#my systems Wilde who's chilling in front with me just did a really slow head turn and comically slowly raised a eyebrow

[rustyelias]

Lydia: “WILDE!!!!! hes such a good boy! What a good Wilde!!”

Alex: “Whos a fluffy npc”

Lydia: “Who did a good job :D”

[goosedawn]

//Oh gods, welp, here I go [cracks knuckles]

//Tiny farmer Techno Au,,,, prepare for some future lore cjkhcxk

Timestamps from: "I Became the Mayor of Skyblock" by Technoblade

--

(5:39) "I decided to call in an old rival..." - Technoblade

Techno continues on with his life for days on, but finally, he somehow finds his way to society again, seeing that the entire town has been taken over by a tyrant of a mayor. The townspeople called for aid, and from the depths of his cold heart, he decided to help (....what do you mean he only did it so people would buy his potatoes-).

For a bit, he did his work by himself, only getting help from some other living scarecrows (listen, I really like the idea of some scarecrows coming alive [cough] PHIL [cough]), TimeDeo and Jyn (...? Is that how you spell their name?). (Dunno what the process for taking over the mayor would be exactly but,,, chchskdlcx,,,)

But you can only do so much work with... living scarecrows. With a bit of reluctance, he calls for help from SquidKid. And then together they defeat Dante :]

(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)

--

(6:31) "Is there any way to do the teleport room without just like.. guessing?" - SquidKid

(6:36) "You are like... little baby, watch this." - Technoblade

-

Being tiny has its perks.

"Wait, what do you mean you can solve this maze in an hour or less?"

Techno turned towards the bigger hybrid, crossing his arms as he nonchalantly stared up at them. SquidKid only gives him a baffled look back, their tentacle-like hair slightly sprung up to further show their confusion.

He knows this only because he's known the man for far longer than they've known him.

He knows more personal information than should be shared, somehow finding the other farmer's parent's numbers along with a few other things. He had jokingly pocketed away the parent's number in the back of his mind, although, he had no real plans of ever using it. Well, maybe he had played with the idea of calling SquidKid's parents to dunk on the fact that a wild borrower had been winning their competition, but he ultimately decided not to for obvious reasons.

He knows the hybrid's schedule like the back of his hand, having to work around it for the better part of an entire year. Using that knowledge, he had sabotaged countless of SquidKid's tools, poking small, unnoticeable holes into their hoses and irrigation systems.

And he knows SquidKid's behavior from how they speak to how they express any sort of emotion. Lies were easily debunked from the small twitch of the corner of their mouth as they suppressed a smile, and anger was easily shown from how their strange hair pieces would spike up.

Yet, he can't help but feel slightly at unease in front of them. He supposes it's only natural, seeing that there's a huge height difference between them. Plus, this was practically the first time they've been closer than two fields of length in between them. Well, disregarding the times he's gone snooping around the bigger farmer's place, but that's neither here nor there.

"Squid, look at me," he raises his hand, gesturing towards himself, "I'm tiny, yes?" the squid hybrid nodded slowly, and he pointed at the stalks of tall fern and crop, "to you, this would basically be a wall you can't get through. For me, though...."

He jumped off his perch, tightly holding his trusty bag and sliding towards the flora before easily disappearing behind the thicket and appearing moments later at eye level, holding the stalk of the crops easily,

"It's easy to go through."

SquidKid makes a quiet 'oh' sound with another nod of their head, looking slightly in awe. The amazed look turns to one of confusion again, though, and he awaited their next question with a raised eyebrow, "but... the maze is big, how are you going to get through it all without tiring?"

Techno grinned, lifting a hand to his mouth and loudly whistling. He doesn't hesitate to slide back to the floor as a blur of white fur bounds towards him.

"Carl!" he exclaims, wrapping his hands around the rabbit's fluffy neck and combing through the fur with his fingers. He backs away to pull out a broken-off piece of a carrot, feeding it to the eager bunny before turning towards the astonished squid hybrid with a grin, "my noble steed," he waves a hand towards the still feeding rabbit.

"You tamed a rabbit," they dumbly point out, having to metaphorically pick up their jaw off of the floor.

"Yup, I did. you can stop gawking now," he huffed, "you're going to catch a bug with your mouth if you keep your mouth wide open."

"...And you named it Carl?"

"What kind of question is that?" he snorts, shaking his head, "yes, I named him Carl, and yes he's going to be the one helping me through the maze. Any other silly questions?"

The man stumbles over their words for a second, and he amusedly watches from below, "I- yeah, yeah, you bozo," they finally settle on saying.

"Alright, cool, I'm going to go find the exit now," he turns away from the hybrid, climbing on the back of the rabbit's back, "see you there."

He doesn't give SquidKid the chance to respond, already setting off through the thicket. And he sure doesn't suppress the grin that crawls up his face as Carl bounds past stalks and stalks of crops.

Having distracted SquidKid enough to get away, the bigger farmer had barely thought to ask how they themselves would traverse the maze.

They must have realized soon enough, though, since not seconds later, he hears a strangled yell of his name along with a loud groan.

--

Pain, it's been too long since I've written something /Lh

--

"(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)"

When the townspeople come to greet the new mayor, they come thinking that it's SquidKid who's done everything since it's always been SquidKid going into town and doing the talking- the scarecrows being unable to do so for obvious reasons, and Techno unable to do so without revealing his entire existence.

So when the sheepish farmer calmly explains that he's just a helper of the mayor, they're... rightfully confused. At first, they want to know the real identity of the mayor, but SquidKid wearily tries explaining that said mayor really doesn't want to be revealed. They only conceded when he shakily points to the unknown farmer's territory, most of them getting the message.

Techno is very thankful that SquidKid doesn't take his title and also doesn't reveal his existence.

-

"It would have been so easy for the squid hybrid to just pluck his tiny form from their back pocket and shove the wrathful spotlight onto him.

He wasn't even able to even escape now as he found himself stuck in the hybrid's pocket. The crowd had come quickly after SquidKid had removed the other mayor for him, and he remembered feeling panicked as he stared at the other hybrid. The next thing he knew, he was shoved into their pocket.

He couldn't get out without tumbling to the ground with a splat, and, even worse, the possibility of one of the townspeople pointing him out with gossip-drinking eyes was incredibly high too.

He shakily gulped, greedily taking the air around him as he tried to stay calm. He never liked being near anyone- not even the scarecrows - so the second-hand contact with his past rival was not the finest experience.

"I- uhm," the squid hybrid stumbled over their words, "t-the mayor really would rather not... have the entire town to greet them.."

The crowd hushedly mumbled to each other, and one straggler called out, "well, tell them to come out anyway!"

By the Blood God, he hated this. He shrunk to the bottom of the pocket. This was one of the worst worries for a borrower; he had already been pushing his limit with the scarecrows and SquidKid, but this was another level for him.

"...Uh, well, in that case," he felt SquidKid shift, and a hand brushed over his pocket. He tenses, waiting for the fingers to tug him out and waiting for SquidKid to finally prove that they're not as kind as they look, for them to finally get some semblance of petty revenge.

"You can find them over there." He pauses, confused to as why there's no hand reaching down for him. The words finally dawn on him, and he's both relieved and perplexed to what SquidKid could have meant by that.

But hatever they've done has made the crowd fall unnaturally silent, and so he's at least a little relieved for that too.

The same voice that was brave enough to speak before pipes up, "you mean the ghost farmer?"

....He didn't know that the townspeople had come up with a name for him, but he's suddenly thankful that he's gained enough popularity that people stop and gawk.

"Y...Yes," SquidKid slowly acknowledges the villager, "they were the one orchestrating all of this. I was just helping with the... talking parts," the hybrid is silent for a moment before they burst into a stammering mess,

"And- uh, I-I should take my leave now, b-because I should really h-head back and ch-check up on them," he feels the bigger farmer start to take a few steps back, supposedly away from the crowd, "I'll answer any questions later!"

He has to push against the fabric to keep himself from bouncing around in the pocket as SquidKid starts running. He faintly hears the townspeople shout for the male, but it's muffled through the fabric.

As it starts to seem as if the squid hybrid would never stop running, they finally start to slow down, their breaths coming out labored and airy.

He doesn't speak up for a moment, letting the other regain themselves first. When they finally seem well enough, he speaks up,

"That's the best you can come up with?"

--

chKFCHKDSJFSDF oh my Primes, this is so LONG,,,, I have no idea how to write SquidKid,,,, plus, I had no idea how to like,,, oOGHgds,f,, pain.

Anyways, hope you had fun reading ALL of this cchjxcvxkdsf,,,

AAUBHJDUHFJHBFNDKUFHN WENDYYY /POS

i dont have anything to add this is just fantastic,,,,, DEO AND JIYN AS SCARECROWS AS WELL,,, FBJHDKUHSJHHDV,,,,,, i love that techno gets to have Carl still 🥺🥺🥺 and him leaving squidkid on the other side of the maze??? FHJBDJNJKBF

ALSO 🥺 squid protecting techno and not telling people abt him,,,,, aaajfhkdojfh good,, i also appreciate that everyone in the village just has to be like. "the ghost farmer is mayor????... well this isnt the weirdest thing thats happened to me"

SQUIDKID RUNNING AWAY,,,, "ill answer any questions later" djhshhjhjhbhbfhdjhbe

*holds this gently* aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i adore

[oceanera12]

Linked Darkness

Four wanted to scream. All four of him.

So. Apparently something called “Dark Link” was behind their meeting or something or other. He was the one infecting monsters. And he looked like a Link. Most everyone didn’t even flinch at this revelation. If anything, most people were angry and threw their nearest weapon at the time in the general direction of the creepy red-eyed guy.

Dark Link just laughed, all evil like and made some comment about how they’d have to do better than that to catch him.

And then he ran off into a cave.

And everyone chased after him, sans Four. He was a little busy trying to keep his four selves from murdering something because for a brief second they had all thought...

Never mind what they had thought. This “Dark Link” gave a bad name for all shadows and by Hylia, they would not let that stand. And so they dashed, a bit late, after the group.

-------------------------------------

Warriors was hitting his sword against a stone wall, when Four finally found the group. Blue had to admire the angry yelling that was also being shouted. Legend and Time were panting from exhaustion from something and it seemed like they had all determined to leave Warriors alone. For now.

Time nodded at Four, “I was about to send someone to look for you.”

“Sorry,” Four shuffled, “Dink caught me off guard.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, “Dink?”

Vio smirked. It had been his idea for the name. It was every bit demeaning as that cursed shade deserved. Red had clapped politely for the name but Blue had expressed how proud he was of Vio for such an idea. Green had to be the “normal” person but he wanted to pat Vio on the back and determined to let Vio be heard by the other Links more often.

“I am not calling him Dark Link. It sounds wrong on so many different levels,” Four replied. “Dink is short, easy to remember, and gives him the right amount of respect. Which is none.”

No one spoke for a moment. Warriors began to laugh, soft and low. His sword stopped hitting the stone and he sank to his knees. Wind took a very hesitant step away from the Captain. “Guys, I think he’s lost it.”

Warriors turned around and rested against the stone wall. His laughter turned into a chuckle and he shook his head. “Four... don’t ever change.”

Vio frowned, puzzled. Green forced a stiff nod. Red bristled with pride at the compliment. Blue just rolled his eyes.

Twilight sat down in front of Warriors, “You okay?”

“Yeah... sorry. Dark is a touchy subject with me.” Warriors shrugged. “He taught me a very valuable lesson.”

Time nodded slowly, “I believe he taught all of us something.”

“I haven’t met him... at least, I don’t think I have.” Wild said.

“Consider yourself lucky, cub,” Twilight sighed loudly.

“We should get moving,” Time finally said. “Dark Link--

“Dink!”

“--is long gone.”

A chilly wind suddenly blew through the cavern, chilling every hero to the bone. “Be careful what you wish for...”

And that was when everything went black.

-----------------------------------------------

“Four!”

“Present,” Four grumbled into the darkness. “I think Dink decided a cave in was the best way to kill us.” At least he hadn’t crushed anyone... or even tried to. Four was worried about that last part.

Wild’s Sheikah slate was currently the only source of light, but he was working on getting some torches out.

“Only two,” Four had told him. “We need the oxygen as much as the light.”

“You been in a cave in before?”

“No, but I read about it.”

Vio was in charge at the moment. They had all determined the cool, calculating, smartie pants was the best bet at the moment.

Fire sparked and suddenly the cavern lit up a few feet. The torch was passed to Time, who held it aloft to get a look at everyone. No one appeared injured and satisfied with the well being of the group, he turned to the far wall. “We need to find a way out.”

“Great...” Legend grumbled.

The second torch flared to life, illuminating the group enough to see Legend’s displeasure. Wild shrugged, giving the second torch to Twilight. He fiddled with his slate for a moment. The eye on the front suddenly illuminated so brightly that Four shut his eyes for a second. “Wild! A little warning next time!”

“Sorry!” Wild turned the light outward. “This was something my Zelda figured out shortly before our journey. She called it a portable light or something.”

And with that, the group set out on their trek. The cave system was relatively safe, compared to other caves the various Links had gone into over the years. A few keese here, one wizzrobe there but nothing out of the ordinary. They were not even enhanced, which was definitely weird. Alarm bells were ringing through Four’s mind and all four of him were on the highest alert. 

They finally found the exit door after two hours of wandering into dead ends. And that was when Legend began to curse. Loudly.

“Language,” Time scolded.

“Don’t!” Legend hissed. “You don’t even know why I'm cursing.”

Siy asked, “Why are you cursing?”

“Because I know where we are. And we are not getting out.”

Dink’s cold laughter echoed through the cavern and everyone drew their swords, standing back to back to each other. “Enjoy your suffering heroes...”

Four bit back a few choice words. “Legend, where are we?”

“An old prison of some ancient tribe of something or other, I don’t remember. But here’s the thing: the tribe were traitors to Hyrule. They got a kick out of taking loyal citizens and soldiers and tossing them into this prison to fight and eventually die. The only way to open the door is to have the blood of a traitor of Hyrule.” Legend cursed again. “I’m many things, but a traitor isn’t one of them.”

Four felt Warriors stiffen to his right and heard Time utter his own curse under his breath.

Wind spoke up, a bit hesitant, “There’s another way out, right?”

Legend shook his head. “I have chased after traitors to this prison. They used it as a hideout. I searched for weeks for another entrance. Nothing I tried did anything. And I tried everything from magic to brute force.”

“But didn’t Dink cave us in?” Wild asked. “That was another exit!”

Legend shook his head. “I don’t think it was a cave in. I think he shut the door. Do you remember a large crash of rocks?”

No one spoke as Dink laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Well, that certainly put a damper on the situation. 

Four looked about the room, glaring into the darkness, “Shut up, Dink, I’m trying to think!” He put his sword away and marched forward.

Dink stopped, probably from the shock of the name. Or maybe he just wanted to watch Four pace back and forth. When nothing happened to kill Four, the rest of the group relaxed (mostly) and began to run through options of how to get out.

Four had a different kind of debate. This one took entirely in his head.

Green was hesitant to start. Vio just sighed. “We have a way out.”

“But do we?” Green argued back. “No one knows about the whole ‘split situation’ and I don’t feel like now is a good time to show that off. And even if we were, you were not an actual traitor, Vio.”

“If I recall, you all called me such,” Vio argued back. “And I did nothing to deny the fact. And I did a few things that would be considered treason to many people.”

“But you were faking it!” Red yelled back. “You were not a traitor.”

“For once, Red, I need you to think I was,” Vio would have glared at his brothers. “It is our only way out of the cave.”

“We can find another way!”

“Blue, you have been awfully quiet. Something on your mind?” Green asked.

There was a pause. Then, “We can’t throw Vio under the horse.”

“... Aw, Blue does care,” Red sighed.

Vio growled back, “Now is not the time to be sentimental. This is our way out.” Vio paused. “It would be best to split. The group will see you as heroes and me as the traitor.”

“We are not just going to let you take the name traitor in this group!” Blue practically shouted.

“WELL ,YOU DON’T HAVE A CHOICE!” Vio roared back. He paused, collecting his thoughts. “It is fine. For once, being a traitor is turning out to be a good thing.”

No one spoke for a moment. Green then hesitantly asked, “Would it work if we did not split?”

“Why would we do it as Four?” Vio huffed. “No need for the group to hate all of us.”

“Would it work?” Green pressed.

Vio sighed, “It most likely would. We are one as Four. All our blood is the same.”

There was silence.

“No.” Vio growled.

“All in favor?” Gree asked. He, Red, and Blue chimed in. “All opposed?”

“I can handle this by myself!” Vio protested.

Red spoke up, soft and slow. “But you don’t have too. We do this together, or not at all.”

“They will see all of you as traitors. They will not see you as a hero.”

“You’re a hero too, Vio. You’re our brother and we stick together. Got it?” Blue demanded.

Vio was quiet for a moment. “It is illogical and sentimental and will be detrimental to the entire group.”

Green sighed, wishing for the ability to hug all three of his brothers. “But it won’t be to you.”

Silence.

“We love you, Vio,” Red said softly. “You did what you thought was best and it hurt you. And you were alone. You are not alone anymore.”

“... I still believe it to be a poor decision. But very well.”

“Alright,” Green sighed. “How are we going to do this?”

--------------------------------------------

Four had been quietly pacing for over an hour. Warriors watched him out of the corner of his eye that entire time.

Most everyone had settled down. Dark Link had left them alone again, thank Hylia. The group had been listing off various actions that they considered “treasonous” or ideas on how to get through the cave. All of them had been shot down, one after another. The familiar feelings of despair had settled over the group.

Four stopped pacing.

Warriors looked over at him. He caught the blacksmith’s eye. For a brief second, he could have sworn it flashed purple, but then it turned back to it’s usual green color. Warriors blinked, but shook the situation aside. “Any ideas, Four? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

He really hoped their smallest warrior would have a better plan then throwing remote bombs at the door.

Four didn’t respond. He tore his eyes away from the group, looking down at his belt. A small dagger was produced and Four marched over to the door.

Time sighed loudly, “Four, we already tried that.”

And they had. Warriors had been ever slightly relieved that his blood hadn’t done anything.

Four ignored the group, making a shallow cut on his hand. The smallest bit of blood oozed out of his hand and Four pressed it against the door.

Nothing happened.

“See?” Time said. “We’ll need-”

The door suddenly flared red. The writing glowed of pure malice and the old magic hummed. The air felt “wrong” and Warriors found himself gripping his sword hilt as the door opened.

No one moved for what felt like a century.

The sun had set at some point while they had been in the prison. Four was illuminated by the night light outside.   His back was turned to the entire group. He was looking down at the blood on his hand, but Warriors was unable to see his face.

Four finally turned around. He appeared very nervous, but he squared his shoulders and stood as tall as he could. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He closed it, paused, then tried again. Nothing. Finally, the words came. They were cold, calculating, and felt hollow. “There was a moment in my adventure where I found it necessary to pledge loyalty to a dark lord, who was trying to overthrow Hyrule. Many people in my life, including my family, branded me a traitor of Hyrule. I turned against him in the end, but I did still do it.” He paused. “There were some... actions I had to take to ensure Vatti believed I was on his side. I do regret that I had to do them but I stand by my decision.”

No one moved.

Four shifted uncomfortably. “Think of it this way: if I hadn’t done it, then we’d all be trapped in here for eternity. So... yeah.” He turned on his heel and marched out of the cave, calling behind him, “You might want to move. I don’t know how long that door will stay open.”

There was another pause and then a mad dash for their supplies and for the door. It shut behind them with a grinding sound, leaving the prison dark and cold.

-----------------------------------------------------

No one had spoken since they left the prison. Camp had been set up in silence, Wild had cooked without his cheerful humming, and no one was looking at Four.

Four tried to ignore it. He knew what he was doing. Vio was yelling at the others for being idiots and not allowing him to take the full force of eight heroes disapproval, but they paid him no mind.

This had been for Vio. Not for them.

It was Wind who broke the silence, with a question “What kind of actions?”

Everyone looked at him, clearly confused. Wind gestured vaguely at Four, “You said you took actions to ensure what’s his name thought you were on your side. What kind of actions?”

Four thought for a moment. “Mostly the passing along of information. Battle formations, dates and times of when and where Vatti’s enemies would be, etc.”

“So...” Warriors said slowly. “You were a spy.”

“Of sorts,” Four shrugged. “I also had to appear to try and kill some of my... comrades. I failed, obviously, but it looked real enough that they believed I actually turned against them.”

Warriors didn’t reply to that.

Time cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. He turned to Four, “It was very brave of you to admit that to us.”

Four shrugged, “I did not see another option out of there. It was the logical decision.” He paused. “I am unsure if Dink knew about my past or if he was just as shocked as all of you. I would like to think the latter.”

“Wait,” Hyrule raised a hand. “Wouldn’t Dink know about it if you know him?”

“Uh...” Four paused again. He was quiet for sometime. “I don’t know him.”

“But you have had some experience with something similar?” Time asked. “You did not like Dark Link. That hatred did not come from nothing.”

“... I told you that there were reasons I had to swear allegiance to Vatti,” Four wrung his hands, avoiding eye contact. “It is... complicated but the short version is there was someone who was like Dink. I called him Shadow because he... well, he came out of my shadow.” Four appeared lost in memory then snapped back. “Shadow was loyal to Vatti, but he would often seek me out to simply... talk. I found myself confiding in him and he in me. Being the hero was very... difficult on my mind. It was good to have a friend. 

“It was Shadow who asked me to join him and Vatti. I refused, at first. But the more time we talked the more... human, Shadow felt. It is hard to explain but I wanted him to be free of Vatti. To have a life of his own. So I told him I would help him.” Four looked into the fire for a moment. “He took my betrayal to Vatti... very hard. But something must have gotten through to him because he shattered the Dark Mirror, which was Vatti’s source of power. It was also... Shadow’s life force.”

Someone gasped softly. Four didn’t look up. “He gave his life for mine. Even after... I hurt him.” He paused, “I killed my own Shadow.”

No one spoke again for some time. The fire sputtered and turned from a roar to a crackle. Wild pulled a log from somewhere and placed it on the fire. The light caught and everyone watched the log slowly wither away.Another log was added some time later.

Warrior let out a heavy sigh, “You’re really something, Four.”

Four titled his head to the side. “I know.”

“That’s not... Four, your shadow turned away from the darkness it came from.” Warriors smiled bitterly. “Mine never spoke and killed many good men. It was born of my own pride and overconfidence. Yours was born...”

“I had to pull the Four sword to rescue Zelda. It was going to release Vatti, but I couldn’t let her die. When I pulled it, Vatti stole my Shadow.”

“Well, no wonder it turned to the light,” Warriors shook his head. “No matter what anyone tells you Four, you’re amazing.”

That was... not what Four had been expecting. “I’m a traitor.”

“Maybe,” Warriors conceded, “But I don’t think any of us ever gave our own darkness a chance to change-- or even had a chance to try. You are a hero in my book. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Four bent his head, hiding the tears pricking his eyes. Vio’s voice was shaky, but it carried. “I... you... what?”

Warriors moved across the clearing and pulled the smallest hero into a hug. “Four... don’t ever change.”

-------------------------------

This got way to long way too quickly but eh. I woke up this morning with this idea and put off homework for almost three hours to write it so now I need to go work on that. Thanks brain. Thanks for nothing.

Warriors was the one who needed convincing. Everyone else can just accept Four’s actions with his explanation. Warriors is the one who needs the explanation and I will die on Warriors and Four being friends. I just love their dynamics with one another.

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 3

Read on AO3. Part 2 here. Part 4 here.

Summary: You always hated tagging along on boys' night.

Words: 3300

Warnings: tw//kassanovella

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: HI LOOK AT ME I GOT THIS OUT IN TIME. I did indeed test positive for COVID so this was wrought through my fatigue--and may be why there is a delay for the next chapter. We'll see!

I hope y'all enjoyed this. I am doing my best to respond to all the feedback, but I'm like... so tired LMFAO. Thank you so much for your support and engagement. It literally means the world to me and is so encouraging.

I love you. ❤️

It didn’t matter how many times you told yourself to calm down. Your pulse bounded like a rabbit, every thump a reminder of your tightening chest. The walls of the Steadfast washed past in black-silver blurs, your mind wild with fear. Hux’s words replayed over and over, a cruel broadcast in your brain. Requests for response from the officers stationed there have gone unanswered. 

Realistically, that could mean anything. Pessimistically, everyone was dead and you were homeless.

The thought of losing your crew weakened your knees. For four months, they’d been your solace and something akin to a family. Not like you’d had other real options on that little butthole of a planet--but you’d gotten lucky. You’d made a home out of Orinda; a home where you’d planned to return. 

Lip pinched in thought, you joined Kylo in a new turbolift, crossing to the corner again as if he were a disease you wanted to avoid. You folded your arms over your chest, stared at your shoes. If you were homeless, it was anyone’s guess as to what you’d do or where you’d go next. It was clear that your supposed… whatever he was didn’t care for your presence. 

Leather gloves scrunched in the silence. The lift arrived, and he stormed off, in expectation that you’d follow. You rolled your eyes, trailing behind him, allowing the need that had burgeoned between your thighs to deflate. 

He’d said he would punish you. But you couldn’t think of a punishment worse than going four more months without his touch. 

Kylo broke through another set of blast doors into the hangar, officers and Stormtroopers alike snapping to attention in his presence. If he noticed or cared, it didn’t show--he pushed through the quiet floor, furious stride carrying him toward one of the ugliest ships you’d ever seen. 

Black durasteel panels formed a long, cylindrical frame, the bow outfitted with a row of rakish teeth and bordered by two guiding flaps. The engines looped like two smooth bricks at the stern of the vessel, the two ends connected by rows of external piping and guarded by a sprinkle of gunning stations. Its blocky build bore a resemblance to a prison transport--if that prison transport was then modified by an eager, unsophisticated halfwit. 

He climbed the descended ramp in thundering strides, and you skulked in his wake, only to be greeted with one of the mercenaries you’d seen earlier. You paused, but Kylo passed the soldier, marching toward the stern and abandoning you in the main corridor. The man--at least, you were fairly certain he was a man--wore a mask embedded with breathing tubes, a huge, heavy club in his hands. The weight of his gaze anchored you to the floor. He said nothing.

“Uhm…” You tried to find an introduction, but none seemed appropriate. Grimacing, you offered him a half-hearted salute. “Sir.”

The man did not respond. Face burning, you scurried into the ship, hot on Kylo’s heels. 

Few lights rimmed the interior of the vessel, your only guide the resonant thump of his boots along the durasteel slats. It was as dim as it was dank--the deeper you delved, the heavier the air. It was sticky with the stench of war, weighed with iron and brimmed with smoke. And underneath that, a scent you’d only describe as one owned by a pack of panting massiffs.

A chill crept over your scalp. This ship was empty of kindness, barren of mercy. You didn’t need the Force to know that nothing good had ever happened within these walls.

Your fear had you scampering to keep pace. Kylo led you through a flickering hall and turned a corner, swiped a switch. A set of blast doors opened to sharp steps, another pair of doors at the top. Those parted as you approached, light spilling from the Steadfast hangar through wide slats of red transparisteel. You’d arrived in the cockpit.

Six chairs lined the wrap-around dashboard. Two as pilot seats, two positioned at gunning and weapons systems, and two plugged toward the back, each in front of a monitoring station. One seemed to handle communications--or lack thereof, the radio receivers and wiring were all almost entirely torn out--and the other dedicated to internal surveillance. At the latter, a matrix of screens with live feed of the interior of the ship.

Even through the shadowed halls, you could distinguish a handful of prison cells. Each of them was torn apart, littered with metal scrap and half-shorn weaponry. The walls themselves were adorned with sloppy graffiti, one of them decorated by a mural of a massive, five-legged lizard beast. A huge red beam was bursting through its neck. Within the tiny walls were separate collections of cultured artifacts. You knew enough about war to know they were trophies.

Every room also possessed a rumpled, dirty bed. A flash of hall light near one cell, illuminating notches in the durasteel where the head of the bedframe met the wall. Like the frame had been slammed against it. Over and over and over.

You swallowed. On one of the feeds, a body slipped through the hall like a living shade. Pausing, you watched until it disappeared from view. The sound of footsteps whispered, then hummed, then roared. You spun, seeking out Kylo, finding him by the co-pilot’s chair, and darted into the pilot’s spot as if this was a totally normal occasion and you weren’t on a weird deathship surrounded by his weird death bodyguards.

Kylo turned to gaze at you, and the blast doors opened, stealing his attention. In the frame stood another would-be man, outfitted with a ribbed-weave robe and carting a huge plasma rifle. Filth smothered him from his boots halfway up his legs, and his head was obscured by a helmet, not unlike the one you’d known Kylo to wear. This one had two blinders on either side, like this man was a predator. 

Like he was a hunter.

Whatever fear you felt for him, he certainly did not feel it for you. He glanced between you and Kylo, trying to ascertain the relationship that resulted in your presence.

“She’s in my seat.” His voice was grainy, like glass on stone, distorted underneath his mask.

You held up your hands in deference. “Hey, sorry. I had no idea this was your seat.” You went to stand, frowning at Kylo, who was studying your every movement. Really had to love how helpful he was being.

“Hurry up,” the man said. 

Nodding, you wriggled around the chair with your hands still raised, as if this would offer any form of protection between you and this fully armed guard. He squared his feet and stalked toward the pilot’s seat. You side-stepped him, but he shoulder-checked you despite it, and you stumbled back, wincing. 

“What the f--”

Kylo Ren’s saber screamed to life, slicing a divide between the hunter and the chair. He stalled, fists balled, neck rolling to stare at Kylo. You gulped, rubbing your arm, your eyes flipping between him and the crackling rod of plasma only a foot away from the man’s waist.

“Sir.”

“Careful,” Kylo said.

He snorted. “Of a Lieutenant--”

“Kuruk.”

Kuruk pivoted to you, and you met his stare somewhere behind the shield of metal. Whoever was underneath the helmet was rending you apart in his mind. 

He shrugged his shoulder and looked back to Kylo.

“Excuse me. Sir.”

The saber disappeared, and Kuruk took his seat at the dashboard. You flushed. At least he’d done that much. You snuck to the back of the cockpit, thinking to sit at the surveillance station, but pausing there too. Every one of these seats could have an owner whose name you didn’t know. Glimpsing Kylo, you threw up your hands in confusion.

Kylo caught this, but did not acknowledge it. “Resistance activity was spotted on the scanners. Get Cardo and Trudgen on the turrets. Ushar gunning.”

“Yes, Master.” 

Your eyes widened. Master? 

Kuruk fussed with the dashboard, relaying the information, and you gazed at Kylo, examining his body in the same routine you’d practiced nightly with your hands between your legs. Fuck, he was big--the thick expanse of chest rose with a slow breath, and you watched it fall, then watched his neck tense as he turned, attuned to your observation. Heat rushed your spine when you linked eyes. His jaw stiffened.

“Get in your seat, Lieutenant.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Is this my seat? I didn’t know.” You sank into it, shooting him a wide, sparkling smile. “Thank you, Master.”

Kylo swallowed.

The blast doors opened again, the soldier you’d seen at the entrance bursting through and tromping to a gunner console--you assumed this was Ushar. He tossed his club to the side, flicking on the controls and calibrating the sights. The ship itself bellowed to life, rising from the floor, and you gripped the seat, unable to force your focus from Kylo--just as he was unable to force his from you. 

The two of you were in competition. That much was clear. 

You just couldn’t figure out what the loser would be impaled with--or if that would make them a winner, instead. 

The Buzzard shot into the stars, coasting in a direct path toward Orinda. You broke the staring contest, glimpsing the little planet through the cockpit, pulse picking up again. Requests for response unanswered. Once you got on the ground, you’d go find your crew and make sure they were safe. That’s all you needed to know. Whether or not Kylo wanted you to come back was irrelevant.

You met his gaze again, his irises hiding a storm. Blood bit your cheeks.

Mostly. 

“Nothing detected on the sensors,” said Ushar. 

Kylo glanced at him then turned toward the transparisteel, searing you with a leer before he sat at the dash. You shivered. Whatever you’d done to make him feel this way, his brief glimmers of favor only made it worse. Maybe you did want to fuck him so you could get a chance to figure it out. Or maybe it was just frustrating to know him in ways no one else had while simultaneously knowing almost nothing at all.

The three men operated in silence as you approached Orinda. From space, it seemed normal. With no starcraft popping up, there was a chance it was a false alarm. That it had been a fly-by. You held your breath when you broke the atmosphere, flames whipping the transparisteel. The Buzzard trembled with gravity, diving toward the ground, greens and browns and blues splitting to trees and fields and sea. 

Then a flash of light, smog blooming to life, tiny fires swallowing your narrowing field of vision. Air froze in your lungs, nails biting the hard back of the seat. 

“Fuck.” You launched from the chair, scrambled toward the dashboard. “No, no no…”

Kylo spun to face you, but you ignored him, shoving between the two pilot seats to crane over the console and peer through the transparisteel. 

He stood, looming over you. “Back to your seat.”

His words swum in the tsunami of your mind. The outpost was smothered with smoke. The closer you drew, the dimmer the horizon, until the Buzzard landed on the border of the eruption, the entire sky encompassed with billowing black fog. Every muscle in your chest felt like wire around your ribs, forcing the breath from your lungs. You shook your head, hands starting to tremble.

They were out there. They could be dead. 

The blast doors opened, and you whirled to leave, but Kylo caught your shoulder and stilled you. 

“What the--”

“Gather the rest,” Kylo said. He was speaking to Ushar. “Spread out and secure the perimeter.”

Ushar nodded, grabbed his club, and disappeared down the steps. Huffing, you wrenched yourself free from Kylo’s grip and stomped toward the exit only to be paralyzed by a very familiar nothing. You growled, unable to even make a fist.

“Dude!”

“You will remain on board the Buzzard until I return.”

The fact you couldn’t turn to look him in the eye made you even angrier. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you said. “That’s my crew. They’re my responsibility.”

“Stand down.”

You snorted. “Hell no.”

Two long, slow steps brought him behind you. His presence consumed you like a black hole, crushing you in darkness. 

His chest met your back. “Every one of your little quips has gone unchallenged.” Another step, and his mouth fell to your ear. “Do not test me here.”

Warmth flooded your thighs. If he didn’t like being challenged in front of his soldiers, he shouldn’t have put you all in the same space. His own fault. 

“I don’t care,” you said. “These are my crew members. You don’t know them. I do. Let me go.”

“No.”

“Why are you even doing this?” you said. “You’re the one who fucking brought me here!”

A pause. Silence settled between you, the only sounds the distant noise of destruction and your anxious, heaving breath. You heard him exhale.

“Kuruk,” he said. “Scout and support.”

Behind you, Kuruk stood, followed by the metal click of him grappling his rifle. You watched, stuck to your spot, as he charged through the cockpit and down the steps. The blast doors to the stairs shut behind him. Then the ones to the cockpit. And you two were alone.

Kylo snarled, snatched your throat--he was a swoop of rage, swiveling and slamming your back to the wall. You seethed, squirming under his grip, unable to hide the smirk curling on your lips as you tried to pry his wrist away. He subsumed you like a star subsumed space, bright hot and pure, and you were a simple nothingness, addicted to his heat.

“You think you have earned my submission,” he muttered. “You have not.”

You wheezed, gazing into his eyes, finding an electric spark of hunger and fury within them. Four months without this had been far, far too long. As long as he was treating you like a stranger, you didn’t want to give in. But that wouldn’t stop you from making this torture for him, too.

“Then what have I earned,” you purred, “Master?”

He sucked in air through his teeth, pinning your body flat--his chest rolled with excitement, his voice raked over lust. “The further you push me, the worse your earnings.”

You bit your lip, bucking your hips against his, feeling a growing bulge between his legs. “You’re ridiculous.” You’d thought he’d wanted you to go to Orinda. Maybe you’d been wrong. “What, is this because I left?”

A huff. “No.”

“Then I don’t get it.” You rolled your pelvis into him again, and he jerked forward, crushing you to the wall. “Why don’t you want me around? What did I do?”

Kylo shifted, panting into your neck, his mouth centimeters from your skin. “Not what you did,” he said, clutching your throat tighter. “What you saw. It will not happen again.”

Some bit of that stung. You saw inside of his mind. “You act like I made you admit it!” It was difficult to speak under the pressure of his palm. “You could’ve just let me go.”

“Hm.” His hand squeezed, and he dragged his hardening bulge along your thigh. “Perhaps I should have.”

So that’s what this was about. Whatever had happened, he’d decided that what he’d shared with you was weakness. And being Supreme Leader meant he couldn’t be weak. Meant he couldn’t have room or time for you. All you were was a living regret. 

Frowning, you glared at him, driving your thumbs into the meat of his wrist and throwing his hand from your neck. 

“Yeah,” you said, shoving him back. “Perhaps you should’ve.” His eye twitched. A screeching blast broke the air, and you tensed. “I’m going to find my crew.”

You stalked out of the cockpit, blast doors parting for you as you hit the stairs and cut through the halls back to exit the Buzzard. It was one thing to abandon you. One thing to make you leave. One thing to act like he’d never held you, kissed you, or whispered your name. 

But it was an entirely other thing to imply he wished it never would’ve happened. The thought pierced your heart, and you steeled your jaw, tried to pull the pain free. You didn’t have time to play Kylo Ren’s newest Game of Repressed Emotion. You had friends to find. 

The ramp to the Buzzard was already down, and you hurried to the ground, smacked with the scent of blazing fuel. Embered ash battered your eyes, and you coughed, covering your face with your arm. Under the wailing wind of heat, you heard Kylo approaching the exit, so you trudged toward the outpost, seeking out any hint of life.

“Tonis!” Your voice was eaten by the flames. “Mirna! Lin!” Narrowing your gaze to protect it, you pushed toward the hangar, knowing that if they were anywhere, they’d be there. 

Sweat crawled down your nape, scattering over your lower back as you drew nearer to the fire. The mercenaries were nowhere to be found, but you supposed that was okay, since they didn’t seem very fond of you regardless. The hangar was beyond the completely engulfed fueling station and therefore impossible to see, but as you curved around the fire, you could discern slivers of it. Edges of the building, and then whole sections.

And your stomach dropped.

Another couple of steps, only to discover the hangar scorched, collapsed in on itself like a shattered greenhouse. You stopped a scream and bolted, careening toward the wreckage to see if you could find anyone or anything among the debris. Thick durasteel girders stuck out of the heap like nails, the ridged ceiling crumpled in pieces and mirroring the fire’s light.

“Tonis!” Your back burned from the heat, but you didn’t care. You tried to find a way in, a way to pull something apart, a way to find someone. “Mirna!” You grabbed a huge wooden beam, hands slipping on the soot, but you fruitlessly tugged anyway. “Lin!”

A ragged shard of wood ripped your palm, and you shrieked, cradling it to your breast in shock. Cursing, you left the mass alone, following the foundation around the corner, hoping against hope they escaped out of the back and were huddled behind the hangar. You approached the corner, calling their names, louder and louder. They weren’t coming to meet you. Again, and louder, and you turned the corner, pleading with the Force that they’d be there.

Of course, they weren’t. 

In front of you was a cluster of discarded starship parts, all outdated or malfunctioned or busted. It was a collection you’d gathered since you’d arrived--arranged and created when more parts were added. Each fragment was unique, and when building it with your crew, it sometimes resembled a sculpture. Under the clouds of smoke, it looked like a pile of junk. 

Growling, you rushed it, kicking the base and sending it all tumbling to the ground. Your furious hands found purchase and hurled whatever they had grabbed to pieces. A scream shook your chest, and you jammed your foot against a solar array panel, cracking it in half. Underneath, you found an old, pretty fuelcell splinter. You grabbed it in your bloody hand and hissed, pulverizing it with your fist. Grunting, you threw the dust into the air, watching as the firewind ate it all.

You heard the rustle of grass behind you. Your shoulders sagged.

“There are no signatures of life remaining at this station.”

Sighing, you turned to Kylo. He was watching you, face blank.

“Yeah.” You wiped your palm on your pant leg, smearing it with blood. “I know.”

His eyes flicked to your hand for the shortest, sharpest moment. Then he met your eyes. “The silencer is still in need of repair.”

You frowned, averting your gaze. “I don’t want your pity.”

“You’d prefer to sleep outside in melted trash.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged a shoulder, crossed your arms. “Dumpster fire and all that.”

Kylo Ren held you in his stare, cape fluttering and hair rumpled in the breeze. Tears stung your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

“Come.” 

He turned the corner. Clearing your throat of sadness, you followed him. You allowed him to guide you through the devastation, past the flames, and up the ramp until you were safe in the Buzzard cockpit. And then he left, likely to gather his men before departure.

And then you were alone.

[saltwatersweetner]

End Me

Eren x Reader

A Prequel of Sorts. Eren never fought for control preferring the security of your hold on him but you could never fully domesticate a wild animal it seemed.

Part 1 Part 3

CW: Manipulation, Toxic Relationship, Attempted Murder, Unhealthy coping mechanisms all in all mildly unsettling themes.

Eren knew how to be good—painfully so. He also knew how to be bad—concerningly so. He was a creature of habit. He did whatever he decided was best for him at the moment and maybe thats what lead you to your current stare down.

“Eren I said move.”

“Fuck what you said.”

Frowning you tried to think what honestly could have brought this mood upon him. It couldn’t have been because you were going out he always understood your random need to socialize. You also can’t remember purposefully setting him off, not in the mood and you weren’t completely cruel to ignore his random—even for him mood change—more in tune to your partners mood swings and emotions than you were to you own.

Carefully reaching out for him you raise an eyebrow when he moves away from your—for now—gentle touch “Are you really upset or just being a brat?”

“Stop talking to me.”

Huffing you choose to ignore his attitude and slip your coat over your shoulders just in time for a knock to be heard from the front door. With Eren on your heels you open the door for your friend.

“Y/N I called but you didn’t answer so I just came up.”

You get a flashback of Eren throwing a tantrum not even 30 minutes ago and launching your device from you 6th floor apartment “Yeah I dropped my phone off the balcony but lets go—Eren be good.”

His glare turns even more deadly when Reiner politely wraps an arm around your shoulders. Closing the door behind you Reiner laughs into the quiet hall “Be good? What is he your dog?”

“Something like that.”

Reiner was a friend an attractive one at that and Eren didn’t like it at all. He hated anyone that was even remotely close to you because you already didn’t like anyone but with Reiner it was different. You let him touch you and hold you.

Eren hated it, he hated it so much—and to make matters worse you didn’t care about his feelings—not one bit.

After a night of bar hopping and watching Bertholdt make a fool of himself in front of Annie, Reiner once again brought you home.

“It was nice seeing you, without your guard dog.” The face he made at the thought of Eren wasn’t a nice one.

“Aw sweetheart don’t be mean.” Reaching up you hold his warm cheek in your slightly chilled hand.

You knew jealousy when you saw it, could detect the slightest change of emotion when it was presented to you. He leans into your hold like a cat seeking out affection—much different than Eren’s wild way of seeking you out.

“Don’t be jealous my dear use your words.”

Reiners face was slowly moving closer to yours and you smirk in amusement. It would seem you had a knack for catching the attention for boys who were looking to be controlled.

“Y/N....”

Your door swings open before Reiner can kiss you and Eren is looking beyond livid. Reiner freezes his fight or flight telling him to run but you keep him steady with your palm.

“Were you waiting for me?”

Eren’s nod is slow and deliberate his eyes still glaring at the nonexistent space between you and the blond.

“Then that ends our time together, goodnight Reiner.” He shivers in what you think is glee from the acknowledgment of the time you spent with him.

“Goodnight.” He doesn’t acknowledge Eren any longer and hurries out to the elevator.

Turning back to the aforementioned boy you make a motion with your wrist “Move.”

When he eventually does get out of your way your hyper aware of the way he sticks to you almost like glue. Throwing your coat over the back of your couch you stretch and lead him to the kitchen.

“You hungry? All I’ve done is drink tonight I could really eat—“

He swings you into the wall by the neck. The alcohol in your system made it incredibly difficult to feel the pain you knew was blossoming up your back so all you could do was stare at the man before you.

You saw the endless sea of madness that unlike you he didn’t bother to cover up. Everyone found the look endearing on him like he never left that childishness behind but you knew the truth.

You could slowly feel yourself starting to suffocate. You didn’t bother panicking because as it had it Eren had all the power right now. If he or you moved the wrong way your neck was as good as snapped.

“Why did you let him touch you?”

Putting a calm hand on his wrist you try and fail to alleviate some of the pressure being forced down on your windpipe “Why. Does. It. Matter.”

Eren was breathing unevenly stuck between fighting his impulses and actually causing some damage “You’re mine you’re—you’re not supposed to—“

“Says. Who?” That makes him let go.

As it would have it you and Eren weren’t dating in any shape or form but he belonged to you. You brought him pleasure that he couldn’t find anywhere else. He was entirely devout to you and you only, all on his own fruition. From the moment he’d accidentally bumped into you and saw through the mask you wore. From the moment he stalked you from the moment he’d shown himself to you begging for salvation.

He wanted to play the game—wanted to be entertained in the morbid way regular people would get sick to their stomachs at—and you let him. You found him amusing enough to keep around but you refused to belong to anyone but yourself.

He was losing the game and fast. As his god you couldn’t be bothered with feeling bad for him.

“Now we can eat or you can sit here and starve whats it gonna be?”

Eren looked terribly unwell like he was about to fold in on himself “u-um eat please.”

You’d never seen him look so unsure before and it made you excited. How would he cry for you next? Would he try to fight more, yell and scream? Or would it be silent and broken?

Flicking your wrist you busy yourself in the kitchen “Good choice, go sit.”

He does as he’s told mumbling words to himself along the way. Was it cruel? Maybe. But you couldn’t be bothered considering how much of a thorn in your side he’d been all day.

You wanted to break him more and till he was nothing but crushed up stars slipping away in the wind. You almost felt bad for how much you were going to ruin him.

But he was your property after all to do with what you wanted. No one could stop you even if they tried. Especially because he let you and thats what made keeping him around so worth it.

You didn’t have the capability of feeling anything close to love no matter how fond of the boy you actually were. So you settled with ownership—they were damn near synonymous anyways.

So you proceeded as normal—well as normal as you are. You order the food you feed him and you move on to wash the dishes. He’d eventually get out of his feelings because he didn’t have the mental capacity to dwell on certain emotions for too long. It was all but routine now.

“Eren bring me whatever dishes you left lying around.”

“...ok.”

Filling the sink with a mixture of water soap and a drop of bleach you wait patiently for the boy to bring what you requested. Turning off the tap You almost get impatient when it seemed like he was taking forever.

“Eren—“ you’re grabbed by the back of the head and shoved face first into the sudsy water.

You try with all your strength to get your head out of the sink but Eren just doesn’t stop. He’d never...hurt you before? Never acted out in this manner it startled you maybe.

And you were slowly but surely drowning.

When he finally does let you up you drop to the floor taking in large gulps of air. Your eyes stung from the mix of bleach and soapy water and you were suddenly freezing.

“Dont,” you look up to eren to see he once again wore that livid expression.

“Dont you ever think about leaving me do you understand?” His breathing was already heavy but now it was slowly turning into hyperventilation. “I’ll kill you I’ll fucking kill you if you ever l-leave me.”

You watched him begin to sob, dropping on his knees he crowded closer to you looking every bit of the victim he made himself.

“Im sorry I’m good I’ll be good I swear!” He tries to touch you but you smack his hands away making him sob harder.

You knew Eren you knew him. His inclination of violence had never been towards you and yet?

“Hit me hit me hit me im sorry please im good I promise.”

Those were the only words that made sense to you in the moment. You were a violent creature by nature one who prioritized your own life before anyone else’s, you’ve never done anything you didnt doubt you’d be able to get out of and yet? Eren had surprised you and not in a good way.

Your eyes come back into focus and you see the pitiful look he wore as if he hadn’t just almost killed you “Hit me please?”

And so you do.

You punch him right in the face with all your strength causing him to fly back against the tiles and you don’t stop there. You let out all the frustration from your near death experience out onto his body completely aware of the blissed out smile he now sported.

Regardless your mind was going 1 million miles per hour as one thing became clear. Eren was slipping out of your control and fast. One day you feared he’d be the one in control and that wasn’t a game you wanted to play.

You’re in control.

You were IN control

You not him.

You.

You freeze. Fist inches from his face.

It was like your body was in forced reboot you couldn’t move your thoughts finally spiraled too far and too fast for you to reach.

You weren’t in control?

Starring at the needy expression on his face you came to the horrific realization that maybe you’d been playing in his hands all this time. He’d been able to get anything he ever wanted out of you—he knew it too.

Did you really—no you couldn’t be right?

“I’m good see?”

Wrong—you were in so fucking deep.

Slowing your breathing you lower your once trembling fist “Get. Out.”

“Huh?”

Climbing off his chest you wipe the remaining water off your face “Get the fuck out I dont wanna see you.”

Eren hadn’t expected this outcome considering how hurt he looked “B-but where am I supposed to go?”

It was a stupid question you both knew he had his own dorm to himself but he’d been so used to sleeping with you every night that he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Rolling your eyes you til your head “I dont care.”

“I cant sleep without you.”

“Cry about it.”

Hauling his shocked form up and out of your home you slam the door shut and immediately turn all three locks ignoring his soft cries from the other side.

Pulling at your wet shirt you could feel the breakdown coming. How did he do it? How’d he make your carefully crafted control snap?

Going into your room you lock that door as well before snatching the throw blanket from the end of your bed and a pillow. Going into your walk-in closet you close the door behind you and navigate in the dark to the farthest corner and sit.

You sit and sit and sit and sit and sit...and then you scream.

You scream until your lungs are raw and your voice is gone and you’re not sure when exactly you started scratching at your face but the stinging thats left behind is brutal.

You needed to think.

You needed a plan.

You needed—fuck you didnt know.

But you did know Eren was about to become a much bigger problem.

[sylverstorms]

Forbidden Fruit

Pairing: Priya x MC (Rose) x Kamilah

Warnings: Heavily! NSFW aka pure sin. Minors, avert your eyes. The rest, prepare to be tainted.

Words: ~1800

A/N: Another request fic, I hope it’s everything you wanted. Enjoy!

Prompt by:

Loud bass. Strobe lights. The comfort of alcohol.

Questionable choices.

Those were the only things Rose was aware of as she raised the forth shot of the night to her lips and downed it in one go. A trail of fire slipped down her throat, its burn more tolerable by the minute. The empty glass was pushed towards the bartender with a vague gesture for a refill. The handsome man regarded her cautiously for a moment, the ‘you sure this is a good idea?’ type of look, before complying.

Of course, Rose was sure.

She was certain going to Priya’s club to drink, dance, let loose and forget how shitty her life had gotten within the last months was most definitely not a good idea. Adrian had warned her to stay away from ‘that place’, Kamilah had pretty much forbid it. Which was exactly what made Rose go, in the end, against all common sense.  

Defiance was as sweet and toxic as the tequila slipping down her system.

Perhaps Kamilah would know –she probably would and Rose was counting on it— the following days and be irritated over it. The secretary dared even hope upset, but that was a long shot for the stone-faced ancient. She was fine with getting even just a mild rise out of her. Anything, other than the cold-shoulder treatment the queen had been giving her, as of late.

‘This won’t work for us. It’s too dangerous. It was a mistake.’ Kamilah had said. Only she’d said it a tad too late, after the human had gone and developed feelings for her she was stupid enough to think were returned.

“Ah. I thought I smelled something delicious.” A familiar voice came from behind, light and throaty.

Rose made to turn around to meet its owner, but a cold, unyielding body blocked her movement. Priya, as always, had zero regard for personal space. Rose hated that she never quite hated it. The designer’s expensive, chocolaty perfume and subtle hair conditioner were impossible to ignore, even over the many scents of the club. Impossible to dislike. The human caught herself breathing in a little deeper.

“And what are you doing here, little bird, so far from the safety of the nest?” Full, dark lips leaned tantalizingly close to her ear.

“Well, it is a club…” Rose gestured, greatly appreciative of the liquid courage in her veins. She couldn’t push Priya off if she tried, so she didn’t even attempt it. Merely turned back to her drink, trying –failing— to ignore the fingers playing with the very tips of her wavy hair. Come on, Rose, you’re drunk enough to focus on the shot…    

“That it is.” Priya slipped from her back to her side, casually leaning against the counter, never too far.

Rose shouldn’t feel the loss of contact so acutely. She willed her eyes to stay glued on her drink, but they didn’t obey, turning of their own volition to the designer, in awe of how good her silver dress looked against her caramel skin. She glowed like an angel. Or, more accurately, like a demon in the guise of one.

Priya raised her long fingers in a deliberately slow motion, knowing, too well, she held every bit of Rose’s attention. She took a sprinkle of salt between them, then turned to lick at her other wrist, never breaking eye-contact with Rose. The secretary had to hold her breath, while an ache settled low in her stomach. She pressed her thighs a little tighter together. Priya dropped the salt onto her wrist and held a lime between her teeth with a sexy little wink.

Her arched eyebrow was a challenge; ‘do you think you can play?’

Rose shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. Indulgence with Priya was fatal, but she made temptation so difficult to resist. The secretary did not shy away from the hunger in her eyes. She leaned in, licking the salt off the designer’s smooth skin, lingering just a tad over non-beating veins. Then she downed her shot… and went for the lime.

Priya smirked as the secretary sucked on it, both loving its sourness and loathing the fact it was between them. The vampire fixed the problem for her, taking the lime off her mouth to replace it with her lips. 

Oh. Rose’s brain halted. 

She didn’t think it was possible for a kiss to feel so slippery and so good, but the way Priya moved, the way her tongue coaxed hers only to leave her wanting more, proved otherwise. Cold hands once again framed her waist, crushing their bodies together, sharp nails digging in.

Rose hissed from the sting, but Priya only chuckled, following her for another prolonged liplock. By the time she pulled back, the secretary could barely stand. She was pretty sure there would be crescent marks on her skin the next morning, but they were not as insistent an ache as the one between her legs.

The vampire seemed to notice, her gaze an abyss as she stared at Rose, ready to devour her. Her fingers closed around her wrist in a vice grip, pulling, too fast, towards the back room.

“Stop right there.” A growl came from behind them, halting their steps.

Rose whipped around to see Kamilah, far more agitated than she’d ever imagined. There were ominous shadows around her eyes, a petrifying coldness to her aura. She was furious, like a wildfire about to burn everything to the ground. Holy…

Priya, however, only laughed. Her chin dropped to Rose’s shoulder, an arm around her waist. “And why would I, stick-in-the-mud? Have you forgotten this is my kingdom?”

“It’s my human you’re laying hands on.” Kamilah took another step forward, a clear warning. Rose gulped. That was terrifying…ly Hot, her horny brain added. “Drop them before you lose them.”

“Yours?” Priya smirked challengingly. “I don’t see your mark on her.” she guided her hair out of the way to make her point. “I don’t smell your scent.” she said it against Rose’s neck, just to anger Kamilah further. “But she’s a big girl. If she doesn’t want to have fun with me, she can walk away before it begins.”

“Come, Rose. Let’s go.” Kamilah said.

But the secretary… wasn’t so sure. “You can’t just toss me and pull me back on a whim.” she stated. “If you’re going to let go, then let go.”

Priya smirked victoriously and began leading her to the next chamber with deceptive gentleness. Backward steps, so she could gloat at Kamilah’s look all the way. 

The vampires feeding on their every desire in the Red Room looked up with hungry eyes when the pair passed them by, but the look their clan leader gave them was an order in itself –‘this one is for me alone’.

The final room was a decadent space filled with dark tiles and black sheets, a wardrobe Rose wasn’t sure she wanted to open out of fear of what it contained and a four-poster, queen-sized bed whose purpose was clear. There were no windows. No means of escape.

“Welcome to my sanctum, doll.” Priya spoke by her ear, from behind. A cold finger traced across her shoulders, to the zipper of her dress. The human shivered. “Now come, let me see you.” The fabric pooled, crimson as blood, at Rose’s feet. The designer’s lips latched onto her neck as though they couldn’t wait to drink from it. “Let me taste you.”

Rose could only moan at the feel.

Half a second later, the room was spinning; she was pushed onto the bed and harshly pinned there. The vampire, out of her own dress and clad only in black, lacy lingerie, pushed up between her legs, biting underneath her jaw with blunt teeth. Rose bit her lip not to cry out, but she was certain she’d already stained through her white underwear and her control over her body’s primal cravings was fading fast.

Priya pulled back to regard her with glowing red eyes. Rose wanted to commit the wild beauty to memory, though wasn’t given time to. The designer moved fast, ducked, pushed twin needles into her skin. 

Rose really did cry out, then.

The sensation was different with every vampire, but no less addictive for both parties involved. Priya hurt, at first. A lot. Enough to drive the human to tears. Then all the cutting chill and pain shifted into boundless pleasure, mind-numbing, toe-curling, deep and so very dark. Rose wanted to push her fangs deeper into her veins, as far in as they would reach. She was already on the edge of her orgasm…

When Priya’s head was extracted from her neck. 

Rose was shocked to see Kamilah there, fangs bared and hissing, followed by the younger vampire’s animalistic growl. And yet, somehow, even the sight of Priya with her fangs stained red and trails of blood down her chin only served to ignite Rose further.

It occurred to her they were one step away from pouncing on each other, so she did the only thing she could.

She pushed herself up and between them.

Priya’s eyes flitted from her body, to her wound, to Kamilah. The elder queen leaned down to lick the blood as though she couldn’t help herself. Rose groaned. Then the designer was pressed to her front once more, tipping her chin up to kiss down her throat, a slender finger hooking into her panties and pulling them to the side.

Rose had no time to wonder what was happening. Everything was touch and slippery chill and heat and she couldn’t tell who was caressing her where. Kamilah’s nails moved up her thighs. Her fangs barely prickled at a lower spot on her neck. Priya was toying with her center, lips and tongue at her breast.

“I –ah!— I can’t—!” she panted –cried?— one hand finding purchase on Kamilah’s hair, the other on Priya’s shoulder. She was burning with the need to crumble into pieces in their arms. To come all over Priya’s fingers while Kamilah was biting her, but she wasn’t even certain if she could take that—  

Both vampires moved, then. Two sets of fangs sank into opposite sides of her jugular and Rose lost her mind, her body, the bed beneath her knees. She screamed against the tidal wave of pleasure, coating and clenching around Priya’s fingers. It was too much, otherworldly, enough to shatter her mind. 

Her orgasm felt never-ending… until the world started to grow dark.

Kamilah was the first to pull away, then pushed at Priya to stop. The designer leaned back with a satisfied hum, licking her full lips. Her sexy smile and red eyes were hypnotizing in the blur settling over Rose’s mind, the exhaustion crawling across her limbs…

Her eyes began to droop. Her body to fall. Kamilah’s hand curled around her head and gently guided her to the plush pillows. Rose fought down the urge to surrender to sleep, yet it was overpowering.

The echo of Priya’s soft, insistent mouth and Kamila’s caring, firm touch followed her to the land of dreams.  

[tuanhood]

alpha

pairing: frat!im jaebeom x reader 

genre: lil bit of everything. lil smut, lil angst, maybe lots of fluff, established relationship

warnings: language, cringey frat stuff, public(??) fingering

word count: 4,200+

summary: your boyfriend’s frat doesn’t allow dating outside of greek life. hence the reason you two have had to sneak around for ten months... and hence the reason you’ve somehow found yourself stuck and hiding in a closet. 

a/n: wow long time no see! sorry for the delay, I’m really busy/stressing about dissertation stuff lately so updates and writings aren’t going to be frequent. but I really wanted to write this for ya’ll real quick to have SOMETHING, but yeah it’s not edited and NOT very good bc of the quickness. But I hope ya’ll will forgive me :) 

lambda | delta | gamma | kappa | theta | sigma

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When you woke up this morning, you really didn’t think you would end up in a closet at the Alpha Sigma Phi house.

The space is cramped, dark and a little smelly. Judging by the odor, you guessed that this was the closet that the boys in the house used to throw garbage in whenever they had to “clean” the house. Maybe this situation would have been a little bit better if you had been pushed into the closet that’s on the second floor – that way there would be less garbage and less boy smell. But who were you kidding? There would be a boy smell regardless.

In theory though you really shouldn’t be stuck in a closet at a frat house thinking about which closet you’d rather be in. What had your life become lately?

“Just a little bit longer, okay?” You heard Jaebeom utter through the door. It instinctively made you roll your eyes. The tone of his voice was so nonchalant, as if you weren’t stuck in a small space. But of course, he was on the other side of the door in fresh air, with as much space to roam around as he pleased – he didn’t understand “just a little bit longer” was triggering.

As much as you lo- liked Jaebeom… you weren’t sure if you would be able to hide in small spaces for the entirety of your relationship.

Babe it’s not for our entire relationship… Just until we graduate.

When he had first said that you didn’t really think about the bigger picture. All you had thought about was how happy he made you and how much you loved being with him. And that was the most important thing to you. But lately the sneaking around and the hiding had been a little too much for you – you weren’t sure if you could keep it up for another year… It had already been 10 months and you were at your wits end. Every time you wanted to sit down to have the conversation with Jaebeom – the one where you tell him it’s either the end of hiding or the end of your relationship – he’d give you those eyes, that smile and it would be completely wiped from your thoughts.

Damn Im Jaebeom. You think you fucking love him.

“Jae…” you grumbled, hitting your head against the door a bit. It had already been what… a half hour?

You heard him shush you and another voice emerged from the other side of the door. “Hey man, any particular reason you’ve been standing here?” Jaebeom’s nervous laughter is a giveaway, you just hope that Yugyeom doesn’t pick up on it. “No reason… just… like the space over here… It’s good party watching space.”

There’s silence and you pressed your ear up to the door further, hoping to hear something. You jumped back when you heard your boyfriend’s panicked voice, “what are you doing?”

Yugyeom snorted, “Dude chill… I’m just getting more cups from the closet.”

“Uh… Let me! I’ll get them!”

“What?”

“Yeah no worries dude, I didn’t really do anything to help prep for the party so I might as well get some fucking cups from the closet,” Jaebeom chuckled, his voice shifting to a more normal tone, “to be honest I didn’t really even know this was happening tonight… otherwise…” He drifted off, mumbling the last part to himself. You know he’s referencing the fact that the two of you thought the house would be empty – many of the guys typically going out to a local bar on Thursdays, but to your surprise as you crossed the main foyer in the house, the front door opened with most of the guys in the frat piling through. That led to your push into the closet.

“Yeah well… Red Room was closed because apparently they have a rat problem. I feel like that’s a bunch of bullshit. I mean we go there every week… we would have noticed if there was a rat problem.”

“Maybe they were just good at hiding it.”

There’s a lull in silence and Yugyeom clicked his tongue, as if he thinking deeply about something, “but I guess you wouldn’t know… You really don’t go out with us on Thursdays anymore…” As much as you liked the guys in Jaebeom’s frat – from stories you’d heard through your boyfriend of course – it seemed like they were often pretty slow when it came to certain things. If Yugyeom was starting to get skeptical and began piecing things together then surely the rest of the guys would too.

“Let me get you guys those cups.”

Taking a small step back, you turn to the shelf on your right, finding the red cups almost immediately through the dimmed closet. As the door cracks open slightly, your boyfriend’s long arm appears in the small space, gesturing around – clearly looking for the cups.

“Dude what are you doing?” Yugyeom asked.

“I know where the cups are so why should I go in all the way and get claustrophobic?” You have to cover your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at Jaebeom’s fake explanation.

Yes, because why would anyone ever want to be stuck inside of a closet? Rolling your eyes – happy he can’t see – you thrust the cups forward into his wandering hand. You swear you hear him grunt at your force.

The cups and his hand disappeared along with the small sliver of light that comes from the door being open. “Well… here you go… the cups you wanted.” There’s another pause and you wished you could see what was going on – to know if Yugyeom was buying how uncharacteristically strange Jaebeom was being or if he was still suspicious.

“You should leave your creepy party watching spot and actually join the fun, ya know? Some of the girls from Theta are going to be by soon and I know Amanda’s been asking a lot about you lately.”

Yugyeom’s mention of another girl makes your skin crawl and you’re almost ready to pounce out of the closet and call it a day, but instead you clenched your fists and waited to hear your boyfriend’s response.

“Nah man… I’m good.”

“Come on… how long has it been since you last had any action? I’m pretty sure Amanda would be down to hook up tonight.” Instinctively you felt your hand go to the doorknob, gripping it tightly.

To your dismay Jaebeom says nothing in response and your mind starts running wild thinking about possible nonverbal responses he could have communicated to Yugyeom – perhaps one of them being “yeah I’ll totally bang Amanda tonight.”

And you know what… maybe he should. Maybe it’d be better for him to be with someone he can actually walk around campus with. To be with someone he could actually introduce to his friends. You weren’t any of those things.

The circumstances of your relationship with Jaebeom had been complicated from the beginning. The two of you had met in a random general ed class you were both forced to take for a stupid credit. Never in your life did you think you were going to meet your next boyfriend in “Comparative Post-Communist Politics.” The two of you had the lowest scores in the class and found yourselves bonding over your almost failing midterm grades, but luckily the two of you had passed the course. Thank god for the grading curve.

It had started just that simply – two people who were “class friends.” Nothing more, nothing less. You’d sit next to each other every lecture and laugh over how dumb you both were, but never made efforts to hang out after class or even study together in preparation for exams. It wasn’t until the final day of class that Jaebeom had asked you to get drinks. His request shocked you as you had figured that just like most “class friends” you two would part ways and never see each other again except for the occasional pass by on campus where each of you would squint and wonder how do I know that person? Were they in that one class I took that one time?

You were perhaps even more shocked when you agreed to go.

From then on, the two of you talked about things besides class and got to know each other on a more personal level. You had already known some very basic things about him – such as his affiliation with the Greek system – but soon enough Jaebeom was pouring his heart out to you, and you to him. Both of you admitted that you had never felt this comfortable with someone before.

It was probably you fifth- or sixth-time getting drinks at a secluded place downtown when Jaebeom revealed to you how much he liked you. You felt your heart leap out of your chest and just as you were about to reveal your own confession, he hit you with a “but…”

“but… I can’t technically date you. My frat’s chapter is really strict about dating outside of Greek life. When I was a pledge, they told me that they’ve kicked guys out for going out with girls who aren’t affiliated.”

In any other situation you would have gotten up and said “no thank you” to whoever the guy was, not wanting to waste your time on anything or anyone who prioritized some stupid brotherhood over their feelings for you. But this was Jaebeom… The Jaebeom that you had grown close to over such a short period of time and had told you how much Alpha Sigma Phi meant to him. He had grown up an only child and spent much of his younger years feeling lonely, which was what made him want to rush the frat. He wanted the close experience and to have strong loyalty and ties with the other members – just like with real brothers.

“We can make it work. I really like you too Jaebeom… I’m willing to try this and figure something out…”

At the time… you weren’t sure what “figure something out” really meant – especially since you weren’t supposed to be seen together by literally anyone. Most people on campus knew someone who knew someone that was in Alpha Sig and if anyone saw the two of you together, you’d risk it getting back to the guys at the house. Which was why for 10 months the two of you had been dating in secret – him coming over to yours almost every night and you sneaking over to the house every Thursday when the guys were usually gone until the early hours.

You felt like you were fighting back tears at the thought of Jaebeom with someone else, but maybe it was what was right. You deserved to not be a secret forever – you were in a closet for godssake – and Jaebeom deserved to be with the perfect sorority girl that he could take wherever he wanted without the risk of getting kicked out of his second home. Tightly shutting your eyes, you attempted to stop yourself from crying, but somehow it makes it worse with the first drop rolling down your cheek slowly.

“Baby? Are you crying?”

It’s then that you realized the door had been cracked open once again, Jaebeom looking behind him before slipping in with you, shutting the door tightly. It occurred to you how pathetic you must look, crying in a dim, cramped closet at a frat house.

Quickly, you tried to wipe the tears of your cheek and hiccupped slightly, “N-no I’m not crying. It’s just my allergies with all the dust in here.”

“You don’t have allergies…” He positioned himself closer to you, bringing his own hand up to your face to rest it on your cheek, feeling the wet trails your tears had left behind, “what’s wrong?” Biting your lip, you don’t say anything in the hopes that he’ll drop the subject. Jaebeom knows you well enough to know when you want to move on and not address a topic, but this time he can’t find it in himself to just let it go.

“Y/N tell me.”

The way his thumb continued to gently caress your cheek back in forth, makes you want to close your eyes and pretend you’re anywhere else besides here in this closet having this conversation. You’d rather be with your boyfriend in a place far away from here where you don’t have to hide and you don’t have to worry about perceptions.

“I was just thinking about what Yugyeom said about the girl from Theta.”

“Baby… I would never go behind your back and do something with her-”

You sighed deeply and felt your stomach drop as you kept wedging your way further and further into the conversation you had once been wanting to have. Not seeing his sparkling eyes and that look in bright light made the words somewhat easier to get out. “I know you would never do that… I just think sometimes maybe it’s best if you had someone you could actually be seen with.”

Jaebeom doesn’t say anything, because it’s at that moment he feels his own stomach churn and feel sick. Making out your saddened face in the dark closet and listening to your words he realizes what he’s done. The way you had said “if you had someone you could actually be seen with” as if there was something wrong with you. As if you were less then. He wanted to kick himself for making you feel like that when it was in fact his fault and his own issues that stopped the two of you from being together publicly. Was brotherhood really so important to him when he was at risk of losing the person he loves?

Loves.

Reality hit him again.

“No,” Jaebeom finally said shaking his head, “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you and I’m sorry for making you feel like this. You’ve been so willing to hide this just because I’m a fucking idiot… because you understand how much this all meant to me.”

“Meant?”

He delicately brings his hands to rest at your waist, leaning close enough forward until you can feel his breath on your face, “I have something in my life that’s more important than getting kicked out of a stupid frat. I-I love you Y/N.”

You don’t answer him for a moment and he feels like he’s going to collapse at first from your lack of response. He wonders if maybe he had read the last 10-months completely wrong or if you had finally had enough with his bullshit and he was just too late. Jaebeom feels all of these worries and doubts fade away when you lean forward to press your lips against his. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his lips and you felt your boyfriend smile, his grip tightening on your waist and bringing you even closer to his body until you’re flush against one another.

You felt one of his hands drift down from your waist to the hem of your skirt, slowly caressing your thigh and slipping itself underneath the material until it’s hitched up above his hand. Removing yourself from his lips, you let out a lustful sigh to let him know how much you want him to do what he’s thinking about doing. As he rests his forehead against yours, he looks down between your two bodies, his hand going to your panties, gently playing with the waistband – snapping it back and forth gently to tease you.

“Do you want me to take back that I love you?” You asked playfully.

Jaebeom laughed, “you wouldn’t dare.”

Just as you’re about to respond with a bratty “try me,” you feel him dip his hand underneath the now damp material. He smiled at your caught off guard reaction. His fingers brushed your core, his index finger moving along your slit as he gathered your juices on his finger before he brought it to his lips and sucked them gently. You watched him in the dim light and felt yourself somehow grow more wet than before. He moved his fingers back down, his thumb pressing up against your clit and you felt yourself suck in a breath at the feeling, before two of his digits pushed into your completely. With the small amount of space, you had, you lifted your hips in an effort to get more of him inside of you and he chuckled at the action.

“We have all night baby girl, don’t worry. I take care of you, always.”

You exhaled at the feeling of his thumb massaging your clit and his fingers began to pump into you at a slow rhythmic pace. He watched you for a moment wondering how he got so lucky before returning his lips back to yours.

A groan arose in your throat and against Jaebeom’s lips as he curled his middle finger into you, hitting that spot that always made you so weak and you feel your thighs begin to twitch as you near your high. Sometimes it amazed you how quick he could make you reach your release, but he already knew everything else about you so well it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he would excel at this as well.

When he picked up the pace of his fingers fucking into you, continuing to hit your g-spot each time, you felt yourself quickly come apart and your walls clench around his fingers tightly. You dropped your head down to his shoulder and felt like there wasn’t any breath left in your body as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, Jaebeom making sure not to overstimulate you and slowing his fingers down. When he finally removes his hand from you, you feel so empty almost like your body just wants to be that close to him all the time – not even in a sexual way.

When you finally feel strong enough, you bring your head off of Jaebeom’s shoulder and wrap your hands around his neck tightly, bringing him in for another kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. I never want to stop saying it and I never want to stop hearing it.”

With arms still around his neck, you gently play with the hair at his nape. You feel happier than you’ve felt in a long time – which was saying something considering how happy your boyfriend had made you the past 10 months.

“Should we get out of this closet?” Jaebeom asked with shut eyes, feeling relaxed every time he’s under your touch.

“Now? You want everyone to see us now?”

He shrugged, “They’re going to find out either way so might as well just do it now. I just hope they give me time to get my stuff before they kick me out.” You feel yourself frown at his candor and the thought of Jaebeom losing the sense of belonging he had gained from being in Alpha Sig, but you remember his previous assurances. You had one another and everything was going to be fine.

Just as you’re about to respond to him, you’re interrupted by a sudden emergence of light into the closet signaling the opening of the door. You and Jaebeom both freeze when you see Yugyeom and some of the other brothers behind him.

“Can you two just come out already?”

It’s almost as though both you and your boyfriend had forgotten all of your words. Instead you stare at one another with wide eyes.

“We’re tired of all this waiting. Just come out and introduce us to your girlfriend already man,” Yugyeom whined.

This was embarrassing. Had they been… listening?

“Listen ‘Gyeom I know you chose today’s date in the pool, but that doesn’t mean you win the bet,” one of the guys from behind him said.

Yugyeom lets out a large groan and turns to the member, “what? Why not? I chose today and he was going to do it today! I swear!”

“Yeah but you ruined it by opening the door! You pretty much made the whole thing void… Haven’t you heard of like… not ruining the controlled variable in the experiment or whatever the fuck?”

“The controlled variable was the door? That doesn’t make sense. You’re as dumb as a bag of bones dude,” Yugyeom snorted, turning back to you and Jaebeom. It’s then that you feel relief as Jaebeom finally cleared his throat to say something to the many pairs of eyes fixated on you both, “can you guys please explain to me what’s going on here?”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes at Jaebeom as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to understand, “we had a bet going for when you would finally tell us about your secret girlfriend… Who to be honest isn’t really a secret. I sit next to Y/N’s friend in Econ… class friends ya know.”

You felt your mouth go dry. If they knew about Jaebeom dating an unaffiliated girl this entire time why did they let it play out for so long? Why didn’t they say something to him and make him break up with you or kick him out of the frat? Were they trying to torture the two of you for the longest amount of time possible?

It’s then when you really take in each member of Alpha Sig’s face and you see no malice or disgust at the fact that you’re not a non-affiliate. They almost seemed… happy.

You felt Jaebeom take his head into yours and he sighs once more before looking back to the guys, “listen… Y/N is my girlfriend and has been for the last 10 months… I’ve put her through so much shit and made her sneak around which she did willingly because of how amazing she is. I’ve never felt so loved and cared for by someone before and I can’t put her through more shit that’s going to make her feel less then she is. I love her and I’m sorry you guys can’t accept that. I can be out of here by tomorrow.”

As Jaebeom goes to move the two of you out of the closet, Yugyeom places his hand up causing you both to stop in your tracks.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Jaebeom looks to you and then back to Yugyeom, “the rule… that we’re not allowed to date anyone who’s not affiliated. When we were pledges they told us they’ve kicked guys out for breaking the rule… remember?”

The boys in front of Jaebeom all look at him blankly until Yugyeom begins to laugh, the rest of the guys following him until you have approximately 6 frat guys laughing in your faces. Looking at your boyfriend his eyebrows are furrowed. You can’t tell if he’s confused at their reaction or annoyed.

It takes a moment for Yugyeom and the boys to finally stop laughing, “Jae… are you joking? Is that why you haven’t introduced her to us? Because of that stupid rule?”

“Yeah…”

Coming closer, Yugyeom placed his hand on Jaebeom’s shoulder, “Dude… that rule is not real. They’ve never kicked anyone out over dating someone who’s unaffiliated. Sure, the upperclassmen then didn’t want us to date someone not in an org, but they would have never made us leave… That kinda goes against the whole brotherhood thing. Besides, now we’re the upperclassmen and we just care that we’re all happy. You included.”

You felt like you could run a marathon at the amount of energy and feelings coursing through your body. You wanted to hug all of the semi-strangers in front of you, but also you wanted to hit Jaebeom for thinking that rule was a real thing when it was in fact… apparently not. In the back of your head, you make a mental note to lecture him on next time it never hurts to ask questions before you get into a secret 10-month relationship that might not need to be a secret.

“Thanks guys,” Jaebeom smiled at his brothers, with his hand still holding onto yours, caressing your smooth skin with his thumb.

“Now let’s continue this party, shall we?” Yugyeom yelled loudly as the rest of the guys cheer back in response, most of them heading back to the main living space until it’s just you, Jaebeom and Yugyeom.

The younger boy shakes his head, “I still can’t believe you were in that closet the entire time… which reminds me. I am never going in there again after the actions that occurred in there,” you felt your face grow hot at his admittance that he had heard or at least knew what had happened in the closest just moments before his grand entrance.

“I still can’t believe you knew the entire time and didn’t say anything!” You whined.

“I was expecting you to jump out as soon as I mentioned Amanda… That’s why I brought it up. Which by the way man,” Yugyeom turned to Jaebeom, “none of the girls at Theta give a shit about you.”

“That’s totally okay. There’s only one girl I want to give a shit about me,” Jaebeom smiled proudly placing his arm around you in front of Yugyeom and everyone else at the party. He relishes in how comfortable it feels to finally be like this with you in front of some of the most important people in his life. Besides you of course.

You hummed in delight and nuzzled your head against his arm, into his shoulder, “She doesn’t just give a shit about you. She kind of loves you too.”

“Just kind of?”

“Nah with her full heart.”

[keepcalm-and-beyou]

Quarantine & Chill

Summary: The craziness of Corona-virus has many people taking precautions and isolating them self's, including You and Colson along with friends. What was suppose to be a Chill night turns into a typical Colson and Pete time. 

“Hey look who’s up from there nap” Pete exclaims as he sees you entering the living room. 

“yes my very short nap due to the fact of you loud asses” you sass back with a playful eye roll. 

“duuude told you to keep it down” Colson jokingly scolds Pete. 

“babe you are no better then he is, you two together is like listening to a bunch of Hyenas” you chuckle.

You notice a few beer cans around the living room, some on the main table in front of the couch some on the end tables be side the couch. “really guys drinking its like 2pm” 

“Y/n time doesn't exist in quarantine” Pete says to and takes a big gulp from his beer after swallowing the liquid gives you a cheesy grin. 

“yeah babe what we suppose to do nap” Colson laughs at his attempt to make fun of you. 

“nah you guys are so right why relax and chill like i thought we were going to, instead ruining your livers is always a better choice” your voice laced with sarcasm. 

“exactly we gotta entertain our self’s” Colson smiles at you. 

You shake your head at the males in the room and leave to find something to make for a late lunch. and wanting the buys to be fed if they are drinking. You settle on making sandwiches guys never complain about a girl making them a sandwich. Carrying the plates with their food on it back to where the boys still sit in the living room but there’s something different now. You place the plates down one each in front of them and eye the Tattoo machinery Colson is setting up. 

“Uh is that suppose to be for more entertainment sense booze is never enough for you wild boys?” you raise an eyebrow at them. Of course you should of expected tattoos being done, the amount of times they have gotten ink on there skin while drinking is almost uncountable.

“You can go first babe!” Colson says smiling big at you. and Pete cheers agreeing with him. 

“ha. you guys crack me up did you forget i’m the sober one here, you really think i’m going to let either one of you cocobananas come near me with that thing” 

“okay Colson uh you hold her still ill uh pour some vodka down throat shell be good to go in uh no time” Pete smirks to his best friend. 

“you touch me you die” you joke pointing a finger at the two. 

as if that was a challenge the two males stood up and started to get closer to you with evil smirks. All you think to do is run as if you think they wont chase you but they do of course they do. after running around the whole house you give up. holding your hands up as a surrender. 

“okay okay i’m way to out of shape for this, ill make my own damn drink” you breath heavy. 

“Its Quarantini Time Ya’ll!” you cheer while walking into the living room holding a martini. it took a couple seconds for the boys to comprehend what you meant maybe it was the booze slowing their brains, once they understood they laughed at your cleverness. 

“i’m going to need to down a few fast to catch up i don’t think i can handle a sober me and a drunk yous”

“chug chug chug!” they both cheer loudly. And you do as told. 

“hmm okay be right back i shall be needing another” you smile and turn to walk back into the kitchen. A few more Quarantinis and you felt the liquor well enough. 

Enough to be smiling, laughing, singing, dancing and enjoying your Quarantine time. Colson has started up the Tattoo gun and has been adding more ink to Pete's body, it may have been the drinks but now you want one too.You watch intently at your boyfriend tattooing Pete anticipation going through your body while waiting for it to be done. 

“awesome dude” Pete compliments the tattoo as its finished. 

“alight babe get your nice ass over here” Colson says with a smile as he is biting on his lower lip and holding the tattoo gun up in his hand. 

“gladly” you smile strutting your nice ass over to him as ordered. 

“wow really” Colson is shocked you agreed. 

“finally Y/n lets you do that” Pete chuckles knowing how every time your boyfriend has wanted to give you a tattoo you were smart enough in your mind to say no and prefer from actual professionals. You take a seat on the couch in front of him and his chair he is sitting on. 

“i have no clue what i want or where” you laugh in your drunken state, the other two drunks in the room laughing also in their own drunken state. 

Colson grabs your right bare foot placing it onto his thigh and starts the tattoo gun up getting ready to tattoo god know whats on your foot. The booze must be working good in your favour as the tattoo wasn't hurting one bit and they say the foot is one of the most painful spots to put one. You paid no attention to the needle stabbing your skin and were drinking your beverage while chatting with Pete mostly and making him get you more drinks sense you could not get up your self to do so. The time has passed and your new tattoo  courtesy of your boyfriend. 

“its sooo CUTE! it reminds me of tangled awe i love Rapunzel” you gush over the tattoo definitely surprised at it thinking it would be horrible yet also not caring thanks to the martinis. 

“dude sick” Pete says checking out the ink. “uh why a sun though?”.

“because my babe is bright like the sun, and brightens my life” Colson responds nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“awwweee don’t make me cry i’m drunk that wont be pretty” you chuckle at your words and give your man a sloppy hug. “i love it just like i love you” you poke his nose and give him a small smile. Colson gives you chaste kiss on the lips. 

“gross” Pete mumbles as a joke. 

“ your gross” you joke

“rude” Pete replies

“your rude” you joke again. 

With a couple more drinks in your system and theirs, you end up dancing around to the music Colson is trying to play on his guitar, Pete dancing his best while sitting on the couch. the occasional lyrics coming from all your mouths to the songs being played. and though you first thought drinking so early was ridiculous you were happy to be happy in this moment with your loving boyfriend and best friend all being safe together from the world for now. 

STAY SAFE EVERYONE! WE WILL FIND THE SUN AGAIN IN THESE DARK DAYS. 

[artificialqueens]

End of the Day (Crystal x Gigi) - Ashley

A/N: The plan was simple. All Crystal had to do was pretend to be her twin for one week: sit silently in seminars, only leave her room for her basic necessities and stick closely to the set of rules she was left with. Only the rule that stated she “mustn’t bother the bitch from downstairs” became a lot harder for Crystal to follow once she had laid eyes on Gigi Goode.

Hope you guys like this!! Think of it as Breakfast at Tiffany’s meets She’s the Man only at a Russell Group where there’s a stereotype around every corner. Sending infinite thank you’s to Meggie for being a fab beta. p.s thanks so much for all the lovely feedback for Everything Has Changed (I could have cried reading some of it)…xoxo Ashley.

“No way.” Crystal dropped the pencil she toyed with, a laugh squeaking out of her throat at her sister’s audacity.

“It’s only a week,” she pleaded over the phone, the voice that had convinced Crystal to do stupid things since they were children making its reappearance.

“You seriously want me to pretend to be you just so you can jet off to Majorca to see that creep?” 

“Yes!” Elle ignored Crystal’s clear disdain. “That is exactly what I want. We used to do it all the time in school.”

“You’re crazy, actually insane.”

Crystal was used to her sister’s wild antics, but this plot may have been a step too far.

“But you love me.”

“I hate you.”

“It’s not like you have any plans.” Elle held no hesitation in poking the bear - the boundaries between the two twins almost non-existent.

“I have Depop orders actually,” Crystal snapped back, a tiny part of resentment that her sister was attending one of the best universities in the country whilst she was sitting at home making jewellery rising inside of her body but not quite breaking the surface.

“£200.”

Crystal stopped in her tracks - now she was listening.

“It won’t work anyway, people will notice!”

“They won’t. I don’t speak to anyone in my college anyway and my course friends won’t say anything, just stay in bed all day once you’ve been to my seminars. I’ll even give you my Disney+ password.”

A hint of worry rose in Crystal’s mind; she wondered how her more outgoing other half had managed to go to university and not make friends in her accommodation. Where Crystal was shy and nervous throughout the entirety of her education, Elle had never been afraid to put herself out there, always surrounded by one group of pretty girls or another. “So what am I supposed to do in these seminars then? It’s not like I have an extensive knowledge of anthropology is it?”

“All you have to do is sign in and sit there pretending to type - they don’t even pick on you I swear. And it’s the last week before we break up so everyone will be really chill.”

“£300,” Crystal responded, the idea of escaping the four walls of her bedroom whilst making three months of her usual income beginning to tempt her, cursing internally at how easily convinced she was.

“I can’t give you £300.” Crystal could hear that her sister was talking through a grin despite not being able to see her face, the grin that meant she’d won.

“Well, you can’t go to Majorca then.”

“Three hundred pounds it is,” Elle agreed. “But you better get me a decent Christmas present.”

“Deal,” Crystal responded, knowing she had already purchased her sister’s gift two months prior. “Now, tell me absolutely everything I need to know about collegiate life.”

“It’s a good job. I knew you’d say yes and already planned this part out.” Elle beamed, proud at her ability to convince her timid younger-by-ten-minutes sister to do almost anything.

***

If secondary school was supposed to be a jungle of cliques, then Elle’s college may as well have been the Amazon rainforest.

Walking through the incredibly hard to find dining hall for breakfast, Crystal could make out almost every university stereotype she could think of, each confined to their own special hold.

From the druggies to the athletes, to the Oxbridge rejects, to the girls who borrowed daddy’s credit card - they were all there and thriving. A small part of Crystal wanted to go and sit with who she decided were the artsy girls despite knowing her sister wouldn’t be caught dead doing so.

Trying not to draw attention to herself, she kept her head down as she made it to the front of the queue, Elle’s clear step-by-step of how she approached meals playing through her head on repeat, the weeks of planning for this moment all coming into play.

Only at that moment, she panicked, the child’s paint by numbers that were her instructions started to turn into a set of IKEA diagrams without captions in her brain. Wishing she’d stuck to eating a pot noodle in her sister’s room, Crystal’s body froze in a state of fear after dolloping a ladle of baked beans onto her toast. A tonne (or maybe ten tonnes) of bricks smacked her right between the eyes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to pull this off. The lack of self-confidence she always battled with ran thick through her veins, her thoughts turning to ways she could go home and return to the comfort of her hometown, willing to sacrifice her sister’s already flagged attendance and the three hundred pounds to be watching Bake Off with her mam in the kitchen.

It almost happened in slow motion, time losing its speed as the boy behind her walked into Crystal’s back, propelling her tray forward onto an unsuspecting blonde. An unsuspecting blonde who seemed the opposite of dumb.

“What the fuck?” She snapped her head around to Crystal, thick brows furrowed and pink lips pursed.

“I’m sorr-” Crystal started, beating herself up internally at how she had managed to do the exact opposite of laying low despite being only one night into her weeklong mission.

“This won’t come out!” The girl started turning her neck frantically to the back of her shirt, the white satin stained bright orange.

Her mouth opening but no words coming out, Crystal didn’t have a chance to apologise again before the girl had a swarm of minions dabbing her back with tissues.

“It’ll be okay, G.” One of them took her hand.  Crystal wanted to burst out in tears like she usually did at the smallest sign of conflict, pinching the skin on the back of her hand and looking at the white ceiling lights to stop herself.

“So long as people look where they’re going.” The girl, G, cast a terrifying yet beautiful scowl in Crystal’s direction before sauntering away.

So much for laying low, she sighed before leaving the queue herself, her body tingling as if she’d hit her funny bone over a dozen times. The girl’s stare still imprinted in the back of her eyes.

Having narrowly avoided a panic attack, Crystal thought hard about her old coping mechanisms and tried her best to remain positive as she did after these situations, sitting down at an empty table and giving herself a pat on the back that she had at least passed as Elle without any doubts, ready to take the rest of her day by storm (also known as sitting in silence and occasionally nodding her head as a bunch of middle ages men discuss human evolution and diversity).

***

Having achieved three B grades by the end of sixth form and the award for ‘most creative’ in their final assembly, Crystal always thought of herself as somewhat intelligent and capable of living in the real world despite her decision not to go to university like her sister.

Yet there she stood, her face in a scowl and her fist in a ball, completely and utterly perplexed by the laundry system.

After sleeping in her sister’s dirty sheets the night before, she had arrived back to the college with hopes of resting her head on a pillow that wasn’t mascara stained and washing her face with a flannel sans toothpaste blobs (which was basic hygiene in Crystal’s opinion, but she hadn’t expected anything more from her twin). Only those dreams were temporarily dashed as she spent an entire thirty minutes pressing buttons and swiping the card Elle had left her manically against an aged machine. 

Thirty-six internet searches and two desperate phone calls to her sister later, Crystal was beaming at the sheets swirling around, not a care in the world at how much of a psychopath she would look to anyone entering the room, the stress she had previously faced in getting the machine to work inducing her to stay and wait for the clothes to wash instead of leaving them like normal practice. 

Elle had seemed happy on the phone, gushing to Crystal about how tanned she’d gotten in such a short space of time and how delicious all the food was - Crystal shutting her down quickly by reminding her that such a tan would only alert their mother to the fact she’d spent a week abroad visiting the sleazy holiday rep she’d fallen in love with that summer rather than in the brown-bricked, straight from a horror movie, sixties’ style complex that Crystal was currently residing in.

Crystal made a mental note to text her mam later and tell her how much she was enjoying her time “visiting her sister” - knowing fine well that talking to her on the phone would probably cause her to crumble and confess their scheme.

She had always been a family orientated person, always choosing a night in the house watching movies over playing out with friends, crying buckets the day her sister moved out and started a new chapter of her life without her. It was clear her mother wanted her to get out into the world, knowing she was capable of more than selling jewellery online, but unlike her sister, Crystal wasn’t quite ready to leave her home yet, needing that extra push to get her feet moving that just hadn’t come her way yet.

She figured that spending a week pretending to be her sister may actually be a good start.

Lost away with her head in the clouds like usual, Crystal was snapped back to surface level as her phone chimed to signal the end of the cycle, only to find herself even more frustrated when she realised that no dryers were free.

Today really hadn’t been her day. 

She personally blamed the lack of lucky necklace around her neck (Elle telling her specifically during their planning stages that she would never wear such a monstrosity and Crystal following suit despite knowing it was only entrenched in their rules because her sister thought it was ugly). Her secret superstitious side kicking in, she thanked herself for bringing some of her jewellery making gadgets with her, figuring she’d have to make her own version of it, for now, it wasn’t as if she had any better way to spend her evening.

Seeing a dryer with two minutes left until it timed out, Crystal figured she’d simply wait until it had been emptied to use it, allowing her brain to return back to Pinterest for a short period of time.

But ten minutes passed and no one came to empty the machine.

She glanced at the other piles of clothes that lay on top of the machines, figuring it was normal to remove other people’s when none were free, the thought of her sheets staying wet and crinkled making her feel uneasy.

Opening the dryer, she was hit immediately by a waft of lavender, reassuring herself that it was okay to move the clothes and feeling almost proud of herself for making a leap the old Crystal would have ran from in fear of awkwardness. 

Being her most careful, she picked the clothes one by one and started to fold them, her brain subconsciously admiring the mystery tartan-wearer’s sense of fashion and wishing she had the confidence to wear some of the outfits. That was when her hands met a satin blouse, a familiar satin blouse with an orange tinge on its white back.

Before she had time to process that the clothes she was moving belonged to the pretty girl from breakfast, Crystal’s train of thought was interrupted by the devil herself.

“Admiring your handiwork?” She strutted over and snatched the shirt back from Crystal’s hands.

Crystal couldn’t quite place her accent but she knew it was Southern. Her overactive imagination hearing the girl whisper dirty thoughts to her in that posh voice without being able to stop herself.

Oh, fuck.

“I’m sorry.” Crystal turned to her, not even attempting to act like anything other than the soft wimp she was inside. “I didn’t mean to.”

Crystal looked into the girl’s eyes, almost seeing her melt a little before her.

She felt the tension between them, dense and heavy in the air.

“It’s fine,” the blonde responded, losing the passive-aggressive tone she’d carried beforehand but still not sounding entirely sincere as she began to throw her clothes into her hamper. 

Crystal couldn’t help but gawk a little as she began to strut away, her body swishing like a model’s as she made her way out of the room, pausing for a second at the door.

“Can you do me a favour, though?” the girl called back to Crystal.

‘I think I’d give both of my kidneys to you’ Crystal thought. Only it instead came out as an awkwardly stuttered, “Erm, sure.”

“Turn your music down, please.” She shot a sarcastic smile in Crystal’s direction. Crystal felt it burrow straight through her chest cavity and into her fast-beating heart. “I know that anthropology may be a bit simpler than most degrees, but some of us really struggle to work when all they can hear is your shit music directly above them.”

Her mouth dropping open to catch flies as the girl left the room for good, a pang of realisation hit Crystal.

Opening her phone and flicking through the dramatic guide to her sister’s university life that was now saved at the top of her notes, she found what she’d been looking for:

“12. DO NOT, under any circumstances, bother the bitch downstairs.”

Too late, Crystal thought to herself, wondering how many more of her sister’s rules she would have broken by the end of the week.

***

Crystal would be lying if she said she hadn’t been watching out for the blonde that week, whose name she had figured out (after an intensive Facebook stalking session) to be Gigi. 

Yes, she was lying low, not leaving Elle’s room other than for seminars and to eat - but that didn’t stop her from taking stolen glances at the girl across the dining hall or walking up that second flight of stairs to the room just a fraction slower than she did the first flight.

Three days at university and she’d somehow turned back into a fourteen-year-old girl fantasising about the most popular girl in the class.

Except this time, the popular girl didn’t even know her real name.

She felt like Tracy from Hairspray - one look and she could hear the wedding bells playing in the back of her head. 

But at the same time, Crystal knew what was at stake - leaving their interactions to intense eye contact and mumbled “excuse mes,” knowing that even speaking to Gigi again could blow her entire cover.

Yet, she somehow managed to do exactly that on Wednesday night. Or, technically, the early hours of Thursday morning.

At first, Crystal tried to ignore the argument below her, drowning out their voices with her headphones (partly because she felt like she was intruding and partly because listening to people screaming at each other, like a lot of things, made her cry). However, as the war below was still awaiting a cease-fire, snippets of conversation slid their way into the room.

“Why do you have to do this on every night out?”

“I just want what’s best for you.”

“You don’t know what’s best for me.”

She could hear the pain in Gigi’s voice heighten right before her door slammed, Crystal wincing in bed at the sound.

Expecting to hear male footsteps stomp away, Crystal was surprised to instead hear lighter ones, making their way up the stairs and past her landing, a muffled sob travelling through her door.

Looking out of the window, she squinted in the dark until she saw the red glow of a cigarette from their fire escape, the hum of an unfamiliar tune making its way through the thin walls.

She knew it was a risk, but it was one that Crystal couldn’t help but take when she thought of the beautiful girl from the laundry room freezing in the cold.

Grabbing her sister’s spare dressing gown, she made her way onto the landing, taking a deep breath before going out onto the fire escape.

Logic and speech pushed to the back part of her mind, Crystal simply made her way over to the other girl and sat down beside her, placing the dressing gown over her slim shoulders.

Even in the dark, she could see how perfect Gigi was.

The mole on the side of her cheek.

The soft pout on her lips.

Despite the mascara smudged down her face and her eyes stinging red, Crystal thought she looked like an angel.

“Hi,” Gigi spoke to her, dropping the cigarette she smoked on the floor and pressing it out with her trainers. 

“Hi,” Crystal spoke back, unsure of what to say to the girl, blood rushing through her at a rate of knots, nervous filling her body and bursting through her head like she was some sort of human kettle.

“I guess you know what I mean about the music now.”

“Yeah.” Crystal nodded in the dark. “It’s noted.”

“I’m sorry about Karl…” Gigi trailed off, taking some time before speaking again. “He just gets like that sometimes when he’s had a drink. I know he doesn’t mean it. I guess you know that.”

Unsure of who Karl was, or why she was supposed to know that, Crystal began to feel like she was drowning. Only instead of jumping on the next lifeboat, she swam down deeper for Gigi.

A part of her was afraid, afraid she’d read the aura surrounding the other girl so wrong, afraid that Karl was her boyfriend.

“Mmhmm,” Crystal responded, maybe a bit more high pitched than she naturally would have.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s my best friend. But sometimes a part of me thinks that he just doesn’t have any idea who I really am if you get me.” 

Crystal couldn’t have understood any better at that moment.

All she wanted to do was tell her. To tell her how hard it was when everyone expected you to be the same as another person. How awful it felt when they never knew the real you, only a shell of the more outgoing sister.

Only she couldn’t, so she did the next best thing and placed her hand on the girl’s forearm, instantly getting a shock at how cold she felt.

“Do you wanna go inside? We can make hot chocolate,” she suggested, noting how Gigi’s body relaxed under her touch.

“He’s still in my room.” Gigi rolled her eyes. “I just can’t deal with him right now, it needs to be left for the morning.”

“You can stay in mine,” Crystal asked, squeezing her grip ever so slightly.

What was she doing?

This wasn’t part of the plan.

And it was certainly breaking some of the rules.

Potentially all of them combined.

This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

But nothing filled her with greater relief then when Gigi finally responded: “If you don’t mind, thank you.”

***

At first, she felt awkward as she let Gigi into the room, especially considering the fact it wasn’t hers. But after two hot chocolates each she had felt the most comfortable and at peace as she had since masquerading as her sister.

She watched as Gigi’s eyes made their way around the room, a kid in a sweetie shop, gawking at the treasures around her.

“What’s that?” she spoke between sips, pointing towards Crystal’s craft box that had been haphazardly set up on her sister’s desk.

“Oh.” Crystal went to pick it up, a flutter of warmth rushing through her at the thought of someone, let alone Gigi, being interested in her jewellery. “Just some bits and bobs I make.”

“These are so cool.” Gigi held a pair of scarlet earrings up and examined them closer, her mouth opening slightly as she focused. “Like the ones you had in the other day.”

Crystal’s face turned a deeper red than the earrings, the thought of Gigi remembering what she wore sending shivers down her spine - her head telling her heart on an auto loop that no matter what she thought about Gigi, all of Gigi’s returned thoughts were instead about Elle.

“Yeah,” she choked out, nipping her skin to bring herself back to reality.

“You should sell these!” Gigi gasped as she rooted through more of Crystal’s collection. “I sell the clothes I make on Depop, we’d make a great team.”

Crystal didn’t get a chance to respond. She was too busy picking the pieces of her exploding heart from the carpet and trying to put it back together again.

“In fact.” Gigi grabbed her phone and began to search.

Crystal decided that her thinking face was even cuter than her regular face.

She was in deep. Too deep.

 “I think I follow an account that does stuff like this, let me think, something to do with crystals…”

Way, way too deep.

“I’m feeling a bit tired.” Crystal blurted awkwardly, getting mad at her mother for never placing her in acting lessons as a child, ready for the inevitable week that she’d have to pretend to be her twin sister or else she’d be kicked out of university and murdered by their family. Seeing the almost defeated look on Gigi’s face, she tried again. “But you can show me in the morning?”

“I’d love that.” Gigi smiled.

Crystal wanted to rewind time just to hear that sentence again. She wouldn’t be too greedy, she’d only listen to it one more time. Two at a push.

Making sure to go into the en suite as Gigi got changed, Crystal returned to find her in bed, already asleep, her hair a sprawl of honey against the pink pillows.

She waited a second before turning off the light and getting into bed beside her, something about lying next Gigi sending Crystal into a sleepy haze despite the way her heart had been beating so fast just moments before.

She could hear Gigi breathing, snoring just a little, finding her own breathing starting to sync along.

Sleep was only minutes away from taking over her body when she heard it, the muffled cry coming from the other side of the bed.

“No.” She heard Gigi mumble as she tossed from one side to the other. “Don’t go.”

Crystal placed a reassuring hand on her arm without thought. “Are you alright?”

Gigi woke startled, her eyes beaming at Crystal like a young deer caught in the middle of the road.

“I’m fine.” She realised her surroundings and threw the quilt to one side, moving her body down to the bottom end of the bed. “I best be off.”

“Hey.” Crystal sat up, flicking the lamp on by her bedside. “It’s alright, we can-”

But before she could finish, Gigi was gone. Nothing more than the faint smell of lavender on the pillows and the dark ring of hot chocolate in the bottom of her sister’s mug.

***

Making her way back into the college that evening, Crystal waited by the entrance for a few moments, wondering if she could manage to get to Elle’s room without passing the drinks and shenanigans that were currently taking place in front of her, wondering if she could manage to make it without passing Gigi, more precisely.

Tesco carrier bags full to the brim of every comfort food she could gorge on (salami, cheese, salt and vinegar crisps and three different bars of dairy milk to be precise) as she watched her sister’s Disney+ alone, Crystal concluded that the coast was clear and made her way to the bottom of her stairs without passing Gigi.

The words of the note she had posted under Elle’s door the day beforehand were still dancing around Crystal’s mind like a puzzle that even Professor Layton couldn’t solve:

“Elle, please forgive me for this morning. I don’t know what happens when I get like that..we’re all having drinks at around 8 tomorrow if you wanna join? - Gigi.”

As much as she longed to join Gigi for a drink, Crystal knew that she couldn’t. She’d already put too much on the line, allowed herself to get too close, too emotionally invested. A short text from Elle asking if everything was okay scared her straight, there was too much at stake. Yes, she wanted more than anything to be the one who comforted Gigi the next time she had a nightmare, to make jewellery for her and kiss her forehead whenever she looked stressed. But family meant everything to her, and she knew if anyone were to find out what they’d done, the consequences wouldn’t be worth it. 

About to make her way up the stairs, Crystal felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Let me help with those,” the boy motioned to her bags, his voice familiar.

With dark hair slicked back, and skin the colour of caramel, it took Crystal a second to realise where she knew the boy from, remembering his face next to Gigi’s in their corner of the dining hall.

“I’m fine, they’re not heavy.” Crystal tried to walk away but was stopped by his voice, yet again.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come help? It’s been a little while, Elle.” He grinned, a smirk in his eyes that Crystal couldn’t quite trace.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to catch up with you later,” Crystal responded, trying to remain calm on the outside as her insides reached peak panic mode, her brain mentally scanning her notes for anything mentioning this boy. Her search found no results.

“Oh I get it,” he laughed. “It’s one of your games.  Sure, you wanna catch up later.”

That’s when the realisation hit Crystal. Her sister was having sex with this boy. And she completely failed to mention it.

Trying to think of something to say, a heavy silence lingered between them. Broken by a familiar tone that managed to scare her half to death and turn her on at the same time.

“Karl.” Gigi shook her head as she made her way down the staircase, carrying what looked like a sippy cup of vodka red bull in her hands. “Do you mind not trying to shag every girl in college for five seconds?”

“I’ll see you later, Elle.” He muttered before strutting away with Gigi, Crystal making out the word ‘cockblock’ in their hushed conversation as they left.

She knew that Elle didn’t tell her everything.

Just because they were twins they didn’t have to know every detail of each other’s lives, even though they spoke every day. Crystal always knew that. But a part of her heart stung at the thought of her sister not even telling her about a boy she was sleeping with. Is that how far apart they’d grown since Elle came to uni? 

Fighting back tears, she made her way up the stairs and tried to call her sister. She knew she was being silly; a part of her had just thought she’d know when her sister was sleeping with someone. So many questions ran through her mind. Was Elle safe? Did she love him? Why didn’t anyone know? 

She tried to call again, no answer.

Gigi must have known, Crystal figured - slotting together their interaction the night before with the one they’d just had. Is that why Elle didn’t like her? Why they weren’t friends? Why she’d told Crystal to avoid her?

She answered on the fifth call.

“Hey, babe, I really can’t talk right now.” 

Crystal ignored her sister’s words, dropping her shopping outside the door and moving out onto the fire escape, the cold breeze hitting her face harshly.

“Who’s Karl?” 

“Oh.” She heard her other half’s surprise, she could see the look on her face, high definition in Crystal’s mind. “I told you not to speak to people, for fuck sake, Crystal.”

“Who’s Karl?”

“I can’t speak about this now.” Her tone lowered, clearly someone else was in her company.

“Who’s Karl?” Crystal asked again, not even stopping to think about how dramatic she was being.

Only her sister had hung up before she could get an answer.

Crystal didn’t know how long she’d been out there when she heard the door open, she didn’t even know if she was still crying or not.

“Hi,” Gigi spoke, almost a whisper, as she approached her. “We gotta stop meeting like this, hey?”

Crystal watched Gigi’s face drop a little at the sight of her, looking hurt the second she got close enough to see her tears.

“Yeah, I-” Crystal started but was swiftly interrupted.

Normally in films, it happened after a moment. 

The pair would talk, get deep about their issues, reach a comforting solution then sit for a moment in an all-knowing silence.

Then they’d look into each other’s eyes, letting them flicker down once or twice before meeting again, that lock not leaving until they were shut.

Next came the strand of hair, pushed away and tucked neatly behind the ear.

Finally, the kiss, slow at first then growing in passion.

Only Gigi had no patience.

It took Crystal a second to react, to realise what was happening, to press her lips back against Gigi’s, to race her hand through the other girl’s hair.

It was unexpected.

Yet it felt nothing but natural.

And right.

“I’m sorry.” Gigi pulled away, pausing to bite her tongue between her teeth, a nervous side of her appearing that Crystal had not yet seen. “I know that’s like the last thing you’re meant to do when someone’s upset but, I don’t know, you just looked so sad and-”

This time Crystal wasn’t going to let her finish.

She felt Gigi’s hands wipe the stray tears from her face before moving right down her body to her waist. Moving her body closer so she was almost straddling the other girl, Gigi pulled away for just a second to let out a breath. 

Crystal moved her hands round to Gigi’s back, further and further down until she was granted a nod of permission, letting them slide over the silky fabric of her skirt.

Before Crystal knew it she was being pushed back to the ground, Gigi’s long and beautiful body towering over her, as she got to her knees and began to kiss Crystal all over.

Gently, methodically, slowly. 

Crystal’s mind was carried away, far from reality and refusing to take away from the moment in front of her.

“I knew you wanted me.” She felt Gigi’s breath tickle her ear, sending hot flushes down her entire body, reaching her hands out to touch the other girl’s breasts.

“Fuck, Elle.” Gigi grinned, flicking a switch in Crystal’s body as she pushed herself backwards away from her touch.

She’d almost forgotten that part.

Looking at the other girl’s confused face, she was lost for words, pulling the strap of her vest top back in its place. She knew she couldn’t do it anymore, she couldn’t keep lying. She would have let Gigi sleep with her thinking that she was someone else. She’d become a monster. She had to tell the truth.

“What the fuck?” A voice came from the door behind them, Karl’s confused face flicking between the pair of them. “Is this a joke?”

“Shit,” Gigi muttered and stood up, but Crystal was frozen in place, her hands and feet turning numb with anxiety, the sky around them warping in time. “I can explain.”

Crystal watched as Gigi chased her friend back into the building, listening to her tell him she was sorry and she just got carried away. Listening to Karl ask if that was why she’d told him to stop sleeping with her. Listening to Gigi explain that it wasn’t it, that something had just changed recently. Listening to her life crumble around her.

And then she heard nothing at all.

Even when she knocked on Gigi’s door later that night, ready to give her the explanation she needed, Crystal heard nothing at all - eventually giving in and retreating to the cave of Elle’s room, with no plans to leave it until their train pulled in at the station. 

***

Looking up at the hideous brown bricks in front of her, Elle Barge never thought she’d be so relieved to see the college in her life.

One day earlier than she was supposed to return, she hoped that Crystal would forgive her for withholding some of the stuff she’d been doing at university, thinking that they could have one fun night together before getting the train home the next day, giving at least a hint of truth to their family when they arrived back.

Besides, her holiday romance meet-up hadn’t exactly gone the way she had planned when she accidentally met up with his wife. Hence her early departure.

She figured she’d just have to chalk this one up to being a good story to tell, throwing away her sadness at the thought of having a best-selling novel about her awful love life someday. 

Heck, she’d probably already have half of it written with just stories about Karl.

Walking up the stairs to her room, she rolled her eyes at the sight in front of her.

One thing she certainly had not missed was Gigi Goode braying on her door to tell her to turn her music down.

Surely, Crystal wasn’t irritating her, Elle thought to herself. The only music Crystal ever played was One Direction and she hardly blasted it.

“Ahem.” Elle coughed loudly enough for Crystal to hear from inside the room, praying she’d understand with her magic twin sense not to come out (also quickly texting her not to incase the magic twin sense failed them. Elle did not want a repeat of that time in year nine when Jackie Cox asked if they could read each other’s minds).

“Hey.” Gigi turned to face her, a strange look on her face that Elle couldn’t quite decode. Tension started to seep through the stained carpet and up the walls like lava.

“Hi?” Elle raised an eyebrow to her, more of a question than a greeting. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you before,” Gigi started, nodding her head as she got into the rhythm of her speech. “I was just scared and I didn’t know how to say it but I can now. Please just listen and wait ‘til I’m done, I have to explain.”

Minefields began exploding inside Elle’s brain.

She simply nodded.

“I’ve been fucked over in the past. And it still scares me today. You know the other night? That was it, I haven’t felt myself get close to anyone in a while. And I know it’s bad because of Karl and I’m a shitty friend to him but honestly, I think that this is something bigger than that, cause I’ve not felt it for a while. And I think you feel it too. Look, I’m really shit at this but something changed this week, I saw you in this light I’d never caught you in. I might sound mad but I think that I need you.”

Looking back at the girl in front of her with dismay, Elle spoke back the only three words that rang through her brain at that moment.

“What the fuck.”

And then her door opened, her sister’s face peeking out around the corner, clad in the same expression she used to have whenever she’d spilt juice on the carpet or smashed plate. Her hair matted and eyes puffy, Elle immediately moved to her side.

And then Gigi uttered the three words as well - only adding a “fucking” in there too for good measure.

Killing the silence that lingered for some time, Crystal spoke the fastest sentence Elle had ever heard all in one breath: “I’ve been pretending to be my sister so she could go get fucked by a Spanish guy.”

“Wow.” Elle looked back and forth between the pair, recognising a glint in her sister’s eyes that was certainly not there before.

Crystal prepared herself and walked up to Gigi, placing her hand on her arm. “I wanted to tell you so bad. I was going to but then Karl came and everything got messy. I know you probably can’t forgive me, but I saw that bigger thing too and I let myself get carried away in it.”

Gigi looked between the pair and raised a hand to her mouth, letting out a hearty laugh. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Elle pleaded, fear rising inside her.

Silence filled the landing again, the twins standing sheepishly as they gave time for Gigi to process.

“If I’m honest I think I’m less confused now.” Gigi turned to face Crystal and grinned, showing an emotion Elle didn’t think the Barbie doll was even capable of showing. “This makes a lot more sense.”

Elle watched as her sister grinned back, seeing the genuine happiness on her face and throwing away all thoughts about whether or not she’d get in trouble.

“I think I might just be able to forgive you.” Gigi looked her up and down, pouting her lips in a joking manner. “If you let me take you out so we can talk this through over dinner?”

“Yes,” Crystal responded without hesitation.

“But first, could you tell me your name?”

“Crystal.” Elle watched as her sister reached out and shook the other girl’s hand, proud of the growth in confidence she could see - happy to see the return of the happy-go-lucky Crystal who wasn’t too scared to try anything new that she knew as a child.

“Crystal,” Gigi repeated, smiling to herself. “So Crystal, do you go to uni or just hang around at other people’s?”

“Maybe next year.” Crystal smiled back a sense of optimism in her voice. “Are we going for this dinner or what?”

Although it took her a minute to take in what she’d seen, a strange feeling inside of her as she waved her sister goodbye for a date with her bitchy downstairs neighbour, Elle couldn’t help but think that her disaster vacation had all happened for a good reason. In fact, she found herself almost shedding a tear as she heard her sister laughing at something Gigi said on their way downstairs, figuring that she might just see more of her sister than usual next term (and being nothing but happy about it).

[captainxsassafras]

Angel Voice

Ok, so this is really the first piece of writing I've actually finished since I graduated from college. Haha, yeah. I've been a bit of an unproductive writer the past lil bit, BUT I'm here today and I finished this. Not gonna lie, I am hella nervous for this. It's nothing emotionally involved or really intense (ok, there’s not angst, but I get real emotionally involved in fluff, so maybe I’m a liar), but I read the idea of Shinsou doing ASMR from secondhand-trash and the anon over there and, ya know, magic happened! Haha, I kid. Just cuteness, a few saucy phrases here and there! Please be kind to me!

(Also, I’m so sorry. I will figure out how to put stuff under the cut. Please be patient with my tech illiterate ass!)

@queensynderella

@secondhand-trash

Angel Voice

Shinsou x Reader

Warning: lots of fluff?, attempted assault (not Shinsou!), suggestive comments, a hot mess of a reader!

Word Count: Just over 5000... I think.

~~~*~~~

Fucking fuckity fuck fuck. You had not slept at all. Not a single wink.

Sorry, kind sir. I have no spare winks to give. No winks here.

This had been going on for months. Months!

It was starting to affect you.

Hahahah… That was a lie. It had been affecting you. You were just adaptable and great at lying so nothing was really wrong! 

…Ok, that was a lie too. Your sleep schedule was shot. Your brain was shot. Your work was… by some miracle still ok, but you weren’t about to keep betting on that.

So, here you were. Finally off work and almost falling asleep waiting for the train in the humid, afternoon heat. 

This is probably what Hell feels like. Sleep-deprived, foggy, humid, and full of sweaty humans.

You jolted fully awake from a doze as the train arrived and people began crowding against you.

Yippee. A crowded train with strangers pressing in close on absolutely zero sleep.

Nevermind. This was Hell. Waiting for the train was just the appetizer.

Your phone buzzed.

It was your best friend. She knew that you'd been having trouble sleeping and had been your solid rock. She'd been your support when it started and had helped you brainstorm remedies when it had continued. So it wasn't really a surprise when she sent you a link to an asmr video with the message, 'he has the voice of an angel! 😇 if this doesn't help you sleep, nothing will! luv ya boo! good luck!!! ❤❤❤❤❤' 

She was right. 

His voice was deep, but soothing. He spoke in a soft, calm cadence that immediately put you at ease.

The video in question was a request from a viewer. It was a description of a calm hike through the woods on a nice day. 

It was heaven.

You had your first night of decent sleep in months.

(And if you were being totally honest, you did actually cry a bit when you woke up feeling more rested and clear-headed than you could remember.)

From that point on, you fell asleep listening to 'Angel Voice' every night. 

And quickly discovered that you couldn't listen to the more...exciting rp videos before bed! They sent your poor, stupid heart wild and kept you wide awake plus some tasty adrenaline! Definitely not the desired effect! Not unpleasant. Just kinda detrimental to the whole helping-you-sleep thing.

But his calm, descriptive videos and dulcet voice sent you straight to dreamland. 

For a month straight you fell asleep to his tones and barely bothered to look at the voice artist's name.

Angel voice worked!

***

Ok, now you were tired. 

A frantic call to work this afternoon had you covering your sick coworker’s shift. This meant you were both awake way later than you had recently been staying up and you were working with a double shift's worth of leftover energy.

Ok, you were dead. Running on empty. There was no leftover energy.

You dumb, tired feet trudged along the stupid, dark street and your dumb, heavy purse cut into your stupid, aching shoulder.

But despite your exhaustion, you still held a canister of pepper spray--safety off, thank you--clutched tightly in your hand. 

The hackles on the back of your neck rose. The hair on your arms stood on end. Chills ran down your spine.  

You could feel eyes on your back.

Someone was watching you.  

It was a very unpleasant feeling this late at night all alone on a half lit street.  

Ugh, this street was so different after dark! 

You normally made your way home during rush hour when the street was busy with foot and vehicle traffic, well-lit by the sun, and full of chatter and life.

It was almost lifeless and eerily quiet now. 

Creepy. 

It needed more streetlamps. 

Humming very quietly to yourself, you tried to keep your mind off of the intense foreboding grabbing at your chest.

That same shivering chill ran through your body right before a harsh hand clawed at your arm, jerking you back. You cried out as your sore shoulder twisted and adrenaline-fueled panic surged through your entire nervous system.   

You whipped around, pepper spray at the ready and a fierce scowl on your face, to empty the canister straight into the guy's eyes.

You wrenched your aching shoulder out of his hand. Without conscious thought, your foot rose and met his groin in a beautifully placed front kick. 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

We have a winner!

He fell.

A convenience store! There was a convenience store nearby! 

Heart pounding, you fled to the little 24 hour convenience store across the street and, from the safety of the front counter, called the police.

Your frantic eyes scoured the area near the man, waiting to see if he would rise and run. 

Although, you did get him pretty good. You hoped he wouldn't run away. That'd be a) frustrating because you didn't really have a way to identify him so he'd probably get away and b) scary because you kicked him in the nuts! Guys held grudges for things like that! 

Was that movement?

It… didn't seem like the attacker was moving… 

Oh! It was another guy and it looked like he was wearing a costume!

A hero?

Looked like it! He was tying the felled grabber up with… not sure, but it was incapacitating the guy who grabbed you, so yay!

You left the store and slowly approached the man. 

"Um, hi," you said with a hesitant wave. "This was me." You bashfully gestured to the man still lying (now tied up) on the ground.

"Hey, there. Thanks for doing my job for me," he replied with a bit of a smirk. He had a deep, slightly rough voice and up close you could see dark, wildy messy hair.

Uh-oh. You needed to explain. This was absolutely self defense!

"He, uh, grabbed me from behind and I kind of panicked and, well…"

"Don't worry. I saw what happened. He started following you a few blocks back, but I couldn't do anything because he hadn't done anything yet."

Oh.

Oh, damn.

You felt sick. He had… he had been following you?

Your knees trembled.

The hero noticed and stepped forward to you.

"Hey, hey. Come here." 

He led you to the curb and sat you down, a hand rubbing comforting circles on your upper back. "It's gonna be ok. You clearly know how to defend yourself, so I wouldn't worry about.."

His soothing voice soon began to pull you out of your fear and calm your racing brain. His hand continued rubbing your back in rhythmic motions and soon your shaking began to slow and finally stop. Your thoughts came back to the moment and you noticed something. Something very familiar...

"Holy shit. Angel voice!"

The hero stopped his rambling speech, one eyebrow raising in an amused arch. He didn't say anything else, just waited for you.

"Do you do asmr?"

"Uh… yeah?"

Boy, you wish you could've captured his face.

Befuddled?

Was that the right word?

Yeah. Pure befuddlement.

Then blushing. 

Holy hell! He was blushing! It was really hard to see, but the slightest bit of red colored his cheeks in the dim light.

"Thank you so much!" you cried, maybe a bit loudly. He flinched just a little, looking surprised. "Ah, sorry. But seriously! You're the reason I've been able to sleep for the past month! I've been having sleep issues for almost a year and a friend sent me one of your videos and, well, tada. Sleep happened!" It was your turn to blush. 

The look he was sending your way now was… hella cute. He looked delighted. Elated. Even in the dark, his eyes were shining and he had a goofy little half smile that lit his whole face with happiness. 

The smile highlighted the bags under his eyes and you briefly wondered if that had something to do with his decision to make asmr videos. The thought fled when he raised a self-conscious hand to rub the back of his neck and started speaking.

"I'm glad they've been helping you!" The very corners of his eyes crinkled just a bit. "It makes my night to hear that!" 

His deep voice wasn't loud or overtly excited, but it was warm and full of sincerity. 

Your stomach did a stupid flip.

Nope. Not happening. You refused to be a hero groupie. Too much drama. Too many fans picking each other apart. Too much shade. You needed sunshine and most groupies you knew threw shade like confetti.

Also, he was a professional at work. This was his job. You needed to respect that.

A deep internal breath had you back where you should be. Thanking a professional hero for helping apprehend a man who had attacked you and thanking him for his generous work that helped you sleep well. 

The two of you talked quietly for a few bit waiting for the police to arrive. It was nice. You asked about hero work. He asked about your job. You two chatted about a couple of random things and by the time the police arrived your chatter was comfortable and easy. 

Everything after was a whirl. You had to give a statement. They needed to take you to a hospital just in case. The hero gave his witness statement and then had to leave to help out with a robbery in a different neighborhood. 

You left for the hospital looking back and feeling little starbursts of melancholy disappointment needling your chest. 

You'd probably never see him again.

Ah, well. Guess he'd stay Angel Voice. 

***

Shit.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. 

This was stupid. 

You had barely talked to him for a half hour. And, yeah, he was sweet. Ok, he'd been crazy nice. And so fucking attractive. He'd been easy to talk to and the conversation between you two had been entertaining and full of wit. 

But you had no way of directly contacting him. You'd looked him up, but hadn't gotten much info on him. It looked like he was an underground hero, so that made a lot of sense. It, however, did not make it any less frustrating.

You didn't know what you'd do if you managed to get ahold of him anyway!

"Hi! You sorta bagged a guy who tried to assault me (but I took down first) a few weeks ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since then even though we had like a half hour conversation, half of which was you coaxing me out of a panic attack. Want to go on a date?"

Of course, you could always comment on one of Utube videos, but that had about a 1 in 1,000,000,000 chance of working and felt a little too…. Stalker-fan.

There was also the raging guilt and embarrassment you felt over crushing on a hero who had just been helping you as part of his professional work. He had been at work! It was part of his job to comfort you! He was literally in the business of saving people and making sure they were ok. And that was exactly he had done. He didn't need to be harrassed because your dumb brain said, 'Oo, shiny!' when he smiled. He had been at work. You shouldn't read anything into his behavior, because there really wasn't anything other than a pro hero doing his duty.

Nope! You needed to get over this.

A notification buzzed and you checked your phone.

Mind_kitty has posted a new video! Watch now!

With a defeated sigh, you deferred the notification for later. You could listen and relax on your way home from work.

A movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and you snapped your head up as a coworker hustled over with a look of panic on their face. 

Uh-oh.

***

And now, here you were, sitting wearily on the train and hurtling towards home.

Ugh, what a day.

After everything that could go wrong had miraculously (horrifically? Fiendishly? Miraculously seemed too positive…) gone up in flames at the same time, you had spent the rest of your work day running around like crazy putting out all the fires (only one of which was, in fact, a literal fire so not actually a terrible day).

Your feet were sore and a headache that had started with your coworker's news and grown from there threatened to overwhelm you.

There were still a few stops until yours, so you slipped your headphones out of your bag and opened your Utube app. 

Thank you unlimited data!

You found Angel Voice's latest video and began to play.

(Ok, you now had actually figured out his Utube username and finally bothered to remember it, but he'd started as Angel Voice to you and it just worked in your mind!)

Ahhhhhh…

Why does he have such a great voice? It was perfect! Deep and smooth and perfectly made to whisper sweet (or not so sweet) nothings in your ear while you gently played with his wild purple hair. Fuck, his hair was so pretty! You'd bet your left buttcheek it was soft as clouds…

Ugggghhhhh... Fine. 

You were crushing on a pro hero. 

Are you happy, universe? 

Your fated journey to become a groupie had begun. Might as well accept it and focus on more important things… like Angel Voice's hair.

Or, you know, his voice…

You fell into the sound of his speaking.

Hah, it was like an automatic reaction at this point. Your shoulders started to unknot and that stereotypical breath you didn't know you were holding in rushed out in a grateful sigh.

However, it didn't take you long to realize that he hadn't started into the asmr immediately as you were expecting. Paying more attention, you rewound the video to the beginning and actually listened to what he was saying.

"I'm not sure exactly how to do this." He let out a dry half chuckle. "I haven't completely convinced myself I should. But, um…"

He paused with a frustrated sigh, then seemed to take a deep breath. 

"Ok, to hell with it. I'm doing this. Dear, girl I met the other night who took a guy out by kicking him in the nuts."

Was he talking about you? Was there another girl who kicked a guy in the nuts on his patrol? Damn, he met a lot of kickass girls on patrol! Good for her! She was getting a personal shoutout from Angel Voice! 

"I know it might seem kind of weird to be doing this over Utube, but I missed my chance at first, then the police arrived and everything was crazy and I had to leave to help out another pro."

Wow, sounds intense. Bet that was stressful. Oh, wait. Hah. You knew it was stressful.

"So I blew my chance to ask for your number."

He wanted her number? Damn! Super lucky girl!

Wait, this wasn't an rp video was it?

You pulled out your phone to check, but the title and description didn't mention any kind of rp. Aww! This was real! And it was adorable!

A tiny piece of sad ripped itself free of the fuzzy feelings you were experiencing. He had been so kind and you'd had such a fun time conversing. It would have been really amazing if this were for you. You had really liked the piece of personality you'd been able to see.

"I'm really hoping you'll hear this video, and hear it in time, because I'd love to go get coffee with the girl who accidentally body-slammed her coworker on her birthday."

Holy.

Shit.

That…

THAT WAS YOU!

That had been you! Your stupid coworker had snuck up behind you at the end of the day in a semi-dark area of work and shouted in your ear to scare you.

It had worked. 

You'd been so scared that you'd grabbed him, flipped him over your shoulder, and body-slammed him into the floor.

And… and you'd told Angel Voice that night as you sat talking about some of your more notorious takedowns. 

This was for you.

This video was for you!

What the fuck?!

This video was for you!?

You had to rewind a hot second to hear what came next.

Then you had to pause and go back yet again, because your mind was in such a frenzy and your heart was beating so loudly in your ears you couldn’t concentrate on what was being said!

“So if you hear this and, um, you’re interested at all, girl who took down a fully grown man in five seconds, I’ll be waiting at the spot we first met at five pm today. I, uh, really hope I’ll see you there again.”

The video ended. 

Your heart was still aiming for professional drummer in your chest.

You could see him raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck with that last statement. He’d done it that night and you could picture it in your mind. 

Wait! What time was it?

4:50 pm.

No.

Nonononononono!

You were going to miss the meeting.

You were still six train stops away from yours and that alone would take you fifteen minutes! Not to mention the next fifteen minutes it’d take to get to the meeting place! 

Of course, that was walking speed. You could run.

Frantic eyes looked down at your shoes. Not exactly running shoes. 

Whatever, you’d make do.

You wanted to see him again.

You could just imagine the disappointment on his face if you didn’t show and that melancholy from earlier reared its weepy head and cried out in frustration because you didn’t want to hurt him!

And you really wanted to see him again!

The next fifteen minutes were the most agonizing you could remember enduring in recent history. This was worse than the time you spilled coffee on your favorite author and his manager had yelled at you for five minutes while they changed! I mean, that had been pretty bad, but the author had been incredibly nice about it after getting back and even mentioned it humorously in the book you had asked them to sign. It was still easily the most awful you'd ever felt and you’d really wanted nothing more than to run away.

This. Was. Worse.

So much worse because you couldn’t actively work towards your quickly approaching deadline and destination. You had to sit there… waiting.

Your leg was bouncing up and down and a few fellow train riders were giving you slightly concerned looks. You were too wound up to care.

Finally, finally!

You arrived at your stop, hurried off the train as quickly as you could without being the absolute worst human ever, and ran.

Your shoes remained on your feet until you almost killed yourself stumbling over them, then they were in your arms.

Decorum be damned!

This was a matter of life or date! (And preferably not death by shoe!)

You made it to the spot where you’d met him at exactly 5:12 pm.

You were sweaty. 

Hell, that was an understatement.

You were pretty sure you’d left a trail of sweat behind you and you could feel it running in rivulets down your back. There was probably a stain back there… And on your armpits… and on… everywhere.

You knew your hair was an absolute mess. 

But as bad as you knew you must look, you felt worse.

Your lungs were on fire. You had absolutely no breath left in your entire body. It felt like you had a knife in your side. In both sides actually. Your entire body was trying to imitate an oven with the level of heat radiating off your skin. Your legs were simultaneously wobbly and shaking and you weren’t sure you’d trust them taking another step at the moment.

And now you had sweat in your eye. Stinging.

But none of that even mattered. 

All of that was stupid and trivial and inconsequential because he wasn’t there.

You’d taken too long.

He was gone.

No vibrant purple hair and sleep-deprived eyes.

No stupid half-smile.

That melancholy came back and instead of quietly tugging at your heart, it hit you square in the chest with an emotional cast-iron frying pan. 

No.

No!

Damnit!

You’d really wanted this.

He was… he was so fucking witty and kind that night.

He’d been soft and understanding and hot. And fucking adorable.

And… and… he wasn’t there.

Fuck.

You slumped in place.

Every ounce of your physical exhaustion caught up to you in an instant and you felt the mortifying sting of tears trying to sneak their way out of your eyes. 

Talk about adding insult to injury.

It wasn’t that bad. This wasn’t that bad.

So, you didn’t get to meet up with a cute hero for coffee. Big deal. Poor unfortunate soul. It was nothing to cry about.

But you’d really wanted to see him again.

Guess it didn’t matter anymore.

You turned, ready to march across the street to that convenience store and buy half of their ice cream, but something tickled your brain.

Something out of the corner of your eye.

Your head whipped around.

There!

It was a flash of purple down the street.

Your eyes snapped to that portion of the sidewalk. 

It was purple hair.

Crazy, wild, tousled, purple hair!

You knew that hair!

But your stupid legs literally wouldn’t run anymore. And he was far enough away that you wouldn’t catch up if you could run.

You reacted without thinking.

You really acted without thinking.

“ANGEL VOICE!”

You shouted his name at the top of your lungs.

Sorry.

You shouted your own private, very personal nickname that you had only spoken out loud to your very best friend and, unfortunately, him.

In the middle of a crowded street.

During rush hour.

Your brain was an utter masterpiece of stupid.

You stood there, frozen with the realization of your own idiocy, as the head of purple hair stopped, looked to the side, looked to the other side, then tuuurrrnnned around.

Made eye contact with you through the busy crowd.

Then doubled over laughing.

You couldn’t hear him from where you stood, but you could feel him laughing.

You could see it in the way his bent shoulders shook and his torso convulsed, nearly spasming with the force of his laughter.

And there you stood, still stuck to your spot.

You’d called him Angel Voice out loud in a crowd out loud in front of a bunch of strangers out loud.

And as much as you wanted to run, you couldn’t even twitch.

Not as you watched him finally finish laughing and fully turn to face you. Not as you watched him begin to walk toward you through the throng of people (just beginning to turn back to their own business in the aftermath of your outburst). Not as he stopped directly in front of you, a delighted smile on his sleepy, stupidly attractive face and the corners of his eyes still just slightly crinkled with laughter.

“Hey there,” he said and it felt like the softest slap to the face you’d ever received.

Your frozen body finally remembered its fight or flight reflexes and, wouldn’t you know, you suddenly learned how to fly.

As you turned to bolt, Angel Voice reached out, calling to you.

“Hey, wait! You’re just gonna run after all of that?”

He didn’t grab you.

That detail broke through the panic.

Even though he reached out with his hand, he didn’t grab you.

You stopped.

“I wanna run because of all that!” you blurted.

His chuckles sent a wave of heat down your spine, both embarrassed and… otherwise. Ok, fine! He had a sexy voice! And it turned you on more than you liked to admit! 

Who let him have a voice like that?

It was not freaking fair!

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Fuck, he sounded sincere. 

You slowly turned around, face still burning.

You two stared at each other for a minute.

A smile crooked your lips.

“So, uh, what’s a place like you doing in a voice like this.”

Silence.

“Fuck.” 

Your hand came up to rub at your forehead as he began laughing again. A full, big laugh instead of a chuckle.

“I should probably just give up on the talking thing, shouldn't I?”

“I hope not. I could listen to you all day,” he said with a small grin.

And now your heart it was afluttering.

“I feel like that should be my line,” you mumbled, watching him catch his breath from all that big old laughing through the fingers splayed across your face.

There was a pause in the conversation. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it hadn’t really achieved comfortable silence.

“So, um.”

You looked up from your hand.

Good fuck, he was doing the rubbing the back of his neck thing again. Illegal. Freaking illegal is what that was. No man should possess that level of cute.

“I mentioned grabbing coffee in the video. I’d like to assume you being here means you’re interested?” The sentence ended with a slight upturn, indicating a question. He looked up at you, uncertainty in his gorgeous violet eyes.

Why the hell was he uncertain?

This mortherfucking hottie with a voice made for swooning (and spooning) was nervous about asking you to coffee (adateadateadateadate).

Without thinking, you voiced this exact thought out loud (sans the date portion... and the spooning. Spooning was for non-dumbasses). 

Angel Voice looked absolutely floored.

“I’m sorry, but do you own a mirror?” he asked. There was a tension in his voice that almost had you shrinking into yourself.

Ouch.

Damn.

Ouch.

Well, at least he was blunt.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You met him on the floor.

Dead. Ass.

He just called you gorgeous.

There was a set to his jaw now and a sort of light in his eyes. He looked very… determined. Set, was what you’d call it. He seemed very set on a decision.

"It was great talking to you the other night. I can't get out of my head how funny and smart you were. And you're so fucking cute I want to wrap you up in my jacket and stay there forever."

His face was blazing red now. His ears too. Ok, that was hella adorable. You felt your own self flush with happy bashful feelings. I mean, he himself had just supplied you with the sappiest, schmoopiest mental image you’d really ever conceived.

“I’d really like to go get some coffee together.” He went quiet for a minute, seeming to mull something over in his head, and that stupid hand came up to rub at his neck again.

Ugh, he was gonna kill you with that! 

“Would you go on a date with me?”

If your heart was fluttering before, it was nearly palpitating now!

“Yes! Please! I mean, yes I want to go on a date with you!”

He smiled, a breathless, bewildered, almost (dare you think) dorky smile. It was fucking beautiful.

"Wow," he exhaled.

A snort escaped you. "Again, I feel like that should be my line."

But you smiled back.

And there you both stood, almost dazedly smiling, little happy thoughts buzzing through your minds. 

“We should probably head to a cafe if we’re going to get coffee,” Angel Voice finally murmured.

You started.

The both of you were standing like idiots in the middle of the sidewalk, just staring at each other.

“Coffee, right. Anywhere in mind, Angel Voice?” The nickname slipped out almost by accident.

He held out his hand to you and you took it gently. 

“Angel Voice, huh?” he laughed quietly. “I think I can go with that.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! You still haven’t told me your name.” You sent a playful tug along the arm you held by the hand and felt a little thrill of joy when he returned it just as playfully. "You're officially Angel Voice until you enlighten me."

The two of you had started walking. He seemed to have a destination in mind. Man with a plan. Nice.

“I know a cafe nearby. Do you mind?” he asked, softly pulling you along in invitation while leaving enough slack for you to object if you wanted.

Man with a plan who asked nicely. Nice.

“Not at all, Angel Voice.” You had a point to make and a guy to tease!

He chuckled again.

“My name is Hitoshi. Hitoshi Shinsou.” That slightly devious grin crept back onto his face. “But Angel Voice works for me.” He snuggled in close to your cheek, the side of his body leaning comfortably into yours. Then he whispered in your ear and you nearly fell over. "Especially if you're screaming it as loud as you did earlier."

Good lord, your knees nearly collapsed. 

His voice, his stupid voice, saying such a frisky thing so close did such a number on you that you couldn't respond for a moment. It was all you could do to keep breathing.

His voice was going to be the death of you! You couldn’t think. Should you respond? What did you say to that? Something equally as frisky! But his voice!

He tensed a bit at your lack of response. 

"Was that too much? Did I cross a line?" he asked, still speaking low right in your ear.

"Son of a bitch, if you don't stop that right now, I'm gonna jump your fucking bones right in the middle of this street." Your voice was full of urgency, but if he didn't stop you really were liable to unleash every single ounce of wild attraction you felt towards him at that exact moment, street full of people be damned!

He stopped walking.

Oh, shit. You could hear the Cheshire grin.

"You mean, like this?"

You sagged against him, letting your knees tremble. Your hand, still tangled, clutched his tightly.

His chuckle this time was less… benevolent than before. "What? You called me Angel Voice." His thumb ran soothingly over your hand. "I had to see if I could tempt you."

You couldn't help it. You turned your face to bury it in his jacket. What a magnificent, teasing butthead you'd just gotten yourself tangled up with. It was amazing!

"That’s going to come back to bite me, isn't it?"

“All the time.”

A tiny little butterfly crept into your stomach. You didn’t want to read too much into it (although after his teasing, you didn't really feel like it was reading into things), but ‘all the time’ sounded like there was going to be, well, plenty of time. It was a very welcome, warm idea.

As soon as your legs de-noodled (Hitoshi making snarky comments like a brat the entire time), the two of you continued on in an easy silence, exchanging teases every so often. The sun was setting and the entire world was covered in golden tones. Rush hour was winding down and the foot traffic in the area was dissipating, leaving a much more comfortable number of people around.

Your brain focused on the soft, warm quality of the light, the muted shocks of excitement zipping through your lower back, and the soft weight of his calloused hand surrounding yours. 

You gave a little, light squeeze.

"I'm so happy I ran, Angel Voice.”

He just chuckled and squeezed back.

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Two Ghosts (part 3) {Dabi}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Click to read Part 1 and Part 2

Alongside Bakugo and Midoriya as well as several other hero course students, Shoto was tasked with evacuation. They worked quickly and much more efficiently than expected but he wasn’t happy. He felt that his quirk and the quirks of his work study partners were much better suited for the backup villa team than some who were assigned there. Still, he had his orders.

But the best laid plans and strategies were not enough to keep his course when he saw blue flames light up one wing of the large building in the distance, fire and smoke dancing into the sky in a tornado pattern. His legs were carrying him to the villa before he registered he was moving and behind him he could hear Bakugo and Burnin screaming at him as he ran.

He dodged through other heroes and the straggling citizens before taking the steps two at a time up to the lavish mansion. It was only as he flung the door open to see the fighting inside did he realize he had been followed.

“Todoroki, what are you doing?!” asked the frantic voice of Midoriya behind him.

“I have to be here, Midoriya,” he explained quickly. If Dabi and Kazane were here that meant that Touya and Raila were too and he had waited days, weeks, months to say his piece to the two family members that had been stolen from him.

Shoto turned away from his classmate and headed to the end of the villa that he had seen ablaze, avoiding the questioning gazes of the heroes who knew he wasn’t assigned to their team and pressing on. The blood rushing in his veins and the pounding of his heart were the only things keeping him grounded as he ran.

It was only after turning a corner that he skidded to a stop at the sight of a figure in front of him. The blonde’s face was familiar, one he knew he had seen at the training camp and in the heart of Kamino.

“You’re one of Izuku’s friends!” she squealed excitedly. “He’s here too isn’t he? Is he bleeding?”

He activated his quirk, his hands crackling threateningly. “You shouldn’t be concerned about him right now. If you surrender, I’ll speak to your cooperation.”

“Ohhh, you’re Endeavor’s baby boy aren’t you?” she asked, ignoring his words completely. “You don’t look like you’re scared to use your fire like at the Sports Festival, is it because of what Izuku said to you? Fire’s boring because burns don’t bleed, they just get weepy.”

“Are you going to surrender or not?” he asked tersely.

She rocked onto her heels in a girlish fashion, her hands behind her back as she grinned, the points of her teeth glinting in the low light of the corridor. “No, I’m gonna get a nice taste of you and then get close to my cute little Izuku.”

Pulling a needled pump from behind her she launched herself forward and before Shoto could react with a sheet of ice to freeze her to the floor, a heavy blast of air flew past him and knocked her back. Then an electric green flash filled the space and within seconds he could see Toga on her stomach, Midoriya kneeling beside her holding down her wrists.

“Izuku!” she chirped.

Ignoring her, Midoriya looked up at Shoto. “We were on evacuation, we shouldn’t be in here! What the hell are you doing?”

“I told you, I need to be here—”

A low, chilling voice cut him off as blue flames began to lick along the walls, “Of course the prodigal son of Endeavor would need to be in the middle of the action.”

“Can’t get credit if you’re not at the scene,” agreed a feminine lilt.

Turquoise and gold eyes shone from the darkness at the end of the corridor, two long coats obscuring the rest of their bodies. A shiver ran up Shoto’s spine at the realization that he was finally coming face to face with the missing pillars of his past.

A shout startled him from his thoughts and his gaze shifted back to Midoriya who was clutching his wrist and Toga was licking the needle point of her support item. Laughter came from behind them.

“C’mon Peach, our vampire can handle two baby heroes herself, we’ve got a more pathetic one to tend to.”

The pet name made him go rigid.

“Take him, Peach.”

It echoed in Shoto’s mind, dreams and memories and the present moment blending into one.

As they disappeared down an adjacent hallway, Toga lunged for Midoriya who immediately went on the defensive. In that moment, Shoto made his decision. He sprinted forward and sent a thick sheet of ice across the carpeted floor that crept up Toga’s legs just as she crouched down for another attack, quite literally freezing her in place.

“Keep her contained, I have to go after them!” he called back to Midoriya as he rounded the same corner, guilt twisting in his stomach at leaving his friend behind.

Dabi and Kazane were ahead of him, swift and silent as they moved deeper into the villa, and he shouted to get their attention. It was only when they glanced back at him, their stride not breaking, that he noticed the state of them; smoke was billowing from beneath Dabi’s staples, blood clotting where some had popped free, and Kazane had soot smeared across her face and shallow cuts on her neck.

A wild look came to Dabi’s eyes and he stopped, Kazane following his lead with a small smirk. Shoto slowed to a stop several meters from them as they turned.

“What are you gonna do, little hero?” Dabi asked with a grin. “You gonna capture us? Freeze us? Burn us? Know ya ain’t got the stones to kill us. Guess your old man didn’t teach you that yet, huh?”

“Think about your odds,” Kazane said as she stepped forward. “You can’t take on both of us.”

“You won’t hurt me,” he replied, his voice sure despite the opposite being burrowed deep in his chest.

Dabi’s eyes went wide and he cocked his head with a sinister smile pulling at his burned skin. “Oh is that so? You think because you’re a kid—a child soldier—I won’t turn you to ash? Any other little hero brat, maybe, but you?”

Kazane grabbed his arm as he started toward Shoto, a warning squeeze to his bicep just barely perceptible to Shoto’s keen eye. “Bigger fish, love.”

“No, no, no, Peach!” he laughed manically and swept his free arm out in front of him. “Don’t you see we have the perfect bait right here? How better to coax out Endeavor than with his MASTERPIECE?”

Ice began to slowly creep from beneath his boot in preparation for the fight brewing. He didn’t want to fight them, but he also knew that his acknowledgement of who they really were would only provoke them more. So he would do the only thing he could—stay on the defensive.

And when flames erupted from Dabi’s palm, he sent a jet of his own fire towards it as a counter meant to stop it. He didn’t expect Kazane to send a cylindrical gust of wind to carry the blue stream in a wider pattern, his traditional flames swallowed to grow the blast as it came for him, and he tried to throw a wall of ice up to soften the blow.

The ice shattered, melting before shards could hit the carpeted floor, and Shoto felt the heat on his face as he dodged left, rolling until he was in a kneeling position with one hand braced against the wall as he panted.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Kazane said distastefully, looking down her nose at him, the golden hoop in her septum glinting in the light of the residual flames clinging to the walls around them. “Kids like you are so quick to turn a blind eye to the flaws of the system that trains you to die. And for what? Fame? Fortune? The approval of the monster you call Father?”

“No,” he growled, the scent of singed hair lingering in the air.

“Deny it all you want,” Dabi sneered, “but the truth is you want to be a hero because its what your old man wanted for you. Appeasing the bastard’s shortcomings means you’re finally perfect, right?”

“NO!” he shouted, fists clenched tightly.

Kazane giggled. “Love, look, we’ve made the puppet angry!”

Shoto hated her callousness, hated that this was what they thought of him. He’d spent every waking moment since the Sports Festival searching for his own heroic purpose past what his father had wished for. He had friends who supported him despite his hardened attitude at the beginning of their first semester and encouraged him when he didn’t think he could break the mold he had been forced into. Even his family dynamic, slow as it was, was changing. He just wished there were two more people to work with when it came to the Todoroki name.

“I want to be a hero to save people.”

Their laughter died out when he spoke, amused looks and raised eyebrows replacing it.

“It’s a hero’s job to save people, people who can’t save themselves,” he continued with a bowed head. “Whether they ask for help or don’t believe they deserve it, I want to save them. I want to protect them because when I was a child I was worked to the bone, trained to the point of sickness, just to be told I was wasting my potential. But I had people that tried to be my hero, that tried to save me. One was my mother and the others were my brother and his girlfriend.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, do you think we’re going to pity you because you know how to talk your way out of this with other idiots?” Dabi spat, advancing on him once again. “You think you can pull the daddy issues card with me and get away with it? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you right now?” He stood before Shoto and grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerking his head up to look at him.

“You’re… you’re supposed to know that I want to be a hero for the right reasons,” he replied thickly, his scalp stinging and his heart pounding in his chest.

Dabi scoffed and tossed him back, his kneeling position causing him to stumble and fall back against the far wall of the corridor.

Breathing heavily, Shoto looked up at both of them, Kazane still a few meters behind Dabi. “I want to be a hero so that I can save people who feel trapped or feel like they don’t have a choice. I want to be a hero, a real hero, to make Touya and Raila’s sacrifices worth something.”

Kazane inhaled sharply and Dabi blanched, this time being the one stumbling back. She grabbed his arm with white knuckles when she reached him, both of their expressions unreadable.

How could he know their real names?

“It took me so long to realize it,” he whispered, locking eyes with Kazane. “But your eyes are what gave you away. They made me remember warmth, of what love is supposed to feel like, and when Fuyumi found old pictures and I saw you, it all came back. He… he still calls you ‘Peach’ even with your hair dark like this.”

The villains were still.

Shoto continued, this time looking to Dabi. “I don’t know all the details, but I know you were trying to make him train you instead of me, that’s how the fire started. I… I wish things were different. I wish you had stayed! His training… I’d take it a hundred times over if it meant you had never left. If it meant our family stayed together and you got to marry Raila, I would take all of the punishment again.”

He pushed himself up to stand, his legs trembling as his head lolled back to rest against the wall, his scalp still tingling from his brother’s grip.

“If you surrender I’ll speak to your cooperation just like I told your friend,” he said quietly. “Turn against Shigaraki and the Paranormal Liberation Front, work with us to keep innocent people safe. Eraserhead, Present Mic, my teachers, they’re real heroes. They’ll help you. I’ll help you. Endeavor has shown the drive to improve and to better himself but you owe him nothing. None of us do.”

An uncomfortable feeling settled heavy in Dabi’s chest. He wasn’t attached to Shigaraki or anyone else in the League or the PLF—Kazane excluded—but he had the want, the need to continue Stain’s work of ridding the world of the false heroes who were sat upon the highest of pedestals and they were the best means of accomplishing that. Endeavor was his largest target and the desire to see the light leave his eyes, the eyes he had inherited, was so strong that it had helped him survive for the past decade.

How could Shoto expect him to just abandon every awful moment he had experienced for the first seventeen years of his life? How could he advocate for the system that had ultimately, and quite literally, sparked years of abuse for both of them? How could he have such hope that the black mark on each of the Todoroki’s could be washed away if he were to return?

Kazane’s features softened as she gazed at the young hero. He had grown tall like Touya—Dabi?—and he was lean but solid. No more was he the small boy she had put on her hip and carried through the Todoroki compound, but similarities were there. The desperate look in his eyes was one that had haunted her for the many years they had been gone and her heart clenched at the knowledge that this time, it was her fault. She’d always hoped for the best for him but once he was in front of her she assumed the worst of Endeavor had taken over him; when he was training to be a hero at his father’s alma mater how could she not? She hated that the bastard’s influence could still sway her after so long.

She turned to Dabi and intertwined their hands briefly, giving a quick squeeze before turning back to Shoto. Cautiously, she approached him, her hand falling from Dabi’s.

“You really remember?” she murmured.

He nodded. “I knew your eyes first, but after the photos I remembered your hair being pink and the paper cranes.”

Her expression became pained. She wished that there were better times to remember than when she had taken him away from training so Touya could shout at their father. He should have remembered festivals and ice cream shops instead of muffled screaming and the residual heat on his skin.

But she also wished there was a way to reverse the damage done after they’d left too.

“Your scar,” she said. “We should have—”

“No,” he interrupted with a shake of his head. “That’s not on you.”

She stood only an arm’s length away when the emotions became too much. As often as she told herself that the past didn’t hurt the façade came crashing down when she looked at the boy in front of her. She reached out a hand to cup his cheek, the last time she had done so being ten years prior.

But her hand never made contact.

A large bang came from behind her before a blinding orange stream of flames engulfed her body completely, her mouth opening in a silent scream as her flesh began to bubble and melt.

Dabi was frozen as he watched from the opposite wall he had been shoved into, his eyes opening just as the fire overtook her form. There was a ringing in his ears and a lump in his throat when her body curled in on itself and she was able to turn towards him. Through the shock of the scene unfolding, he could make out one booming voice.

“Don’t you dare touch my son!”

And his heart stopped beating as he locked eyes with Kazane, the anguish clear in them despite her now disfigured features before they became void, the once vibrant golden color reduced to a dull, lifeless hue not unlike unpolished metal. A cold chill ran down his spine at the realization that she was gone. Kazane who loved his cause, Raila who loved his family, his peach who loved him… gone.

Clothing reduced to ash and skin cracked with blisters and exposed muscle lie in a heap before Shoto, his horrorstricken expression persistent as his breathing grew ragged and he started screaming at Endeavor.

Dabi wasn’t sure if what he was saying was coherent or not but it seemed to stir something within Endeavor who rounded on him, their matching eyes going unnoticed by the older man who snarled something at him lost to the blood rushing in his ears. Shoto’s borderline hysterics seemed to spur him on because he ignited a fist and came for Dabi with wild eyes.

Instead of standing to face him like he had dreamt of doing for so many years, he stayed on the ground propped against the wall. A thousand thoughts consumed him as his gaze shifted again to the charred body of the woman he loved. He was going to die the same way in the corridor of this villa.

Why would he fight now? Enji Todoroki had stolen his childhood, his family, and now the love of his life. Did dismantling the institution he was the face of even bring satisfaction if his peach wasn’t by his side?

It truly didn’t matter if it would or not. He would fail. He had failed as a successor to Endeavor. He had failed as a son to his mother. He had failed as a brother to Fuyumi and Natsuo. He had failed as a shield to Shoto. He had failed as a disciple of Stain. He had failed as a protector to Kazane. What good was he?

If anything he felt guilty for it all. He couldn’t protect Shoto or Kazane and now Shoto was going to see two people he cared about taken away from him and Kazane was dead.

Dabi wondered when it would be enough, when Endeavor would be satisfied with all he had taken from his children. He doubted it would ever come even long after he left this life. It didn’t matter anyway; Dabi knew it was pointless to go on without Kazane—it’s not like he could survive without her, and at least in death they had the chance to come back together

He let his eyes fall closed; he wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction of looking him in the eye as he dealt the final blow.

The heat from Endeavor’s flames licked at his skin and the booming voice followed, drowning out Shoto’s screams to stop, wait, don’t do this! But for all the senses he still had that could push past the numbness settled into his chest since he’d watched life leave Kazane, he could paint so many pictures of the past melded with the reality of his present.

Shoto’s voice was no longer soft and high like it had been when he was a child but strong and deep, fit for the hero Dabi now knew he would become—a true, worthy hero who was a hero to do good in the world—but his distorted shouts and pleads for mercy ignored while Endeavor shouted. Kazane—no, Raila was beside him but quiet not by his direction this time. The flames dancing behind his eyelids were growing brighter as Endeavor’s voice grew louder and without the additional fighting around them, he could swear they were back in the Todoroki compound’s training room.

It was fitting, he supposed, that Kazane and Dabi be ended by Endeavor’s flames. Touya had been created to receive the flames and had in a way been ended by them, just as Raila had. Dabi and Kazane had been born from them, and now...

Now flames came back to flames. Ashes would turn to ashes. Dust would turn to dust. Two ghosts would cross from one plane to another.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Click here to read Part 1 and Part 2

[prouvaireafterdark]

Temporary Wounds (3/3)

WE DID IT KIDS! SHE’S FINALLY DONE! Special thanks to @angsty-aliens and @el-gilliath for the virtual cheerleading :)

Part I | Part II

Also on AO3

***

He’s at the Pony again, five shots too many into what was supposed to be a relatively chill night, but, well, it’s also the eleventh anniversary of the day Alex left for basic training and Michael is feeling sorry for himself.

It’s been weeks since Alex and He Who Shall Not Be Named broke up, but Alex still hasn’t told him why. Michael can’t shake the feeling that that’s important somehow, that maybe the reason they broke up has something to do with him, but he sure as hell isn’t about to ask.

So that leaves him here, on the yearly reminder of one of the shittiest days of his life, drowning his sorrows at the Wild Pony like he’s done just about every year running. He’s idly dragging his finger around the rim of his whiskey glass when Maria appears in front of him.

“So,” she starts, leaning forward over the bar on her elbows, “Alex texted me.”

His ears perk up a little at the mention of Alex, but when she doesn’t elaborate, Michael responds, “Congratulations?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “He’s looking for you.”

“Why?” Michael asks, leaning forward in his seat, his interest piqued.

“He didn’t say,” she answers. “Are you avoiding him? Because I can tell him I haven’t seen you if you want.”

“Why would I be avoiding him?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but you’re sitting in my bar staring down the bottom of a bottle for the first time in weeks so something is clearly up with you,” she says.

He grimaces, almost missing the days when he didn’t have friends who noticed things like that.

“Plus,” she continues, “if he’s texting me to find out where you are, you must not be answering him.”

“Not on purpose,” Michael says, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He tosses it on the bar in front of him. The screen is cracked to hell and bits of glass have already started chipping off entirely.  

“Jesus, how’d that happen?”

“Fell out of my pocket when I was climbing the ladder out of my bunker,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. He’d fallen asleep down there after trying and failing to discover a way to bring Max back. He’d slept worse than usual, still dead tired when he climbed up the ladder to get something to eat, and his reflexes were too slow to save his phone. It was the cherry on top of an already shit day. “So much for being telekinetic.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m a psychic who didn’t immediately realize her not-boyfriend was in love with her best friend,” she says, offering him an ironic smile.

“You know, it really doesn’t.”

They’ve reached the point where they can joke about their failed romantic experiment, but now’s not really the time.

“Alright, well, if you don’t want me to tell Alex where you are, speak now or forever hold your peace,” she says. “Maybe he can cheer you up.”

About thirty minutes later, a hand falls heavy against his back. Michael jumps, immediately on the defensive before he turns and sees a familiar pair of brown eyes staring back at him.

“Alex,” Michael says. Alex’s hand lingers on his back and there’s a whole new kind of tension thrumming through his body.

“Hey,” Alex replies, smiling.

He looks beautiful tonight, his hair tousled in a way that makes Michael just want to run his fingers through it and hold on. He’s wearing his leather jacket over a dark green henley that looks soft to the touch. His mouth moves, but all Michael can register is his sudden, overwhelming desire to kiss him.

“Uh, Guerin?” he hears Alex ask, that gorgeous smile dimming just a little as his brow creases and Michael snaps himself out of it. Alex isn’t Michael’s to look at like that. Not anymore.

“What?” Michael asks, eyes refocusing on Alex’s.

“Did you get my texts?” he repeats.

Instead of answering, Michael gestures toward his busted phone.

“Oh, wow,” Alex says, his hand falling from his back to inspect the phone. “How’d you manage that?”

“Dropped it,” he sighs, not wanting to reiterate the longer version of the story.

“From what, the Empire State Building?”

“Hilarious,” Michael comments, taking the phone from him. He puts it back in his pocket. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Michael watches Alex’s throat as he swallows, looking a little unsure of himself. Michael takes a sip of whiskey as a distraction while he waits for Alex to say something and when he does he notices Alex’s eyes narrow just a little.

“How many of those have you had?” Alex asks, gesturing toward the glass.

“Why, you looking to catch up?” Michael asks, a little defensive. He knows why Alex is asking and he’s really not looking for an intervention tonight, especially when he’s actually been doing really well at not spiraling into an abyss of alcohol and acetone dependency lately.

“Guerin,” Alex chides.

“Manes,” Michael replies in kind. He knows he’s being childish, but he didn’t come here to get judged.

“I thought you were easing up on drinking,” Alex persists.

“I am,” he snaps. “Just not right now.”

“Why?” Alex asks. “Did something happen?“

Michael laughs humorlessly, and before he can stop himself he asks, “You forget what day it is?”

Alex thinks about that a moment before it clicks. Michael can’t even look at him as he feels the sting of how much less that day seems to have meant to Alex. “Oh. You remembered the date?”

“How could I forget?” Michael asks, picking at the denim frayed at his kneecap. He’s not sure if it’s the liquor or the ache in his chest that makes him add, “Worst day of my fucking life.”

He supposes that, after Caulfield and Max, that might not exactly be true anymore, but it certainly was at the time. Sure, he’d been beaten bloody and bounced around from one shit home to another all his life, but Alex leaving him to go play soldier with his daddy? Shit, that had hurt worse than anything the New Mexico foster system could throw at him.

“Yeah,” Alex breathes, and something in his voice makes Michael look at him. His eyes are soft and full of regret. “Me too.”

Michael thinks about all the pain Alex has lived through, the trauma they’ve shared and the loss they haven’t and it kills him as much as it fuels him to think that Alex might be telling the truth.

“Alex…” he whispers, but the word hangs between them as they watch each other, caught in this fragile moment of honesty. “Look, I’m not, like, falling off the wagon or whatever, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words.

“Just what?” Alex prompts him, not angry or judgmental like Michael expects.

Michael shrugs halfheartedly. “Needed to take the edge off, I guess.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, not right away. Instead, he slowly reaches for Michael’s hand—the left one picking nervously at his frayed jeans—and covers it with his own. Michael lets out a shuddering breath as Alex starts to stroke his once-ruined knuckles with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says at last.

“What for?” Michael asks, voice rough.

“For putting you through that,” he answers, quiet and sincere. “I know it doesn’t mean much now, but… I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Tears prick at Michael’s eyes, but he blinks them hastily away. He will not cry in front of everyone and their mother in the Wild Pony, especially not over something so viscerally personal. He nods and clears his throat and hopes that’s enough.

Alex seems to understand. He gives Michael’s hand a final squeeze before he pulls his own away.

“So,” Alex starts abruptly, eyes shining in the dim lighting, “other than wrecking cell phones, what have you been up to lately? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

Michael’s grateful for the change in subject. He can feel himself relax more and more, the shadow of what happened a decade ago lessening the longer Alex talks to him. It’s a reminder that Alex didn’t stay gone, that he’s here, and Michael wishes he’d realized sooner that that was exactly what he needed.

When Michael talks about his research, Alex even sits patiently and listens to his scientific ramblings. That’s one of his favorite things about Alex that he’s discovered since they started being friends—how fucking smart he is. Even though they come from two different sides of the STEM field, he’s amazed at how much Alex is able to keep up with.

Eventually, Maria rings the bell for last call and as tired as Michael is he can’t help feeling a little disappointed that their night needs to end.

“Guess we should head out,” Alex says.

“Guess so,” Michael agrees.

“Can you drive?” Alex asks.

Michael bites his lip and thinks about it. He probably could make it home without incident, but he’s had a lot to drink tonight and he’s pretty exhausted. He doesn’t want to make Alex drive him home though. Maybe he’ll get a cab or sleep it off in the bed of his truck til he sobers up a little more.

“Your hesitation says no,” Alex interrupts his thoughts, making his decision for him. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Michael hears his name through the sleep-soaked fog clouding his mind and feels hesitant fingertips tickle his cheek before the warmth of someone’s palm settles over his neck.

When Michael opens his eyes to see Alex staring back at him, he feels his heart stutter, just a little. He’s sitting in the passenger seat of Alex’s car, the door ajar to make room for Alex to stand next to him. He must have fallen asleep on the ride.

“There you are,” Alex says, an amused quirk to the set of his mouth as he pulls his hand away. Over Alex’s shoulder, Michael sees the cabin instead of his Airstream. “For a second there I thought I was gonna have to carry you inside.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Michael replies drowsily.

Alex rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too when he says, “Come on, Guerin, inside,” and nudges him out of the car.

The ground shifts a little beneath his feet when he steps out of the car, but he rights himself before he does something embarrassing like face-plant in Alex’s driveway.

“You good?” Alex asks, eyeing him like a hawk.

“Yeah,” Michael brushes him off. “Just need some water.”

Once they’re inside, Alex greets Buffy, who is happily waiting for him near the threshold, and hangs his jacket up by the door before heading straight for the kitchen. Michael can hear the water from the tap running while he toes his boots off by the door after giving Buffy an adequate number of head scritches. He follows that sound into the kitchen to find Alex standing by the sink.

“I’d offer you ice, but the machine’s broken,” Alex says as he hands over a glass of cool water.

Michael takes it from him gratefully and leans back against the counter next to Alex.

“Want me to take a look?” he asks before he takes a sip.

“Maybe in the morning,” Alex answers, and there’s something about the way he says it that makes Michael feel warm. He realizes he’s never spent a night in Alex’s cabin before. It feels like he’s crossing an unspoken boundary tonight, like Alex is leading him over it.

“Am I crashing here then?” Michael asks, still not sure why Alex brought him here when he could have just brought him to the Airstream.

“Well, you were asleep, so I had to make an executive decision,” Alex shrugs. “I figured instead of dropping you off home now and then driving back to give you a ride to your car in the morning, I could just drop you off at your car on my way into town tomorrow. You don’t have anywhere to be early, right?”

“Nah. I could’ve taken a cab, though, saved you the trouble,” Michael points out.

“And how were you gonna call it?“ Alex counters.

“Touché.”

They stare at each other for a moment while Michael drinks more water before Alex says, “I’ll just get you something to sleep in. Be right back,” and disappears down the hall.

When Michael finishes his water, he sets the glass on the counter and goes off in search of Alex. The cabin’s large, by Michael’s standards anyway, but he finds Alex’s bedroom with ease. The door is open, tempting him inside.

Alex is standing in front of a dresser near the bed, rifling through its contents. He freezes when he hears the old floorboards creak beneath Michael’s weight.

“Hey,” he says, turning around to face him, a faded black t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants in his hands. “These should fit you,” he says, tossing the bundle of clothes. “There’s also a spare toothbrush in the bathroom.”

“Thanks,” Michael says once he’s caught them and takes a few steps closer to him. “So where do you want me?”

Michael watches the way Alex’s gaze lingers over his mouth, his neck. Alex wets his bottom lip before saying, “What?”

“To sleep,” Michael clarifies, hiding a smile. The hope he hasn’t let himself feel in so long simmers under the heat of Alex’s gaze.

“Oh, right,” Alex says, running a hand through his hair, snapping out of whatever thoughts he was having about Michael’s mouth. “I’d offer you the bed, but my leg won’t thank me if I sleep on the couch.”

“Probably more comfortable than my mattress anyway, so I’ll take it,” Michael says.

“Oh, it’s definitely more comfortable than your mattress,” Alex laughs. “That thing’s like cardboard.”

“Hey, don’t knock it too much,” Michael says, thinking of all the times he and Alex put its durability to the test. “That cardboard’s been with me through a lot.”

“I remember,” Alex says, flushing slightly.

“Hard to forget,” Michael adds, and he’s sure he doesn’t imagine the hungry look in Alex’s eyes when their eyes meet.

Alex clears his throat and looks away. “We should probably, uh, go to bed now.”

“Yeah, probably,” Michael agrees, even as he imagines what it’d be like to press Alex up against the dresser and get lost in him the way he used to. He won’t, but it’s a nice thought. “Goodnight, Alex,” Michael smiles and starts walking toward the door.

“Night, Guerin,” Alex smiles back. “See you in the morning.”

Michael heads into the living room to find Buffy sleeping on his bed for the night. Buffy, being a beagle, is not an especially large dog, but she’s somehow managed to stretch her body so long that she’s taking up half the couch.

Michael has half a mind to head back into Alex’s room—“Look at her, she’s too sweet to move, we’re just gonna have to share the bed, Alex, we’d be monsters to disturb her”—but he’s playing the long game and that’s just on the wrong side of desperate.

Instead, he nudges the dog closer to the edge of the cushion until there’s enough room for him to lay down. Buffy doesn’t seem to mind and he slides in next to her and pulls the blanket from the back of the couch to cover them both.

When Michael wakes up the next morning it’s to the smell of dark roast coffee wafting in from the kitchen. Buffy’s gone, he notices, presumably to chase birds in the yard or whatever it is dogs do in the morning. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he gets up to investigate.

Alex is standing in front of the stove, fully dressed, with one hand on his hip and a spatula in the other.

“Morning,” Alex smiles at Michael over his shoulder. “Coffee’s on the counter and eggs’ll be done soon.” He jabs the spatula toward the other end of the counter where a mug sits next to the coffee pot.

It’s so… domestic, Michael feels a little like he’s in the Twilight Zone, like he’s just walked from one dream into another where he and Alex are together and Alex is cooking him breakfast just because he can. It’s a far cry from the cold sheets he usually woke up to first thing in the morning when they used to hook up. It makes him feel off-kilter, vulnerable in some indescribable way, like someone looked deep inside his brain and plucked out a fantasy he never even knew he had.

“Hey, you okay?” Alex asks softly, turning around to get a better look at Michael.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says, snapping himself out of the daze he’s in. He heads to the coffeemaker and pours himself a cup. “Morning,” he adds when he remembers.

“How’d you sleep?” Alex asks.

“Like a baby,” he says, not entirely honest, but it makes Alex smile for some reason so he’s not about to contradict himself.

“Yeah, you looked pretty cozy this morning,” Alex says, voice light and amused. “I’ve never seen Buffy let anyone besides me spoon her like that, you should feel very special.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, wondering if Alex’s ex had a hard time getting Buffy to warm up to him. The thought gives him a sudden burst of smug satisfaction. He watches Alex cook, hiding his smirk behind the rim of his mug.

“Mhmm.”

“So what’s all this for?” Michael asks as he watches Alex try to flip the eggs without bursting any yokes.

“What do you mean?”

“This, breakfast,” he says, gesturing to what Alex is doing. Alex looks at him with an unsettled look and Michael’s quick to add, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but… people don’t usually go through this much effort for me when I crash on their couch.”

“Well that’s… sad,” Alex frowns. “It’s just eggs, Michael.”

The use of his first name makes his heart jolt. Alex rarely calls him that, and when he does the situation is usually much more intimate than this. Michael concentrates a little harder on Alex’s body language, searching for any hint of what Alex is really thinking.

He’s holding himself a little stiffly, fidgeting more than usual. When Alex catches him staring, he smiles at him a little too wide. If Michael were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have been able to catch it, but it’s suddenly plain as day. Alex is nervous about something.

“No, it’s not,” Michael says quietly, his stomach suddenly in knots himself. Alex deflates a little, like some of the air’s gone out of his sails. “What’s going on, Alex?”

“Can we eat first?” Alex sighs.

Michael doesn’t answer, immediately running through every possible thing Alex could want to talk to him about. It’s then he remembers that Alex was actively looking for him yesterday, but never told him why.

Alex pushes a plate into his hand and encourages him over to the kitchen table. Michael takes a seat, places the eggs in front of him, but he doesn’t touch them. Has Alex been waiting all night to talk to him about something? Why?

“It’s big, isn’t it?” he asks when Alex sits next to him, not across from him like he expects, with his own plate. Is Alex okay? Did he find something even more nightmarish than usual in the Project Shepard files? Fuck, is he being relocated?

“You should eat first, your eggs’ll get cold,” Alex says nudging Michael’s plate toward him with the tip of his finger before taking a bite of his own food. It’s as much of a confirmation as he needs.

“No offense, Alex, but I don’t give a damn about the eggs right now. Can you just tell me what you want to say?” Michael pleads. “I’m kind of freaking out.”

Alex sighs and puts his fork down beside his plate. “Please don’t freak out,” he says.

“Okay, I don’t know how they taught you to calm people down in the Air Force, but saying ‘please don’t freak out’ is maybe the worst thing you can say,” Michael complains.

“Okay, yeah, that maybe wasn’t the best way to lead,” Alex laughs self-deprecatingly. “It’s nothing bad, I swear—unless I’ve massively misread things, but I don’t think I have. There’s just been something on my mind lately and I’ve been waiting for the right time to talk to you about it.”

“Why didn’t you last night then?” Michael asks. Alex’s reassurance has assuaged some of his anxiety, but none of his confusion. “That’s why you were looking for me, right?”

“You were already drunk when I found you and if we were gonna talk about this, I wanted both of us to have clear heads,” he explains. “Figured it would be better to wait until morning.”

“Okay,” Michael says, shifting in his seat. “Well, I’m sober. Hit me.”

Alex takes a deep, fortifying breath before asking, “Do you remember what you said when I told you I broke up with my boyfriend?”

Whatever he was expecting Alex to say, it certainly wasn’t that. Michael swallows and tries to guard his expression.

“I asked why,” Michael answers. “You never told me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Alex agrees. “But that’s not all you said. You said he reminded me of what I was like in high school.”

Michael remembers. “You said that was part of the problem.”

“Yeah, it was.” Alex wets his bottom lip with his tongue and angles his body more toward Michael before he speaks again. Michael tracks the movement, feeling the sudden desire to lean in and taste, but he lost that right a long time ago. “Do you remember what I was in high school?”

“An irreverent mall goth with questionable fashion choices?” Michael quips, eyes still on Alex’s mouth, but he looks up when Alex laughs. He likes the way his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Well, maybe, but not the answer I was looking for.”

Emboldened by Alex’s mood, he guesses, “A sexy twink with an eyeliner fetish?”

“Michael,” Alex admonishes with a tilt of his head, but the smile’s still there. Michael’s stomach flips happily at Alex’s continued use of his first name.

“Alright, tell me then. What were you in high school?”

Alex sobers up a little and says, “In love with you.”

It’s not the first time Alex has told Michael he loved him in high school, but it takes Michael’s breath away all the same.

“Alex,” he whispers, but Alex raises his hand to stop him.

“Wait, just let me say this,” he says.  

Michael nods for him to continue, heart in his throat.

“I’ve been… reclaiming myself these last few months. So much of my life has been decided by my father and I needed to figure out who I am now that he’s gone, so I made some changes. I got new clothes, a new boyfriend, let my hair grow out a little. I finally felt like me again, but I was missing something. I was missing you.

“I thought maybe we could be friends, that it would be enough for me if I could just have you in my life somehow, but… God, near the end of our relationship, every time I was with him, I just kept thinking about who I was eleven years ago and how much that person loved you. And you know what I realized?”

Michael shakes his head, not trusting his voice.

“That’s the one thing that hasn’t fucking changed in the decade I’ve known you. It’s the only part of me my dad could never destroy, no matter how hard he tried,” Alex says, eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re at the core of me, Michael. You always will be and, as much as I love being your friend, I want more. I want everything.”

Michael’s not quite sure who moves first, but the next thing he knows his hands are in Alex’s hair and he’s locked in a kiss so intense it leaves him breathless. God, he’s missed this so much—the taste of Alex in his mouth, his hair soft as satin against his skin. Michael feels alive for the first time in a long time, but before he gets too carried away there’s something he needs to say. Michael pulls back from the kiss reluctantly, smiling softly when he sees how absolutely wrecked Alex looks.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” Michael confesses, untangling his fingers from Alex’s hair and reaching for his hand instead. He takes a deep breath and braces himself before he continues, “But if we do this, we do it for real, okay? No more hiding. No more running away. I can’t do that again, Alex. I won’t.”

“No more hiding, no more running away,” Alex reassures him. “I’m done pretending you’re not the most important person in my life. I’m all in if you are.”

“I am,” Michael nods.

“Really?” Alex asks, an excited smile teasing at the corners of his lips. “You really want to do this?”

A smile of his own breaks onto Michael’s face. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

Alex beams at him and moves back in to kiss him. Michael sighs happily into it, losing time to hot press of Alex’s mouth, to the warmth of his hands  against his scalp.

Their eggs get cold, but, well, who fucking cares?

“You’re at the core of me too, you know,” Michael whispers, hours later, when Alex is resting between his naked thighs, his head pillowed on his bare chest.

Michael can feel Alex smile against his skin. “I know,” he says, and presses a kiss to his sternum.

[livelongdolan]

Heart Shaped (G.D.)

Summary: In a world where matching birthmarks determines your soulmate, Y/N knows she will find the one for her, what she doesn’t expect is the nature of the relationship that quickly blossoms.

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: suicide (overdose), death (car crash), angst 

A/N: This is my first fic that I have posted so please let me know if there’s anything I should fix :) thank you for reading! (i also do tag lists if you would like to be added to it!)

     You had been looking forward to this day ever since your parents had first told you about the soulmate system. You were told that in order to make sure the population was stable for many years to come, people now had matching birthmarks which indicated who your soulmate was. See, every child had the normal spots that came around but there was one that changed once you were at a certain age. It was different for each child, but for you it was at the age of seventeen. The morning of your seventeenth birthday you had gotten up to brush your teeth and you looked into the mirror, noticing that the birthmark on your chin had shifted into a small heart in the same spot. You quickly rushed to your parents and they hugged you, telling you happy birthday but you stopped them before they could say anything else. You told them to look at your chin and they soon spotted the spot that had changed overnight. They congratulated you and the day continued on as normal with a little added excitement for the chance of seeing her soulmate out and about. 

     Today was that day. It was a sunny afternoon, so you decided to take a little walk in the park when you noticed a boy sitting all alone on a bench. He looked about your age and even from about ten feet away you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he leaned his head back on to them, stretching his legs out and almost to the path where people were jogging by. The strange thing was that they didn’t even move out of the way, it seemed as if they were just pretending he wasn’t there. You, being the kind person you were, decided to sit next to the boy and make some small talk since he seemed so alone. You made your way over to the bench and sat down next to him before crossing your legs and turning yourself towards him.

     “Hello! I noticed you were sitting here alone and I figured I would join you, as long as I’m not imposing or anything.” You spoke in your most polite voice in case there was a bad reason that no one was paying attention to him. 

     He simply raised his eyebrows as if he was confused, and looked at you straight on. You then noticed the heart shaped mark on his chin, in the same position that yours was in and butterflies went wild in your stomach. He had to be seeing this too right? That’s why he was confused? Oh, you really hoped he was because you didn’t want your soulmate to just be a rude man who wouldn’t talk to you. While the thoughts raced through your head he answered you with a voice deeper than you expected with a slight east coast accent. 

     “No, it’s okay. Uh, what’s your name? I’m Grayson.” He seemed to trip over his words. 

     “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You stuck your and out and shook his hand, which was surprisingly cold. Grayson, you thought, what a nice name for your soulmate and it perfectly fit him somehow. He had a strange aura about him, almost as if you had seen him before. You pushed that aside and put something out on the table that was most likely bugging him as much as it was bugging you. “So… we have the same birthmark.” You smiled slightly. 

     He looked at you closer and then realized the matching birthmark you had on your chin and a smile spread across your face. “Wow we really do,” he replied with the same smile that you had given him, “but something must be wrong.” His small smile quickly turned to a frown, as did yours. 

     “What do you mean? It can’t be wrong that’s how the system works. I’ve been waiting for this for all my life and you’re telling me it’s wrong?” You got slightly angry at the handsome boy seated in front of you. A couple with a stroller passed by and gave you a strange look, you assumed for almost yelling in the park, and you muttered an apology. You started to talk a little quieter. “What’s wrong with it Grayson?” You sighed. 

     “I think we should go somewhere else to talk about this, somewhere more private because what I’m going to tell you might shock you and I don’t want it to happen here.” He said quietly. You thought about it for a moment before you decided that it would be fine to go with him, even though you had just met him. You had your phone in your pocket if anything went wrong and, after all he was your soulmate. Right?

     You followed Grayson across the park, too caught up in your own thoughts to talk about anything. The two of you stopped after a bit and entered a small alcove, where no one could see you unless they went looking inside. You turned to Grayson with a questioning look, prepared to hear why he couldn’t be your soulmate. 

     “Okay, before I say anything you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone any of this ever happened because I’m afraid if you do, no one will believe you.” He said, as he rested his hand lightly on your forearm. You simply nodded your head, too confused to reply verbally. 

     After a deep breath, he finally said it. “I’m not alive.” He looked you dead in the eye and then you realized he was really just pulling a prank on you. You burst out in laughter but Grayson’s face remained the same as he waited for you to stop. Once you finally did, he spoke again. 

     “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. What do I have to do to prove it to you? You saw the way that people didn’t even acknowledge me. You saw the way that family looked at you when you were talking to me. They can’t see me. Only you can. And I’m assuming it’s because we are soulmates, which would be absolutely amazing if I were alive, the only problem is that i’m literally not.” His face was so serious that you actually believed him, your mouth gaped open in shock. 

     “B-but w-ha-” You stuttered out a few syllables but honestly you were speechless. Luckily, he spoke again so that you could process it all. 

     “I died a couple months ago. It’s still a pretty sensitive topic for me but if you’d like to hear it I will tell you.” He offered. You simply nodded your head although you weren’t really prepared to hear more about how the boy who was yours- or at least supposed to be- had died. 

     “Okay, well, back in April I was driving with my twin brother Ethan down a road that we went down almost every time we went to the beach but I was so distracted that instead of slowing down and actually stopping at the stop sign I went straight through since I didn’t notice it was there. Ethan’s side got hit first but I was just flung from the car on to the road. I looked back at Ethan and he was barely breathing, covered in blood, and had a shard of metal stuck through his chest. Someone called 911 but before we could even get there he died. He died because of me.” Grayson paused, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

     “If he is the one who died, why are you dead too?” You timidly asked. 

     Grayson wiped his eyes and continued. “Well, after he died I was stuck in the hospital for about a month getting healed and just seeing the hurt in my parents’ eyes broke me. They told me again and again that it wasn’t my fault but I knew they were lying. They knew they were lying. So I decided to take the burden off their shoulders. I knew that they hated looking at me because Ethan and I were twins so every time they saw me, they saw him too.” He took a sharp breath and continued on. “So instead of getting better, I got worse. I took the pain killers that the hospital had given me when they sent me home and I went in the bathroom that Ethan and I shared, and I took them all at once. I went through something which I am still not sure what it was but I could still see them. They found me on the floor holding a picture of him and tried to save me but it didn’t work. So now, I’m here.” 

     Tears had formed in your eyes as you listened to the boy’s sad story. You then remembered why you had recognized him earlier. He was the son of the well known Dolan Family, the ones that had made the system in the first place. You had seen the news of him and his brother’s death on the news. You could barely even believe that something so horrible could happen to someone, let alone your own soulmate. You pushed aside your slightly selfish thoughts and took a hold of his hand, the chill of it now made sense to you. 

     “I’m sorry Grayson. I’m so so sorry.” A single tear rolled down your cheek but he quickly moved the hand you weren’t holding up to brush it away. 

     “Hey hey darling, don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be apologizing because look at me. I’m your soulmate and I was stupid and messed it up. I’m sorry that we can’t be together love. But it’s okay. At least you can see me right? And I’ll always be here for you. I’m sure with the way the system works you’ll be reassigned to another guy.” He gave a weak smile.

     “Grayson, I don’t want another guy. I know it sounds stupid because I literally just met you but I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. I’ve had dreams about who my soulmate would be and just because you aren’t alive doesn’t mean you’re not my soulmate. They can’t just assign someone else to me, that’s not how love works.” You cried. 

     Grayson pulled you forward and into his embrace as you cried into the soft material of his shirt. He let his fingers run through your hair, savoring the moments he had with you while he still had them. After a few moments you pulled away, sniffling. 

     “C-can I ask you something?” You hiccuped. 

     “Of course darling.” He smiled. 

     “Where’s Ethan? Like how come you’re here as a ghost or whatever you are and he’s not? Wouldn’t that be how it works?” You questioned, blinking through blurry eyes. 

     “I’m not really sure actually. I just figured that since he had already found his soulmate he was able to be at peace. I guess since I didn’t find you, until just now, I was left here to find you. But I’m glad I was because I don’t know how I could go on without knowing you at least for a little bit of time.” He stated. 

     You nodded your head but then your brain caught on to the last part of the sentence. 

    “What do you mean a little bit of time?” You were confused, was he going to leave already? Just because he wasn’t alive? Sure, you couldn’t do much but you were the only one that could see him, touch him, feel him. 

     “Well I’m assuming that now we found each other I’m going to be at peace too. I think it’s better for me anyways. Don’t get me wrong I really really love talking to you even if we have just been talking for an hour but I really miss Ethan. And I’m always just a little bit away. I can still hear you even if I have passed on, I just can’t directly speak back.” He frowned a bit with his statement. 

     “O-okay. Can we at least spend as long as we can together? Not out in public because I don’t want to look like a crazy person but like anywhere else?” You questioned. He smiled and nodded his head, having the perfect place in mind. The two of you walked down the street and around the corner until you reached a quiet overlook that held just a bench. No one was around so you two spent the rest of the night there, after you sent a quick text to your parents letting them know that you were okay. You talked about anything and everything and you really did know why this boy was your soulmate. He was perfect for you. He loved building, the outdoors, sports, but also loved just slowing things down for a moment and capturing the memories that really meant something. You learned about his family, and how Ethan tried to make them start a YouTube channel once but it never took off. You also learned about his hometown in New Jersey and all of the torment he went through in high school. You learned so much about this boy, but you would soon have to let him go. 

     It was close to five in the morning when Grayson felt a strange sensation in his stomach, almost as if he was being pulled. He looked down at you, laid asleep in his lap, and he knew it was time. He grabbed your phone and snapped a few pictures, then opened up the notes and typed out something for you to wake up to. He set your phone back down, sliding it into your pocket and pressed a soft kiss on your cheek before moving you slowly off of him. You grumbled a bit in your sleep but didn’t wake up as Grayson slowly faded away, going to be with his brother again after finally meeting his true love. 

     A couple of hours later you woke up and soon last night’s memories came flooding back as you started to panic. You looked around for Grayson but he wasn’t anywhere. You felt a buzz come from your phone and took it out of your pocket. You noticed that you had a text from your Mom, so you opened your phone but instead of texting her back you took a look at the note that was open. Tears filled your eyes and fell down your cheeks as you read it, absorbing each work slowly and carefully. Grayson was gone. He was at peace. And all he left besides a night of memories was a note. 

     Y/N, my darling, my soulmate, my everything, 

     Although we only met yesterday I could tell that we really are soulmates. I’m sorry that I have to go now but just know that I love you. You mean the world to me and I will always be with you, just call for me and I’ll be there. I promise. 

        Love, Grayson 

[kianraidelcam]

Written for @cownnor and their wonderful prompt. They also provided some assistance and helped me edit! Full fic under the cut as per the norm! And I present to you, Connor whump and Nines being a great little brother!

Connor just never knew when to fucking quit with the whole sacrificial gimmick he had going.

Detective Gavin Reed was confident that Terminator 1.0 could have easily taken on the four drug smugglers and walked away without a scratch, but of course he didn’t. Of course one of them pulled a gun on him and told Connor to freeze. And of course, Connor froze. It made sense; CyberLife didn’t design the asshole with a sense of self-preservation, making him some sort of self-sacrificing prick who didn’t fight back when he clearly could. Because, if they didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to integrate with any team and protect humans at all costs. Of fucking course.

They had been assigned an undercover case together, much to their respective partners’ and their own chagrin. Apparently, while Nines was designed more like a soldier, Connor was more like a spy, an infiltrator. And Lieutenant Drunkerson was too well known by all of the Red Ice rings for arrests he made years ago, while Gavin was still in the academy. And, naturally, Captain Fowler felt like fucking up all of their days. But, they all had to admit that Fowler’s logic was sound, and all parties involved agreed this new drug ring had to be taken down. There had been too many overdoses, shootings, abuse reports, and of course, the kidnapping and murder of quite a few androids.

So, Connor had thrown on his ridiculous beanie to hide the LED he refused to remove (for whatever reason) and Gavin tried to ignore the “if I see even one scratch on him, Reed” coming from Hank and Terminator 2.0, and they set out to the arranged meeting place. And it all went downhill from there.

The four had been cautious, but friendly, at first, until one of them recognized Connor’s face. One “wait, isn’t that the android from the TV, that robot hunter?” later, their ring leader had pulled a gun before either of them could react and jabbed it toward Gavin’s temple. “Freeze, you plastic prick! One move, and I blow his brains out,” Kingpin Wannabe snarled, his green eyes bloodshot and wild, “You fucking pigs, think you can get the drop on us.”

Connor spoke before Gavin could. Of fucking course he did, what with the fancy computer brain working far faster than he could ever hope to. “It’s just me, I was using him as a way in. He had no idea.”

The addict to Connor’s left yanked the beanie off of Connor’s head, revealing a mess of curls and a yellow LED spinning fast enough to make Gavin dizzy, while the one to his right slammed his foot into the back of Connor’s knee. Gavin was an asshole, but he wasn’t fucking stupid. Just like his punch that first morning in the precinct didn’t really bring the plastic detective to his knees, this collapse onto one knee was strategic, designed to prevent further violence. Gavin moved forward, trying to salvage this shitshow by playing along with HAL’s claim. He ignored he gun trailing his every move and backhands Connor across the face, allowing his expression to twist into something akin to rage.

Gavin has wanted to punch the Ken doll for a long time now.

He feels sick to his stomach as his hand stings from the force of the blow, Connor’s LED blinking red for a split second as his head snaps to the side. “You goddamn piece of plastic, thinking you can fucking use me like that!”

With a jolt, Gavin realizes he didn’t want to hit the plastic anymore. He wasn’t sure when he had decided that the robots were alive, but ever since watching Robo Jesus fucking sing in the face of certain death, he began to question his previous belief system. And now, nearly a year after the revolution, he wasn’t sure he could deny it any longer.

But of course he did, because acknowledging he was wrong left him open to a large number of emotions he wasn't quite ready to face.

“Prove it,” Wannabe spits, his gun never lowering.

“And how the fuck do you want me to do that?”

The yellow toothed smile Gavin receives in response sends chills down his spine. Whatever happened next, Gavin knew Nines and Hank were going to kill him.

Nines was breaking approximately 12 traffic laws, which is very much unbecoming of a new detective. Ranging from what would be a felony speeding ticket to reckless driving, he knew Captain Fowler would be displeased.

He didn’t give a flying fuck.

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^45}

He’d gotten the distress signal from Connor, telling him to move in now due to their cover being compromised. Reed’s followed exactly ten minutes and 14.8 seconds later, requesting technical assistance immediately. His brother hadn’t responded to Nines’ messages ever since. He should have been there ten minutes ago, when the first signal went out, and he was sitting stuck behind some rA9-forsaken ass who didn’t know to pull over for emergency sirens. Out of pure spite (Nines knew in the back of his mind that Lieutenant Anderson would be proud of these brand new emotions he was showing), he sends their license plate information along with a video file of them refusing to move aside to the precinct. They were going to get a ticket in the mail later, and it was more than deserved.

Nines finally, finally, gets past the driver, blasting the horn as he does, and it takes him another two minutes and 54.2 seconds to reach the scene, somehow the first on scene even though Fowler had promised backup would always be close by. He turns off the car cybernetically, updating Lieutenant Anderson as promised, as he rushes toward the building, his service pistol already freed from its holster. When he slams open the door to the warehouse, he is met with a sight he was not expecting.

That was a new one, feeling this sort of surprise. His processor was the most advanced ever created and his preconstruction software was more refined than even his counterpart’s. He prided himself on predicting events, using the software given to him to protect himself and the people around him. He files away the emotion to be reviewed later, a tip he received from Connor when he first deviated, and takes in the scene in front of him.

Four humans, all suspects in their drug ring case, his scan helpfully informs him, lay on the ground with their hands cuffed behind their backs. All have various minor injuries, although all are unconscious, caused by what Nines believes was blunt force trauma. The silver metal bat, lined with blood both red and blue, supports his theory. Detective Reed is in the middle of them, protectively crouched over a still figure, the bat laying discarded next to him. Nines runs a quick scan of his partner, relieved to find his only injury is a graze along his left arm and possible bruising to his right side. When he runs a diagnostic scan of the prone android, however, Nines could almost have sworn his thirium lines froze over.

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^50%}

{SCAN COMMENCING: TARGET SELECTED - RK800 - DESIGNATION: CONNOR}

{THIRIUM LEVELS: >78%}

{BIOCOMPONENTS #8456w, #8087q, #7511p, #1951r DAMAGED}

{CRANIAL TRAUMA DETECTED}

{CHEST TRAUMA DETECTED}

{SHUTDOWN IMMINENT: 18:19:09}

{END SCAN}

Before Detective Reed can process his arrival, Nines has already rushed over his brother and sent the diagnostic report to New Jericho’s technicians, catching the end of Gavin’s hushed murmurs. “I named her Snips, and Ellie absolutely hates her but she can fucking deal with it. She’s handling the amputation well, doesn’t slow her down one damn bit,” Gavin looks at Nines, “Don’t worry, Connor, Nines just got here. You gonna be okay, you fucking hear me?”

Nines finally looks down at Connor’s face, the red LED casting an eerie glow on the right side of his face. Both of his eyes are bloodshot with thirium, and it leaks from his mouth and nose as well, the cranial damage causing a major leak inside of his skull. Nines retracts the skin from his hand and interfaces with Connor, trying to ignore the way his glazed eyes stare beyond Nines’ face.

{CONNECTION ESTABISHED: RK800 - CONNOR}

{RK900: Don’t worry, Con, you’re gonna be just fine. I need you to communicate with me verbally to prevent the thirium from entering your ventilation biocomponents. Can you do that for me?}

{RK800: I can’t see, Nines.}

{RK900: I know, we’re going to get that fixed right now. I’m going to pick you up, okay, and then I need you to talk to me.}

While interfacing with Connor, he glares at Gavin, “Did you think I was bluffing with my threat earlier, Detective Reed?”

He notifies Lieutenant Anderson, instructing him to meet them at New Jericho while he sends a signal for technical assistance to stand down. Nines would handle this and they couldn’t afford to wait. Gavin uncharacteristically refuses to meet his glare, and his voice holds no venom when he responds. “S’not my fault the tin can refused to rat me out.”

“Did you arrest these men?”

Gavin snorts, finally looking up to match Nines’ cold, gray stare, “It’s not like Terminator was in any position to do it. They were going to kill Connor if I didn’t snatch the bat away,” he glances at the blue blood staining his hands, “Is he going to be alright? Why isn’t he fucking moving?”

Nines hooks an arm under Connor’s leg and back and picks him up, “His cranial processors are damaged, as is his thirium pump regulator. In human terms, he is experiencing major head trauma and his heart is damaged. I’m taking him to New Jericho for repairs, stay here and make sure they don’t escape,” Nines turns and begins to rush to his vehicle, already turning it on along with the sirens, “I want to have a word with them after I get back.”

Connor doesn’t react to the sudden jostling he receives, instead he maintains the interface despite his lagging processors. From it, he can feel his predecessor’s fear threatening to overwhelm him, the lack of control and his blindness finally getting to him. Nines gently lays him in the backseat, shrugging off his jacket to cushion Connor’s head and wipe some the blue blood away from his face while running another scan over his brother.

{SCAN COMMENCING: TARGET SELECTED - RK800 - DESIGNATION: CONNOR}

{THIRIUM LEVELS: >74%}

{BIOCOMPONENTS #8456w, #8087q, #7511p, #1951r DAMAGED}

{CRANIAL TRAUMA DETECTED}

{CHEST TRAUMA DETECTED}

{POTENTIAL FOR DAMAGE TO VENTILATION BIOCOMPONENTS ^30%}

{SHUTDOWN IMMINENT: 16:24:12}

{STRESS LEVELS ^62%}

{END SCAN}

Nines gently removes his hand from Connor’s arm, the skin flowing back over his hand as the interface ends. Connor groans and reaches blindly for his brother as Nines slides into the driver’s seat. “None of that now, Con. Remember what I said, talk to me.”

“I can’t see, Nines. I can’t see anything and my diagnostic system isn’t working.”

The RK900 is grateful that Connor can’t see him at the moment. If he could, he would have seen the flinch at the static lacing the RK800’s words. “I know, Con, I know. Don’t worry, I already know what’s wrong and we’ll be at New Jericho soon. Talk to me about something else, okay?”

“My sensors indicate you are driving at 20 miles above the speed limit.”

Despite himself, Nines smiles. “Shut up and let me save you the way I want to. Talk to me about something else. Who was Gavin talking about?”

“He was updating me on the status of a cat I saved from a group some time ago. He named her Snips since she required an amputation of her right hind leg.”

Nines smiles as Connor rambles on about the cat as he speeds to the repair center in the heart of New Jericho, pleased to note Connor’s lowering stress levels as he reminisces about the animal. Nines makes a mental note to meet this kitten as soon as possible, as a thank you to the creature for keeping his brother calm during this car ride. He pulls into the parking lot and is immediately met by Markus and a team of technicians waiting with a gurney. As they carry him out of his car and load him onto the gurney, Nines runs his hands through Connor’s hair in the way he knows his brother likes. “Don’t worry, Hank and I will be right out here waiting for you. Markus is going to make sure you’re okay during repairs.”

And like that, Nines is left alone in the parking lot, with nothing but the sound of cars passing on the highway for company.

His hands are shaking.

He did not know they could do that without him being aware of it.

After ten minutes, Hank finds him in the parking lot as he races in. The police lieutenant’s heart rate is elevated and he is sweating, both are indicative of high stress levels.

After 15 minutes, Nines has him fully updated on Connor’s last known condition, and he uses human terms instead of the mechanical terms because he knows Hank prefers it that way. His voice is monotone and his hands are still shaking. Hank’s eyes soften and he leads him instead to the waiting room, urging him to sit down before he “fucking falls down, you look like a stray breeze could knock you over.” He grabs a wet paper towel from the restroom to wash the blue blood from Nines hands.

After four hours, the thirium Hank missed has fully evaporated but Nines can still see it.

After six hours, Markus finally comes back to the waiting room and Nines is immediately on his feet, scanning the leader of New Jericho.

{SCAN COMMENCING: TARGET SELECTED - RK200 - DESIGNATION: MARKUS}

{STRESS LEVELS 15%}

{THIRIUM LEVELS 98%}

{ALL SYSTEMS OK}

{END SCAN}

Hank’s knees make an audible pop and he scrambles to his feet, his heart rate rising once again. “How is he, Markus?”

The deviant leader offers the pair a smile and raises his hands in a placating gesture, and Nines own stress levels drop ten percent. “He’s going to be just fine. We’ve already repaired the damage to his heart and all other biocomponents,” Markus’ smile falls, “Well, all except his optical units.”

“Wait, you mean you still haven’t fixed his eyes? Why the fuck not,” Hank’s voice is gruff, blue eyes shining in his sudden anger.

“Lieutenant Anderson, I’m sure you know about Connor’s prototype status. His systems are even more advanced than mine, behind only Nines,” Nines receives a nod, which he returns.

“And?” Hank challenges.

“And that means not all parts are going to be compatible with his model, Hank. Our optical units are different from any other android, Markus included. We take in a lot more information, and we see a lot more,” Nines voice is monotone once again.

I should have been faster.

“I’ve already updated Captain Fowler at the police department. We will have replacements soon, but he’s going to have to wait a week. I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do,” Markus’ tone is apologetic and Hank visibly deflates, all anger dissipating, “He’s still in stasis so his self-repairs systems can function at full capacity, but you can take him home now if you want.”

Nines agrees to let Hank drive Connor home, if only to give himself the time to calm down. Once Connor was fully recovered, he was in for quite the lecture, but for now, he had to focus on helping his older brother. As he takes in the scenery, decidedly not speeding this time, he devises a method to care for the RK800 and informs the Captain and his partner of his decision to take the week off.

When Nines returns home, he grabs Connor’s favorite mug and fills it with some thirium, sending Hank to bed with a promise to watch him as he recovers. He pulls up their desk chair, and settles in for the long night, counting down the seconds until Connor wakes up.

Connor is roused from stasis at 05:34:12, and his stress levels immediately jump to 15 percent when his foggy eyes open. Nines gently touches his arms, sending a request for an interface as his other hand musses Connor’s hair. The prototype detective latches on to the interface without a second’s hesitation, centering himself before he talks, “I can’t see.”

“So you’ve said multiple times,” Nines voice is cool but he sends a wave of reassurance through their connection, “New Jericho didn’t have any compatible units but we’ll replace them in a week. Markus promised.”

Connor frowns, his brows furrowing as he sits himself up, reaching out for the mug Nines guides into his hands, “I don’t like this.”

“I want to try something, once you’re feeling up to it. It might help.”

The older android tilts his head as he sips from the mug, “You know androids do not require recovery time following an injury. Once we are repaired, that’s it.”

“And you know I didn’t mean physically.”

Annoyance drifts through their connection from Connor’s side and Nines smirks as he deepens their connection. He gently guides Connor through his code and allows him access to his own visual feed, giving Connor the ability to see through his own eyes. The annoyance shifts to gratitude and Connor watches as a smile forms on his own face. “What did you do to my hair?”

Nines hopes Connor can see his eye roll as he replies, “We aren’t starting on that argument again.”

“Thank you, Nines,” his tone is soft, as is his smile, “Now go into stasis, your energy levels are a bit low, I can feel it.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“And I’m the older brother. From what Lieutenant Anderson has told me, that makes you my responsibility.”

Nines pulls away from the interface, blinking in sync with Connor as it fades away, “Alright, Connor. But please refrain from moving around without me and wake me if you require assistance.”

“Of course, Nines. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Nines doesn’t miss the double meaning behind Connor’s words.

{STRESS LEVELS 0%}

[zoyastormwitch]

when the world goes dark ; one-shot

author’s note ; so I got this anon months ago, and it inspired a lot of angst in me. the ask went as follows: “what if Rowan was still blood sworn to Maeve, and Maeve ordered him to hurt (whip) Aelin? Would their mate bond overpower Maeve’s blood oath? Or would the blood oath win? What do you think?” now, naturally, we can all presume that the mating bond would overpower in the sense that Rowan’s preservation of his mate would make his gd head explode if he had to bring harm to her. I don’t think this is how it would’ve gone. So, I skewed some technicalities and this is purely AU for some unadulterated, upsetting ANGST. You’re welcome. (TBH, I think this is some of my best writing.) So, I figured I’d publish this before KOA, because -- well, yeah. I think we’ll get plenty of canon angst in KOA. ENJOY, LOVELIES.

word count ; 3119

ao3 link ; here 

ship ; Rowaelin / ft Maeve

chapter rating ; M for violence

tags ; angst, angst, angst, AU, whipping, violence, angst, maeve being a raging bitch

tag list; guys i lost my general tagging list halp

“Begin.”

The word harbored such an unnatural sharpness, clanging throughout every cavern of his body. Maeve’s voice boomed past the thundering in his ears, amplified by the very bond that had him standing in that exact spot. It sent needles through his veins, eliciting a profound pain that continued to surpass itself with each second more. The single syllable was served not as a suggestion, but a command, and his blood itched with it.

Rowan Whitethorn thought he knew torment, but all other suffering quickly paled in comparison.

He felt feral to the furthest degree, his heart racing in a panic while his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt short of breath, couldn’t recall the dizziness that accompanied such a thing. Senses that were usually hyper-focused, alert with predatory instinct, were now dulled as if his immortality was nonexistent. He felt as if he had been submerged underwater, everything in him fogged and diluted. Magic still existed and he was powerful as ever, but this feeling was akin to —

He swallowed against the memory, his throat dry like ash and it made him strangle a cough. Was it raw emotion or the warring of his body’s will that caused such disruption in the most basic instincts?

The last time he’d felt this lost in his senses he had just reunited with Aelin. Aelin, who was then only his queen, his carranam, his friend. It was a pleasant loophole to being sent, through Maeve’s blood oath, to track down Lorcan. Finding her. Holding her. Loving her. Gods.

Aelin.

His queen. His carranam. His friend. His lover. His wife. His mate.

Mate.

Not Lyria, the female he loved centuries long. Lyria, who died pregnant with his child. She wasn’t his mate. His head reeled every which way, Rowan had suspected as much, knew in the darkest, most intimate corners of his heart, about Aelin. What she was — what they were to one another. He had pushed away the glimmer of possibility, shoving it deep away and refusing to acknowledge it. Even as his relationship with Aelin began to take physical and romantic turns, the prince did his damned best to convince himself it couldn’t be real. Two mates in one lifetime was more a myth than a reality, but that wasn’t even the case, was it? His entire past felt like a lie.

Certainly, his hesitation wasn’t simply because he harbored such certainty over Lyria’s place in his universe. No, it wasn’t that at all. It would have felt easy if it were. Sworn to Maeve, Rowan would never be able to stray far from the woman. Ultimately, she held a control over him that ran, it seemed, just as deep as the mating one he and Aelin had danced around. Maeve’s power and vindictiveness were a dangerous combination.

His mind was in overdrive, a splitting headache driving down his skull and through his spine. He gasped for air against it, shuddering with the sudden intake of breath.

Like an echo, Maeve’s voice pulsed in his brain: begin. She pushed against the oath with new fervor, his body feeling foreign. Like it wasn’t entirely his anymore. And it wasn’t.

It couldn’t be his.

Rowan’s fingers tightened around the object in his hand. He didn’t remember grabbing it. He wouldn’t. Of course not. It wasn’t him, not really. The blood oath, the fucking blood oath. He couldn’t resist the command any longer, everything in him shattering to pieces.

Begin, she commanded through their blood, and the word shot through his veins like poison, settling right down to the very fingertips that had curled around that whip and he couldn’t look at her, his Fireheart, golden and broken, when the leather cut through wind and air on its way to skin, the weapon whistling threateningly. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t find her figure against chaos, couldn’t bring himself to take in the sight of blood rising across her back, heavy ruby pearls marking the line of the whip, his whip, in his hand, before pooling and spreading and his whole body was numb and he was going to be ill, felt the sick rise in his throat, and a woman’s voice, his mistress’s voice, chilled the air with words he didn’t hear so much as felt as his fingers tightened of their own accord —

“What number was that, Aelin?”

Rowan vomited into the marked silence.

The entire, empty contents of his stomach came up in one quick instant, acidic bile scraping like needles against his throat. His skin burned and prickled as he continued dry heaving. He bent at the waist then lower as his knees buckled and all he could do was prop himself up with a hand and elbow to keep from collapsing entirely. When he finally straightened, the action foreign and feeling rather against his will, it was on shaky legs and with trembling hands.

All pieces of himself — body, mind, and soul — warred inwardly. The mating bond fought against Maeve’s blood oath. It was a strong string branching from his heart and stretching deeper yet. The intricate make-up of his very being ached as his mate endured a pain that ran beyond the physical as it managed also to reopen wounds and scars within her mind. His soul threatened to break to know he was the one causing it all. And he’d rather that, to break down. To cease to exist.

But Rowan couldn’t.

His vision was hazy but not enough so that he missed the penetrating stare of his mate as she twisted within her limited range of motion to see him; golden-rimmed eyes of turquoise were unblinking as she willed him to look at her. And when he did, what he saw nearly broke him completely.

x

Aelin took deep, slow breaths. She was no stranger to the sensation of braided leather whipping flesh. Certainly, the pain couldn’t be forgotten — no matter how much time had passed. It was a wound that struck her deep, marring her for the rest of her days. Still, nothing could have prepared her for this. The ache went beyond the slices across her bare back and struck heavy in the very heart that thumped a wild tattoo against her ribcage.

Still, the only sound she elicited were her breaths. Deep, decided breaths that she used to try and ground herself against the dizzying pain and sorrow. Even as Maeve’s voice cut through the ringing in her ears and the throbbing in her skull, she refused to speak. Refused, even, to look at the woman with death dark hair.

Instead, Aelin leveled her gaze at Rowan the best she could as she twined her neck to catch sight of him. Her King, her husband, her carranam and lover and friend and — gods.

The Fae warrior was far from it as he shook and dry heaved and fought within himself. His pains were palpable through the mating bond. Still new, the strength of it was yet to be fully uncovered. Perhaps, though, it was for the best that the bond was so new, a fawn wobbling on legs brand new to earth; for if this were what she could feel so soon after its birth, what would it have been like if the bond had been accepted and locked earlier?

One look at Rowan and Aelin knew she didn’t want to know the answer to her thought.

She’d never seen him like this. It wasn’t even a weakness so much as a complete breakdown of his systems. His beautiful, sharp face was contorted in despair as his body cringed in physical pain. She saw the sweat beading across his skin, creating a dull sheen across planes of muscle and causing his tunic to stick to his body, damp with moisture. His face was pallid and his hair was plastered across his forehead, pinned to the nape of his neck. He looked ill.

Aelin willed him to look at her.

He did.

“Start over, Rowan,” Maeve said.

His eyes didn’t have time to leave hers before the oath viciously snapped his body into motion and his arm wound back releasing the crack and the pain and Aelin arched against the sensation, head snapping to face front again. Her jerking motion was enough that the two males bracing her on either side tightened their grips on her arms. She considered how much it would bruise, their hands, and immediately chastised herself at how stupid a thought that was to be having as her back bled beads of crimson. But it was easier to think about the brutish men and their heavy hands than her beautiful male shaking and heaving behind her; she’d grant herself that permission, that weakness.

A waiting silence fell between them, but Aelin couldn’t bring herself to count the marks.

She focused instead on sounds, tried to pick them out as best she could from the ringing in her ears. She heard wind and waves but they felt distant, not of this world; there was the rustling of fabric as bodies shifted and was that a clanking of metal, of chains? Aelin heard her own heartbeat pounding loudly, perhaps the clearest sound of all. It was so loud she thought for certain everyone surrounding her could feel it in their own chests. It overpowered everything, and Aelin blinked to try and clear her mind. To ground herself. She was stronger than this. She could pace herself from the pain but it cut deeper than the physical and she thought her heart would break and she tried, she tried, she tried to focus. Still, she could hardly hear Elide’s sobs from somewhere in the distance, a mumbled cry of “oh gods” over, and over, and over again and she couldn’t hear Maeve’s command to start over and she couldn’t pick up Rowan’s strangled choke because all she could hear was the rampant thump - thump - thump of her heart, over and over and over and —

A crack. A scream — no, two. Overlapping cries of pain, tugging her quickly back into the reality set before her. Aelin’s knees buckled beneath her and she hung limp from the hands of the males holding her. She couldn’t tell where her cries ended and Rowan’s began as he wailed with a ferocity that served to remind how feral creatures the Fae could be. Her throat was hoarse and she tasted the metallic iron of her blood in her mouth from where she clamped down on her cheek in a brief and futile effort to remain silent.

She heard the dull thump of the whip hitting earth followed then by a louder sound that could only be Rowan falling to his knees.

“I knew you were holding back, Rowan. Much better.”

Aelin didn’t need to view her face to imagine the sickly sweet smile on the woman’s face, but when Maeve stepped in front of her, her suspicions were confirmed. Her vision was blurry, but she lifted her chin defiantly and raised her eyes.

“And you, niece,” Maeve began in a sugary coo. “Are you still so sure you don’t want to tell me what number that was?”

Aelin spat at her feet in response.

“Not very polite, are you? Good thing we’ll have plenty of time, you and I, to learn manners befitting a princess.”

“Queen.”

His voice was rasped, broken. Aelin could hear the struggle in the short syllable. She couldn’t be sure how the mating bond and blood oath warred within Rowan’s body and soul, but the effect they had was wrecking him. That much was certain.

“What was that, Rowan?” Maeve sneered.

“A — queen,” he panted, slightly stronger this time. Aelin twisted her head as much as she could and managed to just barely take in his figure as he knelt. It was a decided action, no longer slumped forward in anguish. No, he knelt before her now in an act of defiance against Maeve. It worried Aelin that she allowed it of her commanded, wondering what retaliation would be served.

x

“My Queen,” Rowan said, stronger still.

His eyes were on Aelin, only Aelin, her form regaining some tiny semblance of strength in lieu of the whipping. His own chest began to ease moderately, though it worried him to feel a slackening of Maeve’s otherwise tight leash on his will. His breath began to steady again and he took the opportunity to rise, slowly. He found himself briefly thankful for his controller’s tendency to play with her food, to toy with and enjoy the things before breaking them for no reason other than she could. It was a thin line, he knew, but if it could just grant him time to think …

“Isn’t that just precious,” Maeve tittered. “Have you forgotten your loyalties so easily, my dear?” Rowan said nothing. “Come closer and speak, Rowan.”

“No,” he shuddered once his legs brought him forward. He stood in Aelin’s line of sight. It was the truth regarding his loyalties, of course. Maeve certainly had demonstrated where his loyalties were locked. Throughout it all, he was unable to forget them.

“Consider this my wedding gift to you,” she said after a pause, once more adopting that sickly sweet tone, “and don’t move.”

He didn’t, though his brows furrowed in slight confusion and he saw Aelin shift from the holds of the two large Fae males keeping her in place.

“Lorcan,” Maeve beckoned, the male moving forward from his space nearby. “Continue where we left off.”

And the male did. Again, and again, and again. Still, Aelin refused to count. Rowan found himself faced with a new kind of torture, the nightmares rolling into real life each as bad or worse than the one before. Where the blood oath previously kept him causing hurt to his mate, it now held him rooted to the spot and utterly helpless. He didn’t need to watch her to feel the pain, its transference shooting down the bond they shared. Beads of sweat rolled down his face and back in a mocking mimicry of Aelin’s blood drip-dripping into the earth.

Please, he begged silently willing his wife to hear. But what he begged for he couldn’t be sure. For her to do as Maeve wished? For her to forgive him of both his action and inaction? For it all to end, then and there, the torture too much to handle? Pleasepleaseplease —

“Majesty, it might be prudent to postpone until later.” The words came from the smaller of the males holding Aelin, and Maeve’s attention turned from a panting Rowan (oh, how she enjoyed watching his pain) to the source of the voice. “Others are approaching,” he explained.

Maeve considered, and Rowan felt his heart speeding up. If he could just buy them time —

“Very well. Get her ready.”

Aelin’s eyes, bloodshot and silvered with tears and pain, reached Rowan’s in a panic. Neither had time to feel thankful as Lorcan dropped the whip, because soon it became clear what new torture was being set forward.

“I love you,” she breathed.

An iron box and chains.

“To whatever end,” she finished.

A mask.

Rowan struggled against the blood oath but it was fruitless. Maeve’s hold was too much, ran too deep — even as her attention was divided. Because soon the elaborate iron mask was in his commander’s hands and she was strapping it to Aelin’s face and whispering something not even his Fae hearing could pick up.

Maeve allowed the finishing touches to be accomplished by the other males, giving her the chance to return to Rowan’s side. She didn’t release him, kept him glued to the spot and silent. The iron chains clamping around his mate’s wrists and ankles clanged through his own body and for the second time that hour he felt the strong urge to empty his stomach. Bile itched up his throat and he swallowed it down. Silver lined his eyes, vision blurred from tears and pain alike.

“You could have had so much honor, Rowan.”

Her words were said aloud but he felt them in his body, too, as she seemed to amplify her thoughts and whims through their blood oath. It created a sickly sensation throughout his entire body, down to the very fibers of his nerves which prickled, torn, dizzying, between blood and soul. He was shaking in place, his heart throbbing wildly in his chest as he stood powerless, spent of any ability or free will and able only to watch his wife and his carranam, his mate and his queen be locked, now, into an iron box. His throat was on fire.

“Take her away,” she ordered briefly, a lilt to her tongue, the command said as casually as the weather. The males snapped into action. “Speak, Rowan,” she said, now, to him, twisting to look at him. Her face was alight with pleasure and amusement.

“Please,” he rasped, and then his body fell forward with the release of her command to keep him still. He vomited into the sand, limbs shaking as he tried to move forward, to run forward, but his body was stuck in a fit of betrayal. “Please,” he choked again.

“The thing is, you could have had so much honor. Oh, but you severed that ages ago with a fickle sense of loyalty. This was nothing more than a little bit of discipline, Prince,” she said with a cool calm that one might use to a child crying over a lost toy. His knees threatened to buckle but his body resisted, pulled up and taut by Maeve’s control. His brain reached in earnest for the thread that tied him to Aelin, trying anything. Anything. But their tether was fragile, as if the iron dulled her to him. His stomach retched in a dry heave again

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius watched, helpless, as Maeve retreated with a smile that made him want to rip her face off bit by bit, starting with those cruel and sadistic lips. Her back never turned on him as she approached her henchmen and Lorcan. Her pace never sped up, unlike his heart which threatened to stop from sheer force.

And while she was well outside his reach by the time her words floated to him, they were loud in clear through his mind.

“I strip you of the blood oath, released with dishonor, shame, and pity,” but there was amusement in her voice and one last echo in his ear before he fell to his knees of his own free will: “Let the games begin.”

And Rowan released a scream that might have shattered kingdoms before his world went dark.

[hopeishappinessff]

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 53.2

Chris

“It’s that pretty brown round, driving me wild… ooh bitch ya pussy’s ‘bout to get a little greasier. That KY make penetratin’ so much easier…”

I bobbed my head to the music and smirked as I conjured up a freaky little text to send Hope… I was so fucking horny. It was also a struggle for me to keep my eyes open or to even sit up straight for that matter. I wasn’t even tired… but I was all the fucking way gone. Hope had responded back to me over an hour ago, but at that point everything was such a damn blur I couldn’t even see my phone screen straight. I think she may have sent me a picture of her titties, but thanks to the kush in my system I was too paranoid to attempt to take a closer look and risk the boys noticing. I would not hesitate to fight my own homeboy if they saw a naked picture of her on my phone… or anywhere in life for that matter.

The music thumped with even more bass than the club, which gave the girls plenty to shake their asses to. Asses… and titties… and thighs, oh my. I didn’t think Virginia was capable of creating strippers this beautifully crafted. I wasn’t about to risk looking at any of them for too long, but a quick peep here and there couldn’t be much harm.

The boys were all hype around me, even BJ and Kendrick because the music was just that lit… and they were clearly just as gone as me. These niggas were actually standing not too far from me, moving their hands animatedly as they rapped along like they were featured on the damn song.

Dontay was sitting to the left of me, not so subtly making out with one of Rose’s friends. Ashley was her name… maybe. And Rashad was on the couch to the right with the other girl, who’s name I couldn’t remember even if I tried, cuddled up in his lap, whispering in his ear. He was sitting there giggling like a little bitch and I laughed and shook my head as I watched from the corner of my eye. I wondered for a moment where Rose went… with her fine ass. I quickly shook my head, much too quick for my level of intoxication, and squeezed my eyes shut to rid myself of the image of this girl. Even the thought of her being attractive crossing my mind felt like I was cheating, so I needed to get it together before I made myself feel even more guilty.

Parting my lids to look straight ahead, I cursed myself for instantly locking eyes with her. Perhaps if I wasn’t thinking about her in the first place, she would have never appeared… with two shot glasses in her hands, and a smile on her face.

“Take a shot with me?” She half asked, half stated as she stopped about a foot away from me. She projected one of the glasses out directly in my face, but I frowned and sat up a bit straighter, hopefully alerting her of my disinterest in stepping into the realm of alcohol poisoning by drinking anymore liquor.

“Nah, I’m good.” I said… or slurred.

“Please. Just one… before you go.” She had the audacity to pout and look almost sad, not like I cared… she could outright cry in my face and I still wouldn’t care, but this was indeed a whole free shot.

I eyed her left hand for a while, the hand that was sticking straight out in my face with this tempting shot, then I sighed with defeat and struggled to get my own hand and my vision to work together to take it from her grasp. She giggled at the sight of my drunk ass trying to accomplish the most simple task and I guess she decided to make it easier for me by taking a step forward… and turning to plop her ass down right in my lap. I wasn’t exactly sure how to react to that… or to the fact that she turned her body to face me, obviously making herself more comfortable, and raised the shot glass to my lips. I stared dead in this girl’s eyes as I parted my lips, tilted my head back, and swallowed down the shot. First of all, a red flag should have gone up in my mind when this damn shot of liquid fire slithered down my throat like water… and second, three more red flags should have gone up as soon as homegirl took a seat on me.

I should have pushed her off me as soon as she sat down… should have pushed her smooth on the floor. But, it’s as if I was stuck in a trance and absolutely unable to move a muscle as she sat there slowly licking her lips after she’d downed her shot.

“Now… that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She asked with a smile. I shook my head like a dumbstruck little boy and heaved a deep sigh. I hadn’t quite noticed how well-endowed she was on the lower half until she shifted again in my lap. I also hadn’t noticed that I was staring at her wide hips that spread with the weight of her sitting on me… nor did I notice just how slouched I was to give her the perfect angle to sit directly on my crotch.

“I fucking love this song!’ She blurted randomly. Snatching my thirsty, blurred stare from her fat ass I tuned in to the sound of Rick Ross’s Peace Sign and I think perhaps my heart dropped. Whether from the memory of this very same song playing in Magic City the time I took Hope and a fine ass stripper by the name of Lola Devine devoured her pussy like it was her last meal, or from the reality that Rose was now rotating her hips in my lap to the deep bass of the song… my heart was officially in my ass.

“Have you heard this song before?” She asked, peeping over her shoulder to look back at me with a not so innocent smirk on her full lips.

“Yeah.” I muttered, nodding quickly with my eyes focused back on her ass. She giggled and turned to face forward, placing her heels firmly on the floor. Her hands found my knees and she used them to brace herself as she began a slow wine on me and before I knew it, my bottom lip went flying in my mouth and an inaudible ‘shit’ went flying out.

It was like magic the way her ass and hips caught every single beat in the song… she certainly had me hypnotized with her act. Pushing herself up a bit, I paid close attention to the way she hiked her booty up and made it clap right over my dick… which was now obviously very awake. I cursed myself in my mind, shutting my eyes briefly with hopes that it would just fucking go away if I conjured up a quick image of Hope at home, in bed, pregnant, with my child.

But the image unfortunately didn’t materialize quick enough for me to come to my senses… this damn girl had already turned the fuck around and straddled me and my now hard dick.

“Lay me on my back, got my legs wide open like a peace sign.” She leaned forward and sang the chorus softly in my ear, sending chills through my body as she reconnected with my crotch. Did she even have on panties? God I prayed she did… I could not go home with a big wet stain on the front of my damn pants! I was confident that she was doing a great job of turning herself on, or I was turning her on, or fuck… was that her damn tongue on my neck!

“Rose, chill.” I mumbled feebly, too weak for her to even hear… or too weak for her to take me serious.

“What happens in this club tonight, doesn’t have to make it home to your girl,” She whispered with her lips pressed gently against my ear, “I’ll make sure she never finds out.”

She caught my earlobe and the entire diamond stud in it in her mouth and suckled then let it go and pressed her lips against it.

“Rose…” “Nigga!” I could hear the voice of a man somewhere in front of me, but Rose was practically full on riding me at this point so I couldn’t see anything past her.

She sat up suddenly with her hands still pressed against my shoulders. How the fuck did I even get this slouched in this damn chair? I caught the tail end of her wink before her playful smirk fell into a frown and she glanced back over her shoulder. Reluctantly, and I mean with extreme reluctance, she lifted herself off me with a roll of her eyes. She wasn’t all that quick to adjust her dress, especially in the front… where only I could just barely make out her bald pussy. She really wasn’t wearing any panties! Fuck… I was terrified to look down at my pants.

“Bruh, what the fuck?” It was Kendrick who’d come along to save the day and I came pretty close to standing up and embracing him in a hug. Instead, he pulled me up to my feet and I quickly latched a hand onto the arm of the small couch to balance myself.

“You good dawg?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Bruh,” I shook my head slowly and stared up at the dark ceiling, “Please don’t take this the wrong way… I need you to look at the front of my pants…”

He was silent for a while… like a long ass while and with my head still tilted up, I cut my eyes at him and he burst into laughter. I mean this guy doubled over and held onto my arm, he was laughing that hard.

“Shit man… wooooo I didn’t realize yo ass was this funny,” He said after about two full minutes of laughter, “I peeped your shit when ole girl stood up. You good… you got a lil bit of an issue that you may need to handle before you get home and Sy and wonders why the fuck you just excited and shit, but you good though. She ain’t have no draws on, huh?”

I shook my head and sighed “I can’t even believe that just happened.”

“Believe it homie,” He chuckled, slapping a hand down on my shoulder, “That girl been eyeing you all night long. And I had some fucking bubble butt ass stripper come for me… that’s why it took me so long to come save you!”

I laughed and shook my head yet again “I think it’s time to head home man.”

He agreed before I could finish the sentence and turned in the opposite direction of Rose and her friend, who’d huddled together not too far from where the third friend, Ashley I believe, sat in Dontay’s lap with her face wedged in the crook of his neck. Rashad kept a close eye on the other friend who stood with Rose, like one of us was gonna take the girl from him… I shook my head at the thought. Nobody wanted any of these females… at all.

“Aye dawg, will you let Don’s twisted ass know we heading out?” BJ chuckled, leaning in close to speak to Rashad over the blare of the music. I didn’t bother to stick around to wait for a response. Kendrick and I both quietly made our way out of the section and we just about made it to the door before I heard BJ calling out to us from behind. There was no way I was gonna risk turning around to catch eyes with that girl again… BJ was just gonna have to hurry his ass up before he got left.

Thankfully Kendrick chose to drive his car this evening… or morning, and that made it much easier for us to hightail it out of there without having to wait for Dontay and Rashad. Rose seriously had my ass spooked at this point, so I was prepared to walk home if I had to just to get away from her. Sure the girl was drop dead gorgeous, had a body that could kill, and smelled like heaven… but she wasn’t my cup of tea. I’d gotten a good taste of that life back in Georgia and thanks to my careless ways, I almost cost myself the love of my life… and my life.

It became quite a task to not throw up with the way everything was spinning all around me. The car even seemed to be going much faster than it was, or maybe Kendrick really was speeding because he was pretty fucked up himself. Whatever the case… I shut my eyes for most of the ride and even then I had to will myself not to puke.

Somehow I ended up passed out by the time we pulled up to the house and I just about slept right through the feeling of one of the boys shaking the shit out of my arm. “Breezy, nigga! Get your ass up bro!” I couldn’t tell which one of them it was, but I really needed him to shut the fuck up. With a miserable groan, I opened my eyes into the tiniest slits and stared into thick darkness. Was it possible that I’d drank so much that I lost my eyesight?

“What the fuck.” I muttered, feeling an odd sensation rub against my lips as I spoke. I could feel my cheek pressed against something as well… where the hell was I?

“Man, maybe we should just leave him here. At least we know he’s safe… but I need to go lay my ass down.” Another voice from behind me. Why weren’t these voices explaining to me where I was?

“Nah, ‘cause if Mama or Auntie see him out here in the morning… we all gettin’ cussed out!” Somebody smacked their lips with obvious irritation and I felt a hard hit followed by throbbing pain to the back of my right leg. With a frown, I moved my head back a bit further and shifted to my right, then I suddenly felt like I was falling for all of one second… then my entire right side throbbed.

“Shit!” I exclaimed. Whoever was standing near me burst out laughing and I struggled, really struggled, to lift my head and look back. Through a blurry haze I made out the shapes of what looked like Kendrick hunched over laughing and BJ leaned up against the side of the car laughing just as hard. The car… if BJ was leaning against the side of the car, that meant I must have been somewhere inside it.

Turning my head again, I realized that I was still in the car… and that I’d just rolled onto the floor from the back seat. I would have laughed at my own self, had my big ass not been wedged so tight between the back seat and the front.

“Niggas… help me…” I struggled to breathe as I waited for them to calm down with all the laughter and grab ahold of my legs so they could literally yank me out of the car. And they did just that… until I ended up face first on the ground, halfway in the grass and halfway on the driveway. I laid there cracking the hell up at myself, eventually managing to roll over and spot Kendrick laid out on the ground right beside me laughing himself to tears and BJ leaned over the back of the trunk hollering.

“Yoooo, we need to get the fuck in the house before the neighbors come out here. We look like we trynna rob this car right now, but we was too stupid to finish the job!” BJ snorted.

“Aww shit, get up dawg… get up!” Kendrick exclaimed, struggling to make his way onto his own feet. There was no way I was gonna be able to do that… no way at all. So I laid there and continued to laugh until him and BJ came along and collected me from the ground… and man was it a struggle. I think we fell about three more times, all because their drunk asses were trying to keep my drunk ass up. By the grace of God we made it up the steps of the porch and they propped me against the paneled wall beside the door until they could figure out how to get in the house.

“Fuck bro, we ain’t got no key!” BJ whispered harshly.

“I do.” I whispered back. “Nigga why you whispering?” Kendrick asked.

“He fuckin’ whispered.” I slurred.

“Gimme the key, foolish ass.” BJ laughed. My squinted eyes darted to the front left pocket of my pants and I smirked as I slowly looked up at Kendrick.

“Man dawg,” He smacked his lips and shook his head reluctantly, “Why we keep being so damn intimate tonight?”

The way he said that shit, was fucking hilarious… so I cackled like a hyena and leaned back from the wall, only managing to miss the ground when BJ flew forward and caught me by my shoulders. He barely kept me up as he shook from his own laughter and Kendrick chuckled right along with us as he turned his head and reached into my pocket.

Again, only by the grace of God did we somehow find our way not only through both the screen door and the large oak door, but upstairs and into the hallway right outside of Hope’s room too. How we managed to get up the stairs without breaking our necks was all a blur, but with my persistence to be by Hope’s side we all put in some serious team work to make it happen.

Kendrick pushed the door open and I stumbled my way in, bumping into the dresser closest to the door with a thud.

“Chill out man!” BJ whispered.

“Shut your ass up!” I whispered back harshly and in a slur, “Who the fuck is that?”

They both turned their attention to Hope’s bed and we all stared on quietly at the sight of two bodies sprawled out in the bed, one obviously belonging to Hope.

“It’s gotta be one of the girls.” It was BJ who took off first toward the bed and Kendrick who stayed behind to keep me propped safely against the dresser.

“It’s Dez.” He whispered from the other side of the room where he stood near the bed, peering down at her like a creep.

“You look like a fucking murderer bro.” Kendrick whispered, which started a chain reaction of laughter. What none of us were expecting, however, was for her crazy ass to actually wake up…

“BJ… the fuck you doing standing over me like that? Nigga, if you don’t move!” She half yelled, swinging an arm out from beneath the blanket she had tossed halfway over her head.

He quickly flinched back away from her, narrowly avoiding her flailing arm “Whoa girl, chill.” “Chill my ass! Why the fuck are you even in here… at four in the morning?” She was entirely too alert now and for two seconds, I almost regretted coming in here in the first place.

“This nigga insisted that we bring his ass up here.” He said, tossing an incrementing finger in my direction.

Destani, being the drama queen that she was, sat all the way up in the bed now and decided to go the indiscreet route by snatching on the bedside lamp to her left.

“Chris… Kendrick… what the fuck?” She glared across the room at us, arms crossed over her chest like an angry black mother seconds away from scolding her children.

“Look man, can you either make space for him between ya’ll or come all the way up out the bed so homeboy can lay down? He fucking heavy as shit!” Kendrick exclaimed. I chuckled because I hadn’t even realized that I’d leaned back away from the dresser and put just about all my weight against him.

“Destani…” Though I could barely see straight enough to make out her face, that beautifully gentle voice would never fail to command my attention, “What’s going on?”

“Your extremely intoxicated ass boyfriend and his obnoxious friends just got back. This block headed nigga had his babysitters bring him up here to you.” She fussed. Now her voice on the other hand annoyed me and left me frowning and glaring right back at her. “Shut the fuck up Dez.” I mumbled.

“No you shut the fuck up nigga. Nobody told you dumbasses to come bombarding your way in here making all this noise at fucking four in the morning. Why are ya’ll even getting back this late anyway?” Her voice continued to piss me off, but I was thankful that she was finally climbing her ass out of my spot in the bed.

“Don’t fucking worry about it…” Using the side of the dresser to tug myself off of Kendrick, I stood up straight and lingered there for a moment until I could figure out how to keep myself balanced so I could make my way over to the bed.

“Did you guys really just get back?” I heard Hope ask. I think she was sitting up in the bed now as well, but I couldn’t risk even peeping through my peripheral… that would surely through me off balance and I would quickly end up face down on the floor. Eventually Kendrick came to my aide, both responding to Hope and getting me over to the bed. He may not have thought I noticed the little nudge he gave me when I was within range to land on the bed, but I did… his ass pushed me. But whatever, this bed felt like sex.

“This guy is gonna need to sleep this off for like three days.” BJ chuckled.

“Get the fuck out BJ.” I muttered, face halfway wedged into the softest damn comforter I’d ever felt in life. He laughed louder then, as did Kendrick from the other side of the room, but he took heed to my drunken words and made his way over to the door.

“Thank you boys for getting him home safely. Are Dontay and Rashad downstairs?” Hope asked.

“Nah, them hoes still out.” Kendrick laughed.

“Hmph, well let me go lock the deadbolt so they can’t get in here,” Destani mumbled, swiftly brushing past them, “And when I get back up here, ya’ll better not be in that guest room.”

“Ain’t nobody going in there girl.” Kendrick yelled out after her. They both trailed out into the hall behind her, shutting the door behind themselves.

I could feel sleep creeping up on me like a thief in the night and I sure did welcome it with open arms. Even with my eyes closed I could still feel the room swirling all around me, but in the battle between sleep and nausea… sleep was quickly winning.

“Charlie?”

My head was turned toward the large window on the other side of the room and I simply didn’t have it in me to lift it and face her. Hell, I barely had it in me to respond.

“Hmm?”

“Did you have a good night?” There was a smile in her voice, that I could tell. The thought of it resting on her perfect lips made me smile… but I still couldn’t bring myself to face her.

“Mmhm…”

She giggled and I suddenly felt my hat disappear from the top of my head. The last thing I remember was the feeling of her leaning over me to shut off the light to my right. Then I felt her silky smooth lips against my temple…

“Goodnight Charlie.”