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soulwillower · 4 years

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almost stupid • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: requested by @demo-wise :)

Hello, my darling. I was wondering if I could request a Richie Tozer x Reader fic from you? Taking place in their college years, so sometime in the 90s? One where the reader and Richie go to a party, and though typically it’d be Richie that gets drunk, this time it ends up being reader, so Richie makes it a point to stay relatively sober during the party so he can keep an eye on you ans make sure you don’t get hurt. Then after a while - maybe the party ends, maybe they have a set curfew, or maybe something happened at the party, you choose - they head home, and since reader is too wasted to find the keys for her (off-campus) apartment - for argument’s sake, let’s say they both live separately, off-campus - so Richie lets her stay with him, and she’s a really sweet and afectionate drunk, and she ends up confessing her feelings towards him, and then is promptly out like a light. Then I guess the next morning he’d tell her about it, since there doesn’t seem to be a logical way to integrate it into one night. Hopefully this isn’t too confusing with how invovled it is, just exercising my enjoyment of the no word limit on asks. Thank you, love, and have a lovely day.

i love u, hope u enjoy!!

warnings: binge drinking, getting sick/vomiting, party, fluff

(losers + reader are in college.)

3.5k words

♡

you hadn't meant to let go of yourself this much.

music thuds around you as you move, your eyes catching patterns of plaid as a boy with a red flannel steadies you, "woah there, are you okay?" he asks, and you blink a bit, laughing. "yeah, i'm just l-lovely, how are you?" you say, slurring and hiccuping slightly. the boy laughs, and his smile makes you giggle more. "i'm fine. what's your name? did you come here alone?"

"y/n. i'm... 'm here with richie." you say, stumbling over your feet and raising your eyebrows as the boy nods. "tozier? okay. wait one second." and then you're topping off the cup of vodka sprite in your hands and hiccuping as the boy in front of you cups his hands, calling a loud, "TOZIER!"

as if he's a dog, richie comes bounding over with a toothy grin, "what's going on over here, chums?" he says easily, and as he moves all you can do is watch him in awe.

his raw power, as odd and shaky as it is, is ever so prevalent right now - he has a way of pulling people to him. his lips are red and freckled, his adam's apple bobbing slightly when he speaks. your neck nearly hurts from craning to look up at him and you start to giggle to yourself as you watch him.

that noise seems to call richie's attention down towards you. his smile grows exponentially, his eyebrows raising as he takes you in. you know your cheeks are red. "hey, kiddo, how're you feeling?" he says, gentler this time, his hand absently raising to rub your shoulder before falling back down to his side.

you can't help yourself as you lean into the touch just as it's gone, and richie notices with an amused grin. you smile a bit, "oh, i'm feeling great! me n' my friend, oh, what's your-" as you turn to regard the boy who'd helped you, you find yourself gesturing to the empty wall instead. you whip your head back and forth in confusion, wondering where he'd gone. "oh. he's gone." you say, feeling embarrassed as richie huffs to himself.

"how are you feeling, richie? why aren'you playing king’s cup right now?" you ask, stumbling through your words as you gesture to the crowd of people cheering as a girl pulls an ace from a deck of cards. richie chuckles, shifting on his feet so he's leaning back against the wall, watching you with eyes full of joy and amusement.

"someone's gotta take care of you, sugar. we can't go dumb and dumber tonight, i gotta get you home safe."

you turn red, guilt crowding you as you realize you're probably prohibiting richie from letting loose and having fun. "oh, 'm sorry." you whisper, looking into the suddenly unappetizing contents of your cup. you set it down on the chair next to you and it wobbles, but you turn back to face richie.

he's smiling, eyes running over you. "why're you sorry?" he asks, sounding like he's much more amused than you right now. "i'd do anything for you, kid. and it's one night, i think i can handle being the adult. you do this for me like every week." he insists, his eyes soft as he bites his lip. you lean into him, close enough that his warm chest is close to yours. “you’re too good to me, chee.” you whisper, smiling. you place your hands on his arms because you just want to be touching him, and you smile.

he smiles back, rolling his eyes. “don’t think you don’t deserve it, sweet girl.” he says with a slight shake of his head. you scold yourself even in your hazy drunken mind as you feel yourself yearning to lean closer and kiss him.

instead of that, you just giggle, watching richie speak as he leans over the chair to grab your drink, knowing it'll probably spill if he leaves it. he has to lean around you to reach, and you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle up, leaning backwards with his body. you can feel him chuckle as he steadies you. his eyes hold yours, and you open your mouth to tell him just how amazing he looks when you’re pulled away from him by a voice.

you hear your name called and you perk up as your friend from one of your lectures waves to you. you jump on your heels as you place a hand on richie's chest, not really thinking about it, "i have to go see them!" you insist, and your heart thumps as you feel richie's large, warm hand on top of yours, sandwiched between his chest and hand. "i'll be here, go have fun." he insists. you turn to him, a sudden surge of confidence and affection induced by the bacardi and vodka coursing through your veins. up on your toes, you kiss his cheek and pat the other with your hand softly, face red as you realize how close his face is to yours; you mutter, "i'll be right' back. promise."

richie laughs lightly as you make your way towards them, his face red.

it was an hour and a half before you realized you were really, really fucked up. your vision felt like it was lagging, your eyes droop, your voice feels raw when you speak. and all that's on your mind is richierichierichierichie.

you're in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror with awe when you realize that the only reason you're having fun tonight is because of him. he's usually the one to get really blasted - it was your dynamic, and you liked it that way. he’s the funniest person ever when he's drunk, and tooling him around your university to walk back to his apartment was always more fun than it should be. in your head, you know it's because you're in love with him.

you pull a face at yourself in the mirror as you think about that, knowing damn well that that secret has been vaulted up for months ever since you figured it out. but you're just so goddamn happy right now, letting richie know that he's loved doesn't seem all that bad. he deserves to know, really.

a knock on the door makes you jump and you finish drying your hands, wiping your eye as you hear his muffled voice, "you coming out anytime soon, y/n/n?"

you roll your eyes with a huge smile, feeling giddy to know richie was on the other side of that door, taking care of you. you pull the door open and he stumbles a bit, having lost the spot he was slightly leaning on. you're standing close to him, his face lower than usual after stumbling, and you grin as you look at each other.

you can see the spare eyelash on his cheek, the light freckles hiding under his glasses as his curs fall perfectly around his face. "hi." you say quietly, giggling to yourself.

he backs away with a grin of his own, shaking his head at you. "hey, doll. you ready to head home? gotta get you some rest."

you comply, because there is almost nothing you wouldn't do for richie tozier.

you quickly come to realize that there is at least one thing you won't do for richie tozier, no matter how drunk you are. "richie, put me down!" you laugh. you're swaying as richie carries you through the mostly-empty streets, your head resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his chest.

richie laughs, re-gripping your thigh with his long fingers and making your stomach flip. "but i want to." he says matter-of-fact, and out of the corner of your eye you can see his smile. you groan, thumping him with your fist and kicking your legs. "plus, you're going to die if you walk, y/n."

you scoff, "we're all going to die, richard. it's ‘97, the end of the world is in three years." you laugh at your own joke.

"yeah, drunk y/n believes in y2k. i think i want to keep carrying you, crazy girl." he mutters, grinning to the ground.

"but i don't! i jus wann'walk with you." you huff, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. he smells like fresh laundry and mint cologne and it makes you sigh dreamily.

giving in, he stops and sighs, releasing your legs so you slide down back to your feet.

he gives you a soft smile, and his face in the moonlight makes your stomach flip. "happy, babe?" he asks, watching you. you stare at him for a few moments, your hands lingering on his arms as you watch him. "always with you." you say honestly, hand moving up to brush a strand of his hair from his face. you almost think you could kiss him.

but you break your trance with a laugh and you start to walk again, in relative silence, until you stumble and nearly fall. richie grabs your hips, muttering "jesus," as he steadies you, and you laugh as you right yourself. you're walking again, and you slip your hand into his as you listen to him tell you about his new computers class, nuzzling against his side as you near your apartment. his fingers fit perfectly in yours.

"-shit, i don't have my keys!" you say quickly, looking at richie and tugging him to stop. he turns and gawks at you, and you almost start to tear up. god, you're drunk. "i can't get in. i'm locked out, i don't-"

richie tugs you closer to him until he's hugging you, holding your head against his chest. as he pulls away, he rolls his eyes, "calm down, toots. you can stay with me, you don't have to worry."

you smile, feeling butterflies again as you hug him, whispering thanks into his ear. it makes him laugh. "you're quite an affectionate drunk, aren't you doll?" he mutters as you grab his hand again, your other coming to gently rest on his forearm.

you pull away from him then, playfully ripping your hand from his and walking a foot away. your body feels cold at the loss of him, and he mumbles, "no, no! i never said i didn't like it." richie says with a laugh, pulling you back towards him.

you're in richie's apartment within ten minutes. he's holding your hair back as you vomit within fifteen.

"i hate this." you say miserably as he sits behind you, rubbing your back. "i know, but you'll feel better now." he insists, thumb rubbing you sweetly and making you surge with love.

you pivot on the tile of his bathroom so that you're almost straddling him, pulling him towards you and into a hug as you sit on his lap, legs folded on your knees on either side of his hips. “do you promise?” you mutter, eyes closing. you suddenly feel exhausted.

his arms rise to encircle you and he laughs a bit, muttering something about a koala bear as he hugs back. “f’course i promise.”

and then he's calling you clingy but he's pulling you closer; as you press your lips lightly to small places on his neck, peppering his smooth skin with soft kisses, his breathing chokes and his words halt a bit.

you pull back after a few seconds, unsure wether the racing heartbeat was yours or his, and you stare at each other. you're lost in his eyes, his hand on your thigh and the other rubbing your back. your eyes can’t help but bounce to his freckled lips and you shift a bit, fingers tugging on the curls at the back nape of his neck. you mutter, "can i have a toothbrush?"

richie insists you take his bed. you've begged him to at least share it with you, but he promises he'll be just outside the room on the couch in case you need anything. you're so tired that you can barely protest, anyways.

"thank you for being the best friend ever." you say to richie as he helps you settle into his bed. he laughs a bit, shrugging. "you do the same for me." he mutters, standing from the edge of the mattress.

your heart swells, your smile shortens, and you grab his sleeve. he stops and looks at you expectantly, a sweet smile on his face. “y'know, i should do this more often babe, you're a sweetheart when you're drunk."

you shake your head, "oh, my god." you say, smiling and bringing your hands to your eyes. he laughs, "what? honest, you are. it's adorable, kid." he ruffles your hair but then his fingers start to run through the strands, gently combing the strands. you shrug, shaking your head again. you let out a laugh, knowing you’re doomed. "oh god, rich, you have to stop."

he lifts a brow, not saying anything else although there's a grin on his face. you laugh again, feeling dizzy but more comfortable than ever as you drown in his sheets. it smells like him, overwhelmingly so - all you can see and hear and smell and feel is richie. and so as he pats your head and turns off the lamp, the following darkness in the room gives you the courage to whisper it.

"i love you, richie."

he laughs in the dark, "i love you too." and your eyes are already closed because you're exhausted but you shake your head. "no, richie... you idiot. i... i wanna be with you."

he laughs, "i am with you right now, y/n. we’re in my room. god, you had way too much, i'm a bad babysitter."

in your exhausted, drunken stupor, you groan, pushing your head further into his pillowcase. how daft is this boy?

"oh my god, richie." you mutter into the pillowcase, the hand that you'd laid on his thigh sliding to his arm to give him as good a shove as you can, seeing as you're already half asleep.

"oh my god what?" he asks, and you can hear his smile. it makes you giddy, thinking about him. you shake your head. "it's just stupid, richie... i am so in love with you, it's absurd." you mutter, the clearest you've sounded all night since you walked into that party. and as the world fades away quickly and sleep knocks you out, you don’t second guess richie’s silence or his soft, what?

you wake up to a piercing headache, a fogginess that clouds your mind as you flip onto your back and stretch. you brush your teeth in silence, drinking handfuls of water from richie's faucet because of course he doesn't have a cup in there.

and then you're padding into richie's kitchen where he sits at the table, two cups of coffee and a plate of eggs and toasted eggo waffles in front of him. he's reading his calculus text book, his stereo playing an oasis tape quietly in the living room. he looks up at you, "mornin' sunshine."

you almost scowl - you know you look probably just as awful as you feel. he has no goddamn right to look this handsome at this hour, so effortlessly.

he slides a bottle of pills to you as you sit across from him, swallowing them dry and then sipping on the coffee. you start to eat in relative silence, until you bring up a question gnawing at the back of your head. "hey."

he looks up, giving you a goofy smile that makes your insides melt. "hi." he says, smiling huge. he looks elated, and you're not sure why, but it makes him glow more than usual. you bring your knee up in the chair, resting your chin on it as you look at him.

"did i...get into any trouble last night?"

he hums, "you don't remember?"

you make eye contact and you lift a brow, "...is there something i should?"

"last night." he says, gnawing on his lip, an smirk on his face. you sit up, rubbing your eyes more as you lick a bit of toothpaste from your lip. "just before you fell asleep. you said..." he laughs, then. shaking his head. your stomach plummets - jesus, what did you say?

"you said you- that you...like, want me." he says it in a laugh, trying to make eye contact as you avoid it. you know you're turning red, you can feel it in your face, "wh-what?" you stammer, unsure if richie is teasing you because he doesn't care, or because its better than just straight up shooting you down. or he thinks whatever you said, you weren't serious.

did you try to fuck richie last night?

"when you went to bed. you said you're in love with me. that you want me." he looks like he's won the lottery as he smiles at you.

your stomach drops. love. ironic of him to try and joke about that, considering that’s something you very well could do when drunk.

you roll your eyes, "couldn't imagine why i'd say that. you're repulsive." you mutter, dragging your waffle through some syrup. richie laughs at this, shaking his head.

"ask yourself, babe. you seemed pretty adamant on me knowing. you fell asleep immediately after." he sounds more serious now, and that's when you realize he's not joking.

your smile falls, "wait- i really said that?"

he nods, "but if- if that's something that was just drunk y/n, that-that's fine. i totally understand, but i do think we need to talk about it." he's still got that teasing grin, but he's clear and his voice is soft. "i don't think it's okay for me to just not ever tell you about that. it would be really disrespectful to you. you deserve someone who you trust."

you blink, throat dry. what do you say now? how can you play this off, like it was nothing despite the constant flirtation between the two of you?

how can you sit here, in richie's dinky kitchen sipping on coffee he made just for you, wearing a pair of his boxers and his shirt, after spending the night in his bed and looking into his eyes, and tell him you're not in love with him?

"sorry." you say with a scratchy throat, tucking hair out of your face. you remember bits from last night - pulling richie's arm around you every time you and him were next to each other, putting your hand on his chest when you listened to a friend tell a story. you remember when he kissed the crown of your head, then when you insisted he hold your hand.... you remember sitting on the floor with him and kissing his neck. but you don't remember much else.

then you think more about being on the bathroom floor with him and you groan, "oh my god, i threw up last night too. i'm so sorry." you say, rubbing your eyes and burying your face. richie laughs, “don’t be sorry toots.... it was kind of cute actually.”

you send him a look, "you think me vomiting was cute?" and he shrugs, "i just like it when i get to be close to you. you know, even when you're not drunk and overly affectionate, i can't ever get my mind off you."

his boldness takes your breath out of your throat and you stare at him. "you- what? really?" you ask, your heart thumping.

he shrugs, leaning forwards and taking one of your hands gently in his own. "it makes me happier than anything in the world." he says it so casually, like he's known it his whole life.

“it’s embarrassing,” your eyes strain on richie’s hand, your fingers trailing idle patterns because it's easier than looking at him. “-that i've felt this way, but we've never said anything.”

“i guess i just never really felt like it needed saying. it was always just there for me.” richie's gaze is intent, and a finger teases over your lip, feather-light. “would you like me to say it now?”

your eyes widen - in all this, in your hangover brain, it hadn't yet occurred to you that richie may feel the same way. you grin against his finger, and his thumb pinches your chin lightly, bringing you forwards. one hand tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"i think you're the cutest. even when you're piss drunk.” his words make you wrinkle your nose, and he laughs. gently, he leans forward and kisses the top of your nose, shaking his head.

"i am in love with you, y/n."

his words make you feel on fire, and you look away with a small grin. he tuts, using his fingers to guide your face back to his. "don't look away." something about his words makes your stomach coil in excitement, and so you keep your eyes on his. "i love you so much it's almost stupid."

"not as stupid as you." is the only thing you can think to say, and the half-chuckle that leaves richie's mouth as he surges towards you makes your heart soar with pride.

he kisses you like you're the center of gravity, surging forwards with so much force you almost fall back against the chair. a hand is on the back of your neck, a dizzied breath falling from your lips as his thumb brushes an exposed slice of skin at your hip settling upwards, warm and steady.

you're breathless, tentative, and abruptly shy as your panting breaths chased the silence. your eyes meet, richie's bold and unregretting. a gentle, loving smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

and then he kisses you again.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @trashedfortozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @melinda-weasley @flowerceiling

#richie tozier x reader #losers club x reader #richie tozier smut

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flooffybits · 4 years

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Favoritism

Idol: Kim Minji, Kim Yoohyeon (Dreamcatcher)

Anon: - i wanna start by saying thank u for taking the time to read this and that reading ur works is such a stress reliever amidst all the deadlines i have ☺️ craving some fluff rn so can i request a scenario with poly reader, jiu and yoohyeon? jiyoo wants their s/o’s attention but s/o is busy with pie and cherry who seem to favor s/o a lot more than their own owners. (can u add sua being whiny bc pie keeps running away by going to the reader? i find it cute everytime i see a scared pie with her 😂)

A/n: this is just such a cute and funny idea that i was excited to write it. I’ve been itching for more Dreamcatcher requests so thank you for this

☕buy me a coffee☕

Your girlfriends always loved it when you were able to spend time together despite your busy schedules. With them being idols and you at your own job, it was understandable that the time you had together wasn’t exactly a lot. But whenever you were around, it made the whole thing more meaningful.

Gone were Jiu and Yoohyeon from Dreamcatcher and the only people left were your girlfriends, Minji and Yoohyeon. Whenever the three of you were together, they lived their lives in such a domestic manner even with the mention of InSomnias and having the rest of the group around every now and then.

While they loved when you were at the dorm, right now, they were sat to the side, watching with envy when your attention would not shift away from the twos pups that were happily wiggling on your lap and trying to catch your hands.

“You’re so cute! If I knew you were here, I would have brought something for you.” You coo while scratching under their chins before they decided to stand on their hind legs in an attempt to lick your face, but due to both being so small, they could barely even reach your neck.

But their attempts were just so cute, and the way they would not stop trying to lick you ended up tickling you and forcing you to fall back from your sitting position. Seeing their opportunity, the two dogs waste no time in attacking your face with kisses, drawing more giggles from your lips as you squirmed on the floor.

It would have been such an adorable sight to the two owners, but seeing as it’s been more than thirty minutes of you ignoring the pair that’s caused them to dislike their adorable little fur babies at that very moment.

“Cherry, come here!” The leader tried after another five minutes, but the white puppy refused to budge from your chest, the same with Pie when Yoohyeon tried calling for her. “Pie, Y/n is tired, see?” But she simply turned her head away when you started to pet the two.

Minji looked at you with a huff, pouting when you wouldn’t even look in their direction. “I get the feeling that you’re only with us for our dogs.” She claims, but even then you refuse to look while smiling at the two. “Well, they were the ones asking for my attention. It’s kinda hard not to give it to them.” You chuckle lightly before slowly sitting up, setting the two on your lap but keeping one hand on each of them as they finally calmed down.

“You said you were visiting us, not Pie and Cherry! And they won’t even come to us.” Yoohyeon complained with a pout of her own when she stood to try and take her pet away, but Pie had only tried to wriggle out of her arms before she was making her way back to you.

“In my defense, I had no clue they were here.” You smile before putting the two on the floor to stand up and tend to your sulking girlfriends, which caused them to finally smile at getting your attention, but the tugging of your pants had caused you to pause, looking down to find Cherry biting on it just so you would pay more attention to her.

Seeing this, Minji’s eyes narrowed before she looked around for the pup’s toy and then reaching for it. “Cherry, look! It’s your favorite toy.” She called out, and while she felt triumphant when she looked, Cherry was quick to dismiss it as she barked and attempted to have you pick her up once more.

Their antics had caused you to laugh before reaching down to pick both Cherry and Pie up, seeing as the latter was staring at you to do so. Walking over to the bed, you sat down next to Minji, Yoohyeon taking the opposite side as you set the two dogs on their respective owners’ laps.

But before they could even properly hold them, the two hopped off their laps and back on yours, earning a groan from the pair and another bout of laughter from you. “Jesus, why are they so clingy?” You ask, your voice going a pitch higher when you, once again, began to shower them with affection.

"For heaven's sake..." Minji tried to get Cherry off of you, only to have her bark back and shift away from her hands. "Yah! Kim Cherry!"

"Pie loves mommy, right? Come to mommy." Yoohyeon had attempted to lure Pie back to herself, only to have said dog turn its head to you and pressed her small body against your stomach.

Seeing as there was no chance of their pets leaving your side, Yoohyeon groaned dramatically before she was laying down on the bed. “Unnie! Our babies are stealing Y/n!” She whined in a high pitched tone as Minji pouted while you continued to play with the two said babies.

“You’re being so dramatic. They just missed me just like you did.”

“We still miss you because we only got at least five minutes until Pie and Cherry took you away.”

Lightly rolling your eyes, you then move to set the two pups on the floor and then turn to the pair who were looking at you with a pout on their faces. If it were possible, Yoohyeon would even cry with how much you refused to give them any form of attention.

“Come here. They can’t get on the bed.”

At that, your two girlfriends finally perked up before you were pulled down on the bed and into their eager arms, kisses being pressed to your cheeks before Yoohyeon rested her head against your shoulder and Minji pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, sighing in content as they were finally able to enjoy your company without a problem.

“I can’t believe you were being jealous over dogs.” You chuckled when the three of you just ended up cuddling on the bed, kisses exchanged in between and whispered compliments slipping every now and then.

Minji scoffed as she glanced to the floor where the two were, patiently waiting with their tails wagging, and then back to you. “We’re your girlfriends.”

“They’re your babies.”

“Stop ruining the moment.”

You ended up laughing at the small whine that came from the silver haired woman and kissed her forehead before doing the same to Minji, who relaxed in your hold and allowed her eyes to close.

“I’m always gonna love the both of you. Cherry and Pie are your kids, so of course I’m going to love them, too.” You tell them as Yoohyeon hums. “But you should love us more.”

“There’s no one else to love more.”

Later in the evening, everyone’s gathered in the living room, you and Minji in the kitchen, preparing dinner, while Gahyeon decided to help out and wanting to learn as well.

The rest of the girls were just waiting, playing with the two dogs since their attention seemed to always flit to the pair whenever one of them was brought along for the group to meet.

“Unnie, stop!” You could hear Yoohyeon’s voice amidst the chaos while continuing to stir the pot, the girls’ laughter meeting your ears after. “Be careful!” Siyeon had called out and the three of you wonder what was happening until two fluffy puppies came pawing at your legs.

Handong had to laugh as Bora ran after them. Currently, Yubin was laughing on the couch with Siyeon beside her and the main vocalist had her phone out whilst Yoohyeon had gotten up to run after the two as well.

When you look down at the two, Bora was already whining. “Why do they keep going to Y/n?” The volume of her voice seemed to frighten the pups and you smile before gently picking them up, your older girlfriend shaking her head as she went back to finishing your food while Gahyeon did her best to distance herself from you and the dogs in your arms.

“They really love Y/n. Cherry even barked at me when I tried to take her away.” Minji explained as you walked to the living room to set the pups down. Yubin reached out after calming from her laughing fit and smiled when Pie licked at her hand while Handong gently started to pet Cherry’s head.

“It would have been easy if Y/n’s surname was Kim, too. But if ever, are you going to rename them as Cherry and Pie L/n or just keep them as is?” Siyeon asked curiously.

“I’m offended that you think I’ll let Y/n completely steal my baby, unnie.” Yoohyeon piped up as she picked Pie up into her arms and rubbed her stomach. “Ohhh. Rejected.” Handong teases but you just smile and shake your head. “Even if they don’t have my name, I can still love them, anyway.”

“Y/n is such a sweet talker, no wonder Cherry and Pie prefer them over us.” Minji stated as she and Gahyeon finally came back with the food and placed them on the table. “Well, to be fair, Y/n is a really lovable person.” Gahyeon piped up, earning a smack on the arm from a cackling Bora.

“I can’t argue with that, but I still refuse to leave Y/n with Cherry and/or Pie anymore. I feel like if we do that, they’ll go home with Y/n instead.”

“Hey, I’ll take good care of them.” You defend and Yubin nods her head. “With how you take care of Jiu unnie and Yoohyeon, there’s no doubt about it.”

“No, I’d rather Y/n just takes care of us and we’ll handle the dogs.” Yoohyeon huffs and her fellow maknae seemed surprise whilst Siyeon poked her arm. “Are you being jealous? Of your own dog?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Minji and Yoohyeon send you a glare while you winked at them. “They’ve been like this the whole day.” You explain, earning another round of laughter from the group, minus your two lovely girlfriends.

“You’re lucky we love you.”

“Love you, too.”

#girl group #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher scenarios #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher jiu #jiu dreamcatcher #jiu #kim minji #jiu scenarios #jiu imagines #dreamcatcher yoohyeon #yoohyeon dreamcatcher #yoohyeon #kim yoohyeon #yoohyeon imagines #yoohyeon scenarios

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yuzukult · 4 years

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effortlessly pt. 2 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (not in this chapter) words: ~3.0k notes: this fic might be longer or shorter than planned, i have no idea what i’m planning for this so...... yeah, figured i should drop something before i drown myself bc i have finals for my online summer semester ;u;

o young love, how i wish i could go back in time // also it’s not edited yet, i usually proofread about 5x because i have the worse eyesight and i read too fast :D series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue

The chlorine from the school’s pool overwhelms your senses, triggering you to sneeze a couple times into the crook of your arm. “Bless you!”

Lifting your head to meet your gaze with the owner of the words, you see Jungkook standing before you, swimming cap in one hand and a towel in the other, tousling his hair dry. He doesn’t have a shirt on, just his bathing trunks that hang loosely on his hips, and you swear that if he wasn’t preoccupied, he would’ve seen the drool coming from the corner of your mouth.

“Uh, thanks.”

“You came.” He grins, plopping his wet body onto the bench beside you as you grimace at the water from his trunks splattering at you. “I kind of thought I scared you away earlier.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You say, feigning ignorance. “You told me the other day you wanted me to come by after practice and here I am.”

“You know what I’m talking about. That ‘crush’ conversation.”

You roll your eyes at him, pushing him away playfully. “I thought I told you it was Yura with the crush.” Jungkook shakes his head in dismissal, clicking his tongue in unison. “I’ve known you your entire life. You’re telling me that I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

“No, but—” He’s leaning close, his soaked fringe dripping onto your skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. “What?”

“Just trying to get a better read on you.” The proximity between you and Jungkook is small, so small that you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath the entire time until he backs away and you let out a deep exhale. “W-What for?” You manage to respond.

“What do you think about us... doing it again?”

He’s not looking at you this time, hands running through his drenched locks, eyes never leaving the concrete ground. The question startles you. For one, Jungkook was being shy. He never seemed to hide things from you before but that assumption was proven wrong when you saw the girl he brought him the other day. Jungkook didn’t even hesitate to call you up when he just took the biggest shit or even when he picked the longest booger. Why was he suddenly acting bashful?

“... again?” You reiterate, hands clutching onto the bench. “You want to do what again?”

“Uh... sleep together.”

“Jeon, we always sleep together. I don’t understand why you’re being weird—“

“No,” he sighs frustratedly at himself, knowing his question was unclear while slouching over in his seat. “When I say sleep together, I meant have sex again. I feel like I fucked up our first time together and I want to make up for it.”

Oh. Was that all? After the incident, you’d been as emotionally intelligent as you could, pushing to the back of your mind the fact that you’re so in love with Jeon Jungkook and you’ve both had his first kiss and virginity— for him, likewise. How yes, these things were far from perfect but to you, it was perfect because it was with him. That’s all that mattered.

“You don’t need to make up for anything. It was good! You took care of me and made sure I was okay. Apparently, it hurts like hell but you made it bearable.”

“I... really want to try again. What if we try teaching each other so that when the time comes and we meet someone, we’re ready?”

By the time we meet someone. The words burned in your heart, hissing as the pain clenched your chest. You knew that you didn’t want to meet ‘someone,’ you just wanted Jungkook. Just then, the girl comes to mind.

“Is it about that girl?” Jungkook’s head shoots in your direction, brows crinkled in confusion. “What girl?”

You’re chewing your bottom lip anxiously, waving your hanging legs above the ground. “I saw you bring a girl home the other day. Is it about her?”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change for a moment before an ‘ah’ escapes his mouth with the memory. “You mean Dahyun? I’m tutoring her in my free time. I needed some money. What? Are you jealous?” His lips tug in a mischievous smile; he’s genuinely enjoying the way your face contorts into realization, his heart warm at the idea of you wary of someone else capturing his attention.

“No.” You quickly mutter under your breath, a bit annoyed with yourself for letting your emotions get to you so quickly. This was Jungkook you were talking about here— the one guy who could pretty much land a date with any girl at your school, yet he’s over here playing games with you instead. It’s no surprise that he’s teasing you again but you’re wishing he was serious.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re the only girl in my life?”

You shove him off the bench, rolling your eyes. “Why did you want me here again?” He’s on the floor, a hearty laugh roaring from his chest. He’s effortlessly handsome like this and it’s no wonder that you’ve fallen for him.

“I think you should reconsider my question and let me know when you’re ready. But besides that,” Jungkook is getting off of the solid ground, rubbing his bottom in the process. “I want you to come to my swim meet this Friday. You’re my good luck charm and I can’t win without you.”

“Why do I feel like those one of girls who are hopelessly in love with him?” You grumble into your arms, rubbing your hands into your face dishearteningly. “I feel so stupid, falling for his charms and everything. You know what he said to me again today?”

Yura’s in the process of shoving the cheesy goodness of tteokbokki into her mouth, sauce spilling out on the sides of her lips. She always had the biggest appetite and ate messily but it never stopped the queue of men standing outside her locker trying to shove in love letters on Valentine’s Day. Yura was a pure beauty— you always found yourself curious how the two of you became friends because you thought you weren’t as special, just average. But nonetheless, Yura had never failed to be there for you, through thick and thin, and your love for her in this friendship was almost the equivalent to what you felt for Jungkook. Except you were in love with Jungkook.

“Wha de he say?” She doesn’t even wait to finish swallowing her food, she just speaks through it, spitting some of the hot sauce onto your side of the table as you scowl in disgust.

“Jesus, Yura, chew and swallow first.”

“Sorry,” She smiles cheekily after emptying her mouth. “What did he say?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re the only girl for me? I want you to come to my swim meet this Friday. You’re my good luck charm and I can’t win without you.”

Both of Yura’s brows raise up. “Oh wow, he’s definitely smitten with you. So, when are you gonna tell him that you’re ‘hopelessly in love’ with him?”

You sigh. “I can’t. I’ll ruin our friendship.”

“You’re doing this ass backwards,” She says, shaking her head as she picks out a fish cake from the bowl. “You guys fucked and yet you think that confessing your feelings will ruin your friendship?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you exhale another deep breath of sadness. “I’m just happy with where we are. I like being the special one in his life. What if I tell him and he doesn’t reciprocate feelings?”

“Worry about it then.” She responds casually, stuffing another spoonful into her mouth. “I don’t understand why people get so scared of telling someone how they feel. You never know your opportunity until you try it. Plus, it’s Jungkook. You really think he’s going to just drop you after all these years?”

Maybe Yura was right. Well— there was no way in hell you’d let her know that because her ego would swell up and get the best of her, but she made a valid point. Jungkook doesn’t know that you like him, right? So what if he did feel something for you?

“Think about it. Has he ever had a girlfriend?”

Silent, you’re almost skimming your mental memory of any recollection of Jungkook having a relationship. “Honestly, no.”

“And he tells you everything.”

“Correct.” You answer again.

“Don’t you feel like he’s waiting for something? Or someone in particular? You even mentioned it before, he happens to have the entire women population of this school crawling at his feet and all he does is act dumb.”

A floral square neck short sleeve crop top and blue jeans were what you decided to leave the house with for Jungkook’s swim competition but you don’t feel like yourself underneath this fabric. In actuality, you would never find yourself walking out the house in something so... fitted, opting for something more comfortable and breathable, but you knew today wasn’t a day for that. You’d gather enough courage to finally tell Jungkook that you didn’t want to be just friends anymore, you were ready to take it to the next level.

Sitting down on the bleachers of the humid arena, the stench of chlorine attacks your sense of smell again. You could never understand what it felt like to be Jungkook— he lived for the aroma of the water entering in his nostrils, the feeling of water touching his skin for hours, having so much control whenever he was in the pool. Whenever he was stressed, angry or sad, the first place you’d look for him would be here. Mediations were for some people, but swimming was for Jungkook.

He’s walking toward you, a beautiful grin spreading from ear to ear, wearing what seems to be insufferable competitive swim trunks that hug the lower half his body so tightly it could be a second layer of skin. He hasn’t worn his cap yet, but he’s holding it in his hand with his goggles, arms opened wide for you to come into his embrace.

“I’m seriously so happy you’re here. And look at you! All dressed up. Is this for me?” You scoff yet you’re already in his arms, face snuggled into his bare chest. He smelled like the water but when it’s coming from him, the scent is intoxicating. “Why would you even expect me not to come? I’m always rooting for you and your dreams, you idiot.”

For a brief moment, you’re standing on the sidelines with his arms wrapped around your frame and his chin resting on your head. Being with Jungkook was different, he made you feel a way that none of the guys that came into your life have made you feel.

Summers ago, you met this handsome boy, Taehyung. He was a few years older than both you and Jungkook and a member of the same swim team as Jungkook. Taehyung was the love that you knew realistically would never like you back. He was close to graduation, prepping for the recruiters who would attend their swim competitions to see potential candidates for colleges. Girls were flaunting themselves on him just as much as Jungkook and just as similar to him, his aspirations were a priority. Those girls were put in the back burner. He’d make your heart swell in your chest, constantly bringing you snacks and checking in on you occasionally as you study on the sidelines by the pool, waiting for your best friend to finish practice. You recall telling Jungkook about your childish crush on the guy you barely knew and him responding with, “You just think he’s cute. I don’t think you really like him,” or “He’s just being nice! He’s nice to everyone. Don’t fall for his charms so quickly.”

All of your feelings for Taehyung disappeared the day he graduated, saying his goodbyes to both you and Jungkook while in his blue gown, newly dyed platinum locks disheveled underneath his cap. He ruffles Jungkook’s hair, eyes gleaming toward the younger male before saying, “Take care of yourself, will ya? And take care of the little one too. Don’t let her fall between the cracks.” With that, he left with a scholarship to swim for the college team abroad in the United States, and you haven’t heard from him since.

The whistle blows, signaling the swimmers to get in their positions, and Jungkook lets go of you and you’re suddenly feeling empty. But the look he gifts you is loving, the reflection of the sunlight hitting the pool touches his face before he’s putting on his swim cap and goggles.

Jungkook is standing on the platform, side by side with other competitors from local high schools. Although you’ve come to almost all his practices and attended every single swim meet, you couldn’t exactly grasp onto any of the rules or the jargon but Jungkook never held that against you. He just wanted you there as his personal cheerleader, standing in the bleachers, watching him perform the greatest act as each time he does this is better than the last.

The referee blows a short series of whistles, initiating the start of the race and Jungkook dives into the water in mere milliseconds amongst the rest of the swimmers. He’s fast—incredibly fast that you’re afraid to blink because you might miss something important.

Jungkook was placed in the freestyle 100m event; his coach evidently complimented him constantly for his ability to adapt to the time and switch the types of strokes he needed to use in order to beat anyone neck and neck with him.

Today was no exception. Jungkook hit his first lap in third place; a technique he learned was to never overexert your strengths in the beginning because in the last portion of the race was where you want to push yourself to the fullest. The amount of videos he made you sit through the entirety of throughout your life was countless. He would plop himself in front of the television or computer for hours, observing the olympic and professional swimmers tactics because his parents couldn’t afford a private teacher for him. It wasn’t until high school that he had a real coach, someone who could dedicate their time in training and shaping Jungkook into the athlete he wanted to be. Before that, he would come to school’s indoor pool almost daily to just swim laps and test out what he watched on the internet.

His second lap was closing to its end and like every other swim meet, your stomach was doing flips. There was so much faith in Jungkook, from you, his parents, his team, but you weren’t sure how he felt about himself. He never failed to impress everyone, swooning the hearts of both males and females during these events however never once has he expressed his anxiety before a competition. He just did it because he loved it. Swimming was Jungkook’s passion.

The male next to him is close, they’re strokes away from each other to the point you can’t even tell who’s in the lead. It ends so quickly that the referee blows into his whistle before you realize as Jungkook ascends from the water, snapping off his cap and goggles as he eyes the man in the white and black striped shirt before glancing over at his opponent.

The referee grabs Jungkook’s wrist with another scream of the whistle, and excitedly, Jungkook smacks the water. He won.

Towel hanging around his neck, his eyes sparkle at the sight of you approaching after his team congratulates him eagerly on his win. If you knew better, the sight of you was his own personal win.

“Congrats, Jeon.” You say, playfully pulling on his drenched locks. “I knew you’d win. You always win.”

“I always win because you’re here.” There he goes again, tugging on your heartstrings so carelessly. “Come join us for dinner after this.”

“Only if you dedicate some alone time with me for dessert.” You have no idea what being possess you because you’re abruptly so bold. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head questioningly. “Now you’re just tempting me to cancel dinner and go right to dessert. What do you want to talk about?”

“Just... stuff,” You say, pursing your lips. Before Jungkook can even say anything, another teammate comes up to him, slapping him on his buttock with a bright smile. “Look at little Kook, I’m not even surprised he even won.”

“I told you, I got myself a personal cheerleader. You should get one too.” Jungkook says, grasping onto your arm. “It’s a real energy booster when they’re cute too.”

“Oooo, maybe I can borrow your cheerleader!” His teammate teases but Jungkook clicks his tongue threateningly. “Get your own, this one is mine.” His teammate laughs before shaking his head and walking away to the rest of the group.

“I’m still curious what you’re going to say to me.” He says, turning back to direct his attention onto you. “You think you can skip waiting ‘til dessert and tell me now?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on!” He whines and despite his height, he still can throw a tantrum like a child.��“I really want to—“

“Oppa?”

The two of you divert your fixation onto the owner of the soft voice; blinking blankly, your eyes browse over the girl. You assume it’s Dahyun because her hair is down like the other day and her petite body seems familiar and you’re proven right when Jungkook calls out her name.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a math test tomorrow that you need to study for?”

She has a pink gift bag in her hand, butterfly and heart stickers decorated all over. The bag looks heavy with how the handles stretch to the fullest extent. You’re chewing your bottom lip now; Dahyun was going to confess and you’re unsure if Jungkook can tell.

“Can we talk in private for a moment, Oppa? I have to tell you something.”

“You can tell me here.” He gestures your presence with a grin on his face. “I don’t have anything to hide from her, she doesn’t judge so tell me what you have to say freely. And if she does judge...” Jungkook’s gaze shifts to you as he squints his eyes. “I’ll just beat her up.”

“Oppa, I think I like you. Will you go out with me?”

#gyukultfics #jungkook #jungkook fics #jeon jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts fics #what else do you tag here i totally forgot my train of thought lol #kfanfic #jungkook fic #bangtan #jungkook smut #bangtan smut #bts smut

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ku-ro-kai · 3 years

Text

Lethal lust

You are taken away to be the maid of a demon although you didn't know what you were getting yourself into

What can I say, u have three holes for a reason

TW; manipulation fluff, angst,blood,monster kink,blowjob,breeding kink,anal,jealousy, non-con,f

You don't remember how you ended up being the apprentice of a fire demon, he picked you from the streets one cold night saying "you'll do good, have you done any work in your life?"

You replied back "no", you couldn't see his face but he was big, least standing at 7'1,he huffed out a sigh "you will work for me,I'm only teaching you once, you fail, you die, you complain, you die got that?" you nodded your head "good, now what's your name mortal"

"(Your Name)" he murmured something under his breath before sending you into a deep sleep.

You aware of the chatter going on around you, sounded like three of them, you couldn't tell who it was, at the end it all sounds the same.

"She's beauty dabi, you couldn't have stolen her off the streets"

"Long as she abide by my rules, she should be easy to work with"

"What's with the broad, you usually kill them"

"She is not to be eaten"

"A human really? What if she gets the wrong idea and kill you"

"No need to worry I have that under control"

After the you went back into your deep sleep

Dabi had awoken you to give you a sleeveless kimono with a flashy obi,vibrant colors leaving small diamond shapes to your waist, it was the emblem he wore on his chest.

You finally seen his face,staples pulling his face together and the skin on his arms, his kimono was open revealing staples holding him in the middle of his abdomen, was he waiting this whole time just for you to wake?

But what you gain so far, the demon named dabi lives in a large Minka,floors covered in Tatami wood and doors that slide when you open them, you've also learned he works with two other demons,keigo takami the Hawk demon, he's lures his victims in by his charming looks -he only prefers women since they have more "fat" stored.

Then there's shigaraki tomura, a decay demon, they don't have a preference when it comes to eating, he likes to watch his "food" suffer in pain from his claws piercing in their lower abdomen, what a painful way to go.

Dabi has given you many warnings about those two;specifically not to piss them off. On the other hand you doubt you could do that, they rarely come to the house , dabi doesn't ask for your help that much furthermore he's been frequently inviting women over, you can't tell the difference if it's moans or screams coming from his room but your sure those women come out with quivering legs.

Peaceful day-you guarantee nothing can ruin it,no concerning moans, no blood soiling the paper walls, no pestering demons,you let the sun dance on your face, the koi fish were swimming without a thought on their minds. You took a sip of your tea watching the trees blow with the wind. Dabi left a note with terrible written kanji,he went out to get more staples, he will be back around midnight you assumed.

"There you are, you look more pretty when your awake" you heard a low soothing voice behind you,didn't even notice the flapping of his wings?

"Oh master Hawks! master dabi didn't tell me you were coming home" you got up from your spot and bowed

"Just refer to me as keigo, never caught your name"

" L/N Y/N" you looked down at the floor, playing with the wrapping on your kimono. He was eye catching, no wonder women were risking their lives just to be in his presence,his dirty blonde locks dripping wet,his golden orbs were gleaming, wings colored a maroon red,his kimono colored in fabrics of honey gold, it was almost see through,the black strikes in the corner of his eyes,hair soaked with water droplets, he must've just came from a bath.

"What a timid little thing you are" he clicked his tongue, his eyes were staring at you like you were prey, you could show a little more skin additionally some makeup should be suggested, dabi was never hard on women, probably to avoid ruining your heart, have you come to him every night in more of him and your needs. But unfortunately dabi was put on a pause, keigo saw this as a perfect opportunity to take you apart, get under your skin, satisfy your every need, you would be great in his harem.

"Master Hawks? Are you alright"

"Yes of course -can you warm some tea up" he watched you bow again, heading into the dining area, a smirk rising at his lips

After giving Hawks his tea, the sun was coming down from it's long day of shining, you heard something crash with a few glasses shattering, "Y/N get over here quickly!" it was the voice of dabi, you ran to the first floor.

Jesus.

He was covered in soot and ashes,smelt like a dead corpse, blood soaking his forehead,Hawks laughed on the side of the door with his arm crossed

"Your not a sun demon remember that dabi!"

"Shut the hell up you chicken basterd" he turned in your direction "y/n prepare a bath for me"

__________

The view was nice but it felt like a close one you'll share with your loved one, dabi was not a close one at all, he was leaning back with a small towelette on his face, well at least all of that blood he was drenched in is off.

You left a bottle of sake by him and he said you can leave for now.

You rested your back on the paper walls of the room dabi was in, your so tired from cleaning the remaining ashes on his hair, a bit of white was starting to appear but you ignored it

You felt a small shoulder tap,"yes master dabi?" turning around in shock, you found yourself facing keigo, his lips were so close to your forehead, of course he was giant too,you were never this close up to him,you could feel his soft breaths fanning against your skin. "You look really tense, has he been stressing you out lately?" he sounded so caring, his talons rubbed gentle hooks on your cheek, he looked at your hands, your palms were covered in scratches from the staples you had to pick out from dabi skin.

"You poor thing, let me heal you up" a feather lifted you up by the thick sashes of your kimono, while he took another hall and few sharp turns "is this new to the house?"

"Of course not, just closed off to you unfortunately dabi forgot to tell you about it, at some point he's gotta share his little cute apprentice with us"

Don't forget y/n he's a complete flirt but the way he's going out of his way to help you is so unlike of demons.

He stopped at door, above it was written in kanji.

Takami.

He opened the door walking over piles of gold and coins,the color of honey gold suited him, the room was covered in jewelry, beautiful silk covered pillows alongside gems and crystals.

"You like to collect a lot master keigo"

"Not exactly these are gifts from the humans I've spared or the treasure for my women" his feather dropped you on his bed, with a swift hand gesture, the feathers moved around the room picking up all the treasure and trinkets.

Keigo took your hand in his grasps, with a few pokes in your palm, the cuts disappeared.

"Good as new"

"Thank you-but I promise there was no need to use magic on me"

There was just words of mumbles to him, keigo was more interested in your chest, the curves in your waist, your birth giving hips.

"You put up with so much from dabi, the talent you show when keeping the house spotless, you deserve a break for all your hard work " he gave you a charming smile

"It just seems like you have a weak spot for me now" you were surely flattered but now keigo was coming off as flirt like you expected with the tone he used, you just pray dabi doesn't come in.

"Aw that's too bad,I'm just speaking my mind " he took your chin in his hands,his talons were so sharp, your almost surprised that he hasn't cut you"your so pretty, you shouldn't be doing treated like this at all " he pecked small kisses at your jaw,going further down on your chest "dabi treating you like a bird locked in a cage" his other hand reached over to rip the obi off your kimono"he has the right idea,I wouldn't share you either"

"Keigo this is a forbidden taboo-"

He placed a kiss on your lips, you could feel his fangs against your tongue,his feathers removed the last of piece of your clothing "what humans and demons having intimacy? You don't really think there isn't such things like half demons" he chuckled at your worried face

"What about master dabi?"

"Who gives a rat's ass about him, he's a pain in the neck and I guarantee he's probably drunk on his second black out"

You couldn't contain the laugh you let out, you covered your mouth in hopes of it not being so loud

Keigo saw the right opportunity to go in for it,he turned you on your stomach, throwing your torn apart kimono on the floor, showing your undergarments, there a feather played with your clothed pearl.

"I prefer your fertile cunt but your not ready for breeding yet.." he placed kisses on your lower back, your small whines were driving him up the wall, his talons gripped down your waist.

"breeding?" what does he mean by that?Hawks ripped your undergarments off in one swift move, licking a long stripe on your bare pussy. Keigo tongue wriggled his against your other hole while his thumb moved in soothing motions on your clit, "prep for you when you are ready for my harem" in the corner of your eye, you saw his kimono fall to the floor,catching a glimpse of his size, you understand why prep was needed,he was big, you arched your back as you felt him nudge against your ass

You let out a painful whine,convulsing down on him out of the uncomfortable intrusion, "I know baby" he cooed while gripping down your marked up waist "Anal can be difficult but you'll get used to it, you don't have choice since I'll be here just for my prize possession after all" with that you felt his groin pull away from your ass and slam back.

He's so rough with his strokes, it was challenging containing your moans, keigo was biting down on your shoulder, his groans were so passionate yet rough, the pain was fading, the pleasure was slowly building up.

Keigo begin snarling, stuffing you with two fingers, you were so close but so far, his fangs pierced your skin leaving you with blood running down your chest and back, he covered your mouth with his other hand to muffle your scream, the pleasure mixing with the pain left you in awe. Your climax hit you hard, clenching down around his length,keigo came right after you,biting more on your weakened shoulder,your visions was starting to become blurry.

Keigo finally stopped took his fangs out of your shoulders, licking some of the blood off your lethargic body, "you did well y/n,such a shame we can't go for round two" he smiled but it hid a wild aura behind it "but I won't lie, your blood tastes magnificent, your definitely the right one for me" afterwards you blacked out.

"I can't wait for you to be my wife, tummy full with my seed, stealing you from dabi has been lingering on my mind since you stepped foot in here" he wrapped your shoulder up with badges before he kissed on your bosom"these are mine" he stopped, looking at his door with a shadow hiding behind it.

"Your more of a creep than I thought" keigo covered your naked body with his feathers, "don't you think you have enough human wives?" his voice was dry,scratcy like he had a cold, he the sliding door opened to shigaraki.

"You look a little jealous, not hard to tell from your hard on" keigo pulled a feather forming a sword, pointing it at the blue haired man"how long were you watching.."

"Since you claimed her with that bite mark" he walked closer "I'm not surprised your fucking food, why not eat her" he chuckled

"I'm not a sick fuck like you" he looked at your sleeping body then looked back at shigaraki "now get the hell out... And don't jerk off to my woman".

A sharp pain awoken you, you looked over to see keigo, his lips were a soft red from your blood, it was really dark or his wings are covering you in a bundle. You couldn't let dabi find you like this though you couldn't really move your legs much, you hoped for the best and went back to sleep.

There was familiar feeling on your skin, it was light and dense, you turned to find your staring at keigo's crimson feather.

"Ah your finally up, you were such a good girl last night that I went out to the market and brought you new kimono, it has sleeves and the collar can hide my markings" the kimono he held out was a pretty marigold color although the bottom was short,”I went a little rough on you so you might not be able stand up straight “ can you even called that a little? You have his bite mark still lingering on your shoulder with multiple marks on your waist and hip,little my ass

Keigo helped you out of bed just to try your new kimono on,he even went as far to do your hair and makeup,”keigo this is too much,how am I supposed to repay you for this,I love it but I can’t afford this,I’m just an apprentice “

“Who said anything about repaying “ he wrapped his arms around your waist taking in your scent “your more than some apprentice,remember your my prize possession, mine and only mines” you were catching butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey I’m a pretty good hairstylist” admiring your beauty in the mirror,”you wish!” He started getting red “I tried okay!” Putting on a whimsical smile, “don’t go near shigaraki “ expression changing with the voice he was putting off,his eyes were almost hawk-like, his smile disappeared,he was holding you tighter like he was gonna lose you”what’s so bad about him?”

He raised an eyebrow “he only see’s you as food “ he lets go of you to look at his wing,pulling out a dainty feather and latching it around some gold string”touch it if your in need of my help” with a few clicks here and there it was on your neck.

_________

Keigo was in a hurry to go, seemed like he had to go to his harem.

It was pouring down bad, you lit some candles up to avoid walking in the dark doing laundry,completely forgetting that the demons you lived with have special eyesight to let them see in the dark,it freaked you out when dabi's blue eyes was glaring at you in the dark"Move over-I have a headache" dabi laid out on your lap, groaning in irritation. "You really need to stop drinking every night" you took some clothes in your hand to fold.

"Don't start nagging about my drinking ,anyways what's with the makeup?"

You didn't wanna tell him keigo did it,along with him fucking you last night so just tell a lie!

"It was just sitting in my room, didn't wanna let go to waste"

He hummed in response

".. How long do you think it's gonna rain?"

"Don't know- don't care.. Mmh wake me up for dinner" he pat your thigh to let you know he's dozing off

You finished folding clothes so you went to grab a blanket to throw over dabi, you knew he wouldn't need it but just for safe keeping. Walking around in search of the kitchen was frustrating, you open a door that looked sealed away, you could hear faint breathing somewhere, you couldn't tell where it was coming from because the room was pitch black

"Wrong room dummy" shigaraki peeked out from the dark "um sorry- it's just so dark I didn't know"

Every step he had taken made you take another step back, his skin was ashen color, blue hair swaying each time, standing at the same height as dabi,you could see a few scars on his lips, his damp loose pants showing his v-line,beads of sweat rolling down his abs, this was the Shigaraki.

"I'll just leave now."

"You interrupted my training, your in no position to leave" he yanked you by the obi, watching it turn to dust in a instant, you reached to cover your body "I suggest you stop that or your little pretty face is next"

He slammed you into the wall knocking the air out of your lungs," I hate when people play with their food" he moved his hair out of the way, his eyes staring at you through your soul "that fucking bird loves taking humans and turning them into brides, I hate it so much it sickens me to my stomach" grabbing a handful of your hair, "then you play stupid with dabi pretending your the perfect apprentice, giving him attention like the little whore you are" he pulled you up against the wall "your supposed to be mines"

Putting up a fight wasn't even worth it,his claws are deadly and dangerous, if you even make the slightest wrong move your done for, you wished keigo was here. You felt a harsh thrash against your ass "look at me",now your legs were on his broad shoulders,you looked at him and his face just splayed confusion in it

“You never done this before have you..”

“ I have!” There was taint pink flushing his face, he was definitely a virgin

“You haven’t and that’s okay“ you opened your legs a bit more to get him in the right position "after all the eavesdropping you did, I would've thought you learned a thing or two"

"Shut up” he moved closer to your mound,out of anticipation his serpent like tongue swiveled around your folds,watching your slick swell on his tongue,finally he thrusted into you without warning,your mewls and whines had been muffled by shigaraki animalistic groans. His tongue was hitting spots that you didn't even know existed,your climax was rising closer.

His tongue came back to his mouth dwelling on your juices “why.. you stop” your pants started

“I just needed a taste..” that’s it?! He did all that just to get a taste!?

You picked up your shredded up clothes,limping back to your room praying keigo hasn’t made it back aswell as dabi still being asleep, luckily shigaraki didn't kill you but he did look like he was upset about something

_________

“Keigo keep it down they’ll hear us”you nuzzled in his lap while picking at his feathers,keigo was too excited about the gifts he brought for you although he’s been out too long and wanted a bath so he suggested you accompany him,”there’s gonna be blood moon tomorrow,I got you the perfect outfit just for it!” he started placing kisses on your back "sorry if I've been gone all day, the girls were feeling down today". You've wondered how many wives keigo has and why he wanted so many, though it wasn't your concern, you didn't wanna upset him if he brought up great news also you didn't confront him about shigaraki.

"Where did these bruises come from?"

Oh he's talking about the one from you being slammed into a wall.

"I fell doing laundry, it's just a small one no need to worry"

"You won't be doing laundry until then, don't even think about cooking, your getting rest for now"

The day was ending, keigo fixed dinner instead of you since you needed rest, it was rare a occurrence when demons ate human food,he brought you food, put you in beautiful silken nightgown. Shigaraki ignored you ever since he pushed you out of his room, dabi was clueless as always.

You went to go get a drink to shut down for the night, gaining more details about them, keigo went to bed early since he thrived in the sun more than the moon, as for shigaraki? This was his time to go find lost humans he could feast upon and for dabi this was usually his moment to get drunk. Too boot seeing him in sober manner and frustrated mood was not what you were expecting.

"The hell are you still doing up"

You looked away from the bulge showing from his kimono, he was sexually frustrated and you weren't doing anything but making it worse on him"I just wanted a drink before bed"

"I'll give you a drink" he grab harshly on your risk, taking you to his room, you fumbled all through the hall.

"Don't you speak this to anyone, especially when you've been whoring around their backs, now we wouldn't want that right y/n?"

"Yes"

"Yes what?" his voice had anger in it

"Yes master dabi" just because he was a demon doesn't mean your gonna let him treat you like this so you add the same tone in your voice

He scuffed rolling his eyes, why did you have to come in on his bad side, he layed down on his bed”on your knees” you got down on the floor waiting,he pulled closer to his groin,he was rutting against your face,was he really that packed up?

Soon as you took his cock out,there was a low growl coming from him,he was painfully hard and already leaking precum ,you gripped the base ,starting with the tip first,working your way down was the easy part but dabi didn’t approve so he pushed you down further until you reached his cervix.this rough assault on your throat had you choking , in shock there was a warm liquid inside your mouth.

His tail wrapped around your waist pulling you to him,he sat up sweating with his smug smirk “open” you opened your mouth as he ordered, his seed pooling on your tongue “perfect”

Thank you for reading❤️ follow me for more!

#dabi x reader #keigo x you #mha keigo x reader #shigaraki x reader

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puppywritings · 4 years

Text

sometimes they come back - qian kun (ft. huang renjun, dong sicheng, wong yukhei & johnny suh)

⇢ synopsis: kun was distraught when he lost his brother sicheng at a very young age. sixteen years later, he’s moved on from his trauma and made a living as a high school literature teacher. however, with the entrance of a troubled young student, along comes reminders of his brother’s gruesome end and somehow, kun feels a daunting link.

⇢ word count: 9.3k ⇢ trigger warnings: swearing, nightmares, trauma, mental illness, death of a family member, demons, blood, murder, one instance of semi-graphic gore.

⇢ a/n: so this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and i worked pretty damn hard on it. quick disclaimer that although i made renjun very evil i still love him ❤️ (and evil renjun is kinda sexy but u didn’t hear that from me) anyways this story definitely fits in the horror genre and may be disturbing for younger readers!! based on stephen king’s short story sometimes they come back but deviates from the actual plot. see the trigger warnings above and proceed with caution.

⇢ part of @takitaro and @starryqian‘s stephen king collab! thank u for allowing me to be part of such a fun project:)

⇢ taglist: @badwithten @sandaigdigan-reads

masterlist

Sunday.

The clock read 03:26 when Qian Kun woke up from his nightmare, panting and covered in sweat. Long ago, this was a familiar occurrence. Long ago, it was strange if he didn’t wake up like this. But, long ago, this all ended. It had been fourteen years since the nightmares stopped - so why were they happening again now?

Shaking, Kun got out of bed and trudged downstairs to the kitchen in the house where he lived alone, and had done for many years now. He flicked the switch to boil the kettle; there was no way he was getting back to sleep any time soon. His toes tapped anxiously on the tile floor while he sat at the table, picking at a hangnail on his left thumb. Why now, all this time after he had recovered, was he being forced to relive his brother’s murder as he slept?

The kettle boiled with a click, and Kun jumped. He huffed, hand on his chest, and went to prepare his drink. Coffee, black. He couldn’t take anything light or sugary, not that night. The sharpness of his beverage bit at him, and it was what he needed - a sensory distraction from the images currently filling his mind. His brother Sicheng, just thirteen years old; the light leaving his eyes as he went limp in Kun’s arms; the blood flooding out of his stab wound, bathing them both in crimson; the greaser gang dispersing, leaving Kun alone to yell, bawl, and beg. Kun shuddered, swallowing back nausea. God, he wanted to forget. But he knew he never could.

(Timeskip - 16 years earlier)

The weather had been fair on the afternoon that Kun lost his brother; the sky was blue, cloudless, and the air was practically alive with all the opportunities for young boys to find fun. The afternoon had begun much like any other. The young Kun and Sicheng, revolting against the idea of spending any time inside while the sun was shining, had set off towards their favourite diner, just a few blocks away. Kun remembered every detail exactly - he had relived the event every time he fell asleep for years afterwards - his brother’s bright blue t-shirt, the freckles scattering his cheeks, the frayed laces in his favourite sneakers. Sicheng was still small at thirteen years old, not yet having hit that growth spurt he was waiting for. In their neighbourhood, plagued with crime, bullies, and greaser gangs, Sicheng’s size put him at a disadvantage. Kun, though not huge himself, always felt protective over his younger brother, and had gotten into many a fistfight in his defence. That fated day felt perfectly normal, up until the moment they turned onto the diner’s street.

Fourteen-year-old Kun sighed. Swarmed around the entrance of their beloved diner was a group of greasers, complete with coal-black leather jackets and huge, hulking motorcycles.

“Come on, let’s go,” Sicheng said, hands tucked in his pockets. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“No,” Kun said abruptly, and Sicheng looked at him in surprise. “I’m sick of living my life in fear of these idiots. They don’t own the diner - we can just walk right past them and go inside. They can’t stop us.”

“Are you sure? What about little Shotaro?”

This made Kun pause. Everybody knew the story about little Shotaro. In the next town over, a boy a few years younger than them had been beaten to a pulp, almost killed, over a ridiculous turf war that he hadn’t even been involved in. Kun clenched his jaw, angry at the injustice, thoughts of the incident only spurring him on. He had more confidence that day than perhaps ever before.

“They won’t touch us.” Kun truly believed this. The group in question, a few years older than the brothers, had never caused them harm before. The most they had done before was chase them, and once spat on them, which had been an awful humiliation indeed, but Kun didn’t think they’d be bold enough to hurt them - it was all an act, a front to look tough. “Let's go,” Kun said with an edge of determination, and Sicheng followed him closely down the street.

As predicted, the greasers weren’t happy when Kun and Sicheng approached them - far from it. A boy, around seventeen or so, eyeballed the boys as soon as they got close. He scoffed when he saw that they weren’t stopping. “Yo,” he barked. “Diner’s ours today. Turn around.”

Kun puffed out his chest despite his nerves. “No.”

The greaser laughed incredulously, elbowing his buddy in the side as if sharing some ridiculous joke. He turned to Kun and Sicheng, looking down at them as though they were ants on the sidewalk. “Hold up. The fuck did you just say?”

“I said no,” Kun held his ground, fists clenched to keep them from trembling. Kun bravely chanced a look up at the greaser and was unable to read his expression. It was somewhere between disbelieving surprise and rage; his eyebrows were pulled tightly downwards, and his mouth was agape, showing a snaggletooth.

Kun felt Sicheng tug on the back of his shirt, holding onto his brother to ease his anxiety. He spoke up, following his older brother's lead. "We only want to get some milkshakes," he spoke with a tremor to his words. "Let us in."

There were sniggers and sneers from the group of greasers. "No means no, kid. Get lost," the ringleader spoke, leaning in close to Sicheng where he stood huddled behind Kun. "Before I make you wish you were never born. You don’t wanna fuck with me today."

Kun scoffed. "You wouldn't hurt us."

The ringleader raised a skeptical eyebrow at Kun, before stepping back, rolling up the sleeves of his leather jacket. "Grab him, boys."

Before Kun had the time to process the instruction, a pair of arms grabbed him from behind. He pulled, trying to break free, but it was to no avail. With the older boys being bigger and stronger, Kun's struggles were useless. Terror flooded his system; he had been wrong. The greasers weren't afraid to hurt him. They hadn't even hesitated. He had gravely misjudged their threat levels. As Kun grappled with the older boys, Sicheng watched. As if in slow-motion, Kun saw a fist, tightly curled, thrusting towards him, marked with a dark birthmark.

He heard the crack in his jaw before he felt the blinding pain. The pain was white-hot; it spread throughout his face, scalding his bones and making him groan. The greaser hit him again, and again, busting his nose. Kun felt dizzy with the pain, and his vision blurred.

"Let him go!" Kun heard Sicheng stick up for him as he went limp in the greasers' iron hold. "Let him go, you… y-you…"

The greaser laughed. "Spit it out, kid."

"You bitch!" Sicheng managed, almost panting with the effort.

Kun looked up to see the greaser gaping - Sicheng had managed to genuinely shock him. There was a fire in his eyes that Kun noticed despite his hazy vision. Still detained, Kun watched as the greaser reached into his leather jacket. He saw a silver flash, and naively wondered why he would wield a comb in such a threatening way.

It wasn’t until Sicheng was on his knees, crouched over and clutching his abdomen, that Kun realised it hadn’t been a comb.

“Jesus Christ,” gasped the greaser holding Kun back. He stepped back, releasing Kun, who fell onto his hands and knees.

“S-Sicheng,” Kun gasped, unable to breathe. Sicheng’s blood poured onto the pavement, and Kun felt it on his hands, warm, as he crawled towards his brother. Distantly, Kun noticed the crowd of greasers disperse, fast, but all he could focus on was Sicheng.

“Ambulance-” Kun choked out, unsure who he was calling to. “Somebody get an ambulance!”

Kun caught his brother as he collapsed, wheezing. “Sicheng, no- I- you can’t-”

Sicheng’s eyelids were heavy and they struggled to remain open. Kun knew it was too late - there was too much blood on the ground, on Kun. Sicheng went limp in his arms, his eyes went glassy. Kun screamed.

Kun suffered from a dark and heavy grief after losing Sicheng. The world seemed bleak and pointless for some time. He couldn’t understand why he was being made to live in this world, a world without his brother and best friend. What cruel hands of fate would ever take away such a young, innocent life? Plagued by nightmares, Kun trudged through the next few years.

However, as is inevitable when it comes to the resilient nature of mankind, Kun managed to move on. He went to therapy, vanquished his demons, and held Sicheng close to his heart. He stepped out of the shadow that grief had cast upon him, and vowed to live a better life than the one Sicheng had, the one that was cut far too short. He worked hard, went to a good college, and moved out of the area that was haunted by nightmares of gangs and crime.

Sixteen years after losing his brother, Kun had made quite a life for himself. He taught literature to wealthy children at a prestigious private school. The school was nothing like the one he and Sicheng had attended in their youth. Kun taught the children of politicians, CEO’s, people with money. The students Kun taught were free of leather jackets and motorcycles, and their pockets had never seen switchblade knives. They thrived in an environment that nurtured its students, looked after them and educated them. Kun lived a calm life, a stable life. He went to work each day and there wasn’t a steel-toed boot or studded leather glove in sight. He was in peace -

Monday.

Until that week. Kun rubbed his eyes as he yawned, stretching his legs, stiff from sitting at his kitchen table for such a long time. Not a single nightmare about his brother’s death for fourteen years, and now, out of the blue… Kun had dreamed of Sicheng’s death every night for a week. It was as puzzling as it was concerning. Kun blinked tiredly, looking up at the clock on the wall of his kitchen. He jumped - he had been sitting there all night. He stood, going to his window and pulling back the curtains. It was true; morning light illuminated the dew drops on his lawn, which was littered with small birds twittering away to each other. He put on another pot of coffee; it was only an hour until he had to leave for work.

Kun had had the week from hell. Each dream had been different; in some, Sicheng roared at Kun, blood gurgling from his mouth as he cursed his brother for failing to save him; in others, Kun was stabbed alongside his brother. Some dreams were a perfect replica of the actual events. One thing remained unchanged, though. Kun never saw the face of the attacker. He knew it was just a matter of his brain blocking out details to protect him, but it frustrated him at times. Kun could never hunt the man down, not even if he wanted to. He could walk past the man on the street and be none the wiser.

His house had begun to feel like a prison; he had spent each night either waking in a cold sweat, or sipping coffee at his kitchen table when the threat of nightmares was too daunting for him to even lie down. And he had spent his days recuperating. A dreadful headache had been afflicting him, and he had taken the whole week off work. Now, however, he knew he had to return. Though still exhausted, and with a dull pounding tormenting his head, Kun was very aware of how easy it was to slip back into a depressive slump. He believed that the normalcy of his work environment would soothe him, and that the darkness that had built up in his home could be shed by a nice, regular day at work.

Or so he thought.

Kun felt uneasy throughout his day at the school; there was a darkness hanging in the air, albeit a darkness only himself picked up on. He coasted through the day, serving mediocre lessons and dodging his students’ questions of, “Where have you been, Mr Qian?” and “Were you sick, Mr Qian?”

Something was off. There were dark clouds that lingered at the edges of his vision, always staying in his peripheral, never quite coming into view. There were cold spots that sent chills down his spine, and whispers that were too distant to decipher. Kun tried to brush off his paranoia as a lingering side effect of the built-up sleep deprivation he was facing, but he simply couldn’t deny the fact that something just felt wrong.

All too soon, the school day ended. Students filtered out of the building, and Kun was alone with his thoughts yet again. Resting his forehead on the cool wooden surface of his desk, he allowed himself a very self-indulgent groan, an attempt to release his frustration and restlessness. It didn’t work - not that he actually thought it would. Kun knew that he could use the excuse of catching up on work to remain in his classroom for a good few hours. However there was a limited amount of work he could stay behind to carry out, and he would have to return home soon enough, back to the darkness and the nightmares.

Kun stood, stretching his aching muscles, and idly looked out of his classroom window. Winter was approaching - though only just past four in the afternoon, a grey gloom was already beginning to fall as the sky darkened. He would go home now, he decided. At least there he could set the fire going, change into a warm sweater, and make himself dinner as he worked. Kun donned his favourite brown coat, picked up his worn briefcase, and departed his classroom.

“Mr Qian.” Kun stopped on the way to his car when he heard his name. His head whipped around at lightning speed; one could say he was a little on-edge.

“Principal Suh, hello,” Kun greeted his boss.

“You’re feeling better, I hope?” the principal spoke as he caught up with Kun, who faked a smile and nodded. “Great. I was hoping to catch you tomorrow morning but since I’ve got you now; there’s a transfer student, he’ll be in your first-period class tomorrow. I only feel the need to warn you because…” the principal paused, taking a measured sigh, as if trying to find the best words to use. “Well, he’s a bit of a problem child, it seems.”

Kun nodded and smiled at all the correct intervals, clenching a fist inside his pocket to cope with the frustration of how badly he wanted to get home.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” the principal continued, “Nothing we haven’t seen before. Rich kid lashing out to get daddy’s attention.” Kun gave a cynical laugh. “Huang Renjun. I’ll give you his file tomorrow morning.”

Huang Renjun.

Kun recognised that name from somewhere. He began to think back, but was pulled sharply from his thoughts by a searing pain in his jaw. It was deeply reminiscent of the injury he suffered from all those years ago, during his brother’s accident; the dislocated jaw he sustained when the wretched greaser had hit him.

“Right,” Kun commented distractedly, plastering that fake smile upon his face once again. “See you tomorrow, Principal Suh.” The man smiled, giving Kun a hearty pat on the back before departing.

Kun hurried to his car. The pain in his jaw was worrying, and it only became more intense with each passing moment. He couldn’t think what could’ve brought this on - surely not repercussions from his previous injury, which had healed fine and hadn’t shown a single problem in sixteen years. He drove home, the ache hanging over him like a thick fog. Once there, Kun fell into his bed, passing out just as the pain became paralysing.

Tuesday, 6:03am

Kun awoke the next morning, feeling as though he hadn’t slept a wink, despite the thirteen hours he had under his belt. Groggily, he brought a hand up to his jaw, rubbing it tentatively. No more pain. That was relieving. Still, even with the lack of pain, he wouldn’t consider the morning particularly pleasant thus far.

Kun had dreamed again that night. Another nightmare replaying Sicheng’s death. This dream, however, had been different from any other before. The faceless entity who stabbed his brother had a name. The name was never spoken, never outright stated, but Kun knew it to be true; his name was Huang Renjun.

Kun sat up, rubbing his tired eyes. He had a bad feeling. Come on, Kun, be rational, he willed himself. This was just his brain feeding the day’s information into his dream. Obviously there was no link between Kun’s new student and the bastard who killed his brother sixteen years ago - obviously. The logical part of Kun’s brain believed this completely. But he had a gut feeling that something was very, very wrong. He couldn’t shake the feeling, and it laid heavy in his stomach like a stone. He couldn’t shake it as he made breakfast, and he couldn’t shake it as he washed his face and dressed for work. It overpowered even the pounding in his head, which was rather powerful itself.

Kun knocked back some painkillers; he couldn’t take another day off, as he had used up all his paid sick days until the end of the semester. Even if he did have another sick day available, Kun didn’t think he would take it. He had a real feeling of dread, entirely surrounding Huang Renjun, transfer student and alleged problem child, guest and visitor to Kun’s nightmares. Call it morbid curiosity, but Kun had to meet the boy. He wondered if these feelings would go away once he met the student. Kun imagined it, all dread and darkness dissipating when he saw that Huang Renjun was just a regular teenage boy, albeit a little troubled.

Maybe it was just the pessimistic devil on his shoulder, but he doubted it. Everything lined up just a little too nicely for his liking - the return of his nightmares, the unshakable feelings of both dread and paranoia, the ache in his jaw, and the entrance of this child. God, Kun felt like a madman, but it truly felt linked to him.

A while later, Kun was still pondering these things as he paced up and down the staff room, clutching his coffee mug a little too tightly.

“Morning, Kun.”

The greeting was innocuous, harmless. But Kun, like a skittish horse, jumped out of his skin and allowed his mug to fall to the ground, shattering. Kun sighed.

“Woah, sorry,” Yukhei apologised, surprised and worried. “Didn’t mean to scare you there.”

“It’s okay,” Kun waved it off with a shaky smile. “Way too much caffeine in my system.”

Yukhei, gym teacher and Kun’s friend, silently helped him clean up the mess. Kun was thankful, and displayed his appreciation with another smile that he hoped seemed genuine.

Kun looked up, after sweeping up some smaller shards, to find Yukhei looking at him inquisitively. “Are you doing okay?” the taller man asked.

“I- Yeah. Yeah, I’m doing fine.” Even to his own ears, Kun didn’t put on a very convincing show.

“Burnout is a real thing, bro. You gotta take care of yourself.”

Kun’s heart raced a little, at the receival of some genuine human concern. He hadn't realised the effect it had had upon him, isolating himself for that week-long period. Kun nodded, trying hard not to tear up. “Thanks, Yukhei.”

“I think Principal Suh was looking for you, by the way,” Yukhei mentioned offhandedly.

The kid’s file - Kun had completely forgotten. In a display of perfect timing, the bell sounded, signalling the beginning of first period.

“Shit,” muttered Kun.

Yukhei gave Kun a supportive pat on the back. “We should have a catch up soon, man. You know where I am if you need anything.”

With that, Yukhei was gone, presumably to teach a class, and Kun followed after him, out into the crowds of tired, blathering teenagers. He supposed he’d just have to read the file whenever Principal Suh was free to contact him.

Kun’s classroom was full by the time he reached it - had he really taken that long? he wondered distantly. His students were a little rowdy despite the early hour, seizing the lack of supervision and taking full advantage of it, chatting to each other noisily. They hadn’t noted his arrival yet, so Kun took the opportunity to stand in the doorway for a moment, unseen and undetected. He glanced around the room, and his eyes fell upon his new student easily.

Huang Renjun. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Where his classmates dressed appropriately in the uniformed navy blazers, Renjun wore a very prominent black leather jacket. Kun swallowed nervously. The boy was facing away from Kun, speaking to his peers, but he knew it was him. Taking a shaky breath, Kun stepped into his classroom, pushing through the panic brought on by one of his triggers. The leather jacket, far too reminiscent of his youth and the traumas he endured there, had had a profound effect on him, but he had the necessary coping mechanisms to deal with it. He inhaled deeply, paused, and exhaled.

Kun cleared his throat as he entered the room, and the chatter quietened. “Excuse me,” he spoke, his voice clear and bold, pointedly avoiding looking at the boy. “I know you’re new here, but you can’t wear that in class.” Still keeping his gaze away from the student, Kun removed his coat and pressed the power button to boot up his computer.

Huang Renjun remained silent, although another student, Haeun, spoke up. “What are you talking about, Mr Qian? He’s wearing the uniform.”

Kun blinked, finally taking another look at Renjun. The boy had turned around and was, in fact, complying entirely with the uniform code. Blazer included. No leather jacket to be seen. A few students snickered at Kun’s mistake. Luckily, he knew he wouldn’t get mocked too much; most of his students respected him highly. He was well-liked, generally. They would let this mistake pass.

Renjun wasn’t looking at Kun. His gaze was pointed straight down towards his desk, face hidden behind long bangs.

“Oh. Right. I apologise, it must’ve been a trick of the light.” Kun gave a sincere apology. Though he was paranoid, exhausted, filled with dread, he wasn’t going to forego his manners.

“No worries, sir,” Renjun forgave him easily. He sounded like a regular teenager, Kun thought, although he wasn’t sure what else he expected. The student looked up at Kun, using his hand to flick his hair out of his face. Kun noted the mark on his hand, the dark birthmark. He began to feel dizzy; he knew that mark.

Out of nowhere, Kun felt that pain again - that white-hot, blinding bite in his jaw. It reached out its burning tendrils, spreading all throughout his face. Kun stepped back, staggering almost, as he cupped his jaw apprehensively. Kun was still looking at Renjun, who moved his stare, looking directly into Kun’s eyes.

Renjun’s eyes were black. No whites, no iris. Pure, solid black.

Though Kun didn't think it was possible, the pain intensified. Grey spots danced across the classroom as his vision went spotty, fizzling like static on a television. Kun swayed, reaching out to grab the edge of his desk for support but missing it entirely, catching thin air instead. Heavy as a stone, Kun fell to the ground, passing out.

The last thing he saw was Huang Renjun glaring at him, a malicious smile on his face.

Tuesday, 9:53am

Kun's eyes snapped open. The fluorescent lights above his head were harsh, and he winced, blinking. He was lying down; where was he?

"Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling, Mr Qian?" The school nurse, Joohyun. Right. He had passed out in class.

Kun sat up abruptly. Huang Renjun - that piercing gaze, the menacing grin.

Nurse Joohyun spoke to him again. "You passed out during first period. Do you remember that, Mr Qian?"

"Yes," Kun confirmed, rubbing his jaw and reminiscing of the pain prior to his fainting spell. It was now entirely painless. "Migraine," Kun materialised his excuse on the spot, "They've been bothering me lately."

"Ah," Joohyun nodded in sympathetic understanding, talking as she prepared Kun a cup of water and passed it to him. "Nasty things. You should go home and rest for the remainder of the day. Will you be able to drive yourself home?"

"Yes, thank you." Kun didn't realise how thirsty he was until the water passed his lips. He drank it gratefully.

Nurse Joohyun departed, leaving Kun in the quiet once again. He finished his water and left the school with haste. Once in his car, he allowed himself to fall apart a little, unseen. When he threw his head into his hands, he found that he was shaking, trembling. Was this it? Was he going insane?

No. Kun’s mind was sharp. He knew it was still intact. He always had been a logical man, and so he remained. He only believed in what he saw, what he knew to be the complete truth. And even now, when the very truths of reality had become so dark and twisted, he knew that what his mind believed was the absolute truth.

He kept his eyes trained directly on the road, focused straight ahead as he thought. He had to be rational here. In completely untenable circumstances, Kun had to remain tenable. In this utterly illogical situation, Kun had to think logically.

He laid the facts out in front of him: sixteen years ago, his brother was stabbed. He suffered from terrible grief. He went to therapy, grew up, the nightmares went away. He worked hard, got a good job, and moved on. Everything was okay. Right?

Then the nightmares returned. A new student arrived at his school, Huang Renjun. He started getting splitting pains in his jaw, right where that bastard punched him before murdering his brother. The student featured in his nightmares. He had the same birthmark as that killer. Kun made eye contact with Renjun and passed out. And the student had looked at him with that expression, that malicious smile. A look of pure evil.

And so, illigocial, irrational, implausible, untenable as it was, Kun knew it to be true. Sixteen years ago, Huang Renjun murdered Sicheng. And now, sixteen years later, Huang Renjun was a student in Kun’s class, not having aged a day.

Kun was home before he knew it. He went inside, but didn’t rest. He didn’t sleep, didn’t close his eyes for longer than a blink until the next morning.

Wednesday.

Kun felt unsafe in the school. He was angry; how dare this entity make him feel so uncomfortable in his own place of work? He felt the lingering darkness, even when he was surrounded by students and faculty. It smothered him like a blanket of smoke, impossibly heavy and making him choke.

Kun wasn’t teaching Huang Renjun’s class that day. Yet he was still terrified. Paranoia tinged his vision, altered his very perception of reality; every student that entered his classroom was Renjun, until he blinked and they weren’t. Every sudden movement was a punch flying towards his jaw, until he shook himself and there was no threat. He was completely on edge all day.

While Kun was exhausted, he was also overwhelmed with the energies of a thousand different emotions. He was terrified, paranoid, furious, devastated. He couldn’t believe that he was back here, replaying Sicheng’s death in his mind over and over. This piece of shit, this monster - he was here solely to fuck with Kun. And the worst part of it was that he was succeeding. Kun felt defiant. He couldn’t let this thing ruin him. Not for a second time.

Kun looked around. The sun was shining brightly, but he didn’t feel its warm rays. He stepped on a piece of bright pink bubblegum, flattened on the pavement, but his shoes didn’t stick. He looked up; thirteen-year-old Sicheng was looking back at him.

Oh, fuck. Not again.

Kun wished he could grab his younger brother by the arm and march him back home, stopping the imminent events before they even happened. But the picture was already in motion. Before Kun knew it, he and Sicheng were stood before the greaser gang.

“Diner’s ours today. Turn around,” barked the ringleader, Huang Renjun.

Wait, Huang Renjun?

Surely enough, the boy from Kun’s class was in front of him, in all his greaser glory - leather jacket donned, hair slicked back, snaggletooth displayed in a mean snarl. Slowly, the other greasers melted away, ceasing to exist in this dreamland. Even Sicheng evaporated. Only Kun and Renjun remained.

“What the fuck do you want with me?” Kun asked, his voice dripping with equal parts anger and desperation.

Renjun shrugged, smiling smugly. He looked as though he were playing his favourite game. “You’re fun to mess with, Kun.”

“Fuck off,” Kun bit back. “Haven’t you messed with me enough?”

Renjun laughed. And laughed, and laughed. The hideous melody went on for far too long, and Kun winced at the sound. “I’ve barely even begun messing with you, Kun! Wait and see, how depraved you’ll get. People do funny things when you push them far enough.”

Renjun stepped closer to Kun. Somehow, the child towered above him. “And I- Can’t- Wait-” each word was punctuated by a tap on Kun’s nose, “To see what you’ll do.”

Kun tried to slap his hand away, but missed. “You’re sick,” he spat, “You’re a monster.”

“Well, duh,” Renjun scoffed. “You’re just stating the obvious here, Kunny.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” Kun hissed, stumbling backwards. He turned, running down streets that were so familiar yet so distant to him.

“You can run,” Renjun’s voice followed him, “But you’ll never escape.”

Kun woke with a start, panting in his bed. His usual calming mantra of “It’s just a dream,” did nothing that night. Kun knew that it was far more than a petty nightmare. This was real - all too real.

Thursday, 11:12am

Kun had Renjun’s class again that day, and he was determined not to let the child hurt him. He had it figured out, or so he thought; don’t look the kid in the eyes, don’t speak to him, don’t even acknowledge his presence. And then Kun would be safe. This was all a game to Renjun, and Kun would not be playing. He simply would not engage.

The class began relatively smoothly. Though it was late morning, the sun hid behind thick clouds which produced a healthy drizzle, darkening the world and giving the background noise of rain against the classroom windows, pitter patter. Kun worked hard to ignore the heavy weight that hung over him, and the dark energy that Huang Renjun exuded from the back of the room. Nobody else seemed to pick up in it, but Kun sure as hell did. He could've collapsed under its pressure, it was so heavy. But he remained strong, resisting toughly against its darkness.

Kun gripped a paperback tightly in his hand. Macbeth. A text he knew well, and found easy to teach.

"So," Kun explained to his class, "As she desperately tries to rub away this invisible bloodstain, we see Lady Macbeth-"

"Sir." Kun was interrupted by Renjun. He ignored it.

"We see Lady-"

"SIR," Renjun interrupted again, raising his voice.

Kun looked around the classroom. Nobody else seemed perturbed by the boy's yelling, nobody so much as batted an eyelid. They all looked rather bored, staring off into space or doodling in their notebooks. Part of Kun wondered whether anyone else had actually heard what he did.

He gave a level sigh. "What is it?" he answered the boy. Kun refused to speak his name, refused to even look at him. He kept his eyes directed down towards the book in his hands, and he noticed his knuckles turn white with their grip.

"Why are you staring at me?" Renjun's tone was lazy, playful. He was toying with Kun. Driving him to his limit? Daring him to snap?

"I'm not staring at you," Kun responded, remaining calm. It wasn't easy; Renjun's darkness was overwhelming, pulsating in the air, making Kun's head throb. It brought out the worst in Kun. Oh, how badly he wanted to throw the boy across the room. But he wouldn't. He would stay calm.

"Yes, you are," Renjun argued, and Kun could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I'm not," Kun denied.

"You are," Renjun returned.

Kun dropped his book, which fell with a slap onto his desk. "I haven't glanced at you once this whole lesson," he snapped. Kun cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure - if one could consider this shaky state composed. "We see Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Now, can anyone tell me-"

"Well that's strange."

"Can anyone tell me how-"

"Why are you avoiding me, Kun?"

"Huang, go to the principal's office."

As soon as Kun spoke that name, the deep, dark energy that had been smothering Kun for the past twenty minutes permeated his body, penetrating his very soul. He shuddered. It was dark; so very dark. It was as if by speaking his name, he had let the beast touch him. He had let him inside, he had been infected.

"Fine," Renjun said, standing up. His desk was empty, unlike the students that surrounded him. He had no notebook, no notes. No pencil case, no pens. With nothing to gather, he marched straight to the door.

Kun, in a moment of weakness, or perhaps just a moment of pure stupidity, glanced at the boy for a split second before he slammed the classroom door behind him. A split second was all it took.

Again, Renjun's eyes were fully black. He grinned at Kun, but it was very much unlike the menacing grimace he had displayed a few days prior. His teeth were bared, rows and rows of razor-sharp fangs, needle-like in nature. They were sheer white, polished and shining, piercing Kun's heart from ten feet away.

The door slammed, shutting him out, but that split second was long enough to instill fear in Kun's deepest core, absolute terror. The external darkness eased a little once he was gone, returning to a low hum of evil energy, but Kun was shaking as he resumed the lesson.

As expected, Renjun's behaviour had gone entirely unnoticed by the rest of the class. They didn't even seem disturbed by Kun's raised voice - he was extremely glad about this. He had a deep integral belief that it was wrong to yell at his students. He would have been kicking himself. But he knew Huang Renjun wasn't a student. It wasn't a teenage boy, it was something dark, dangerous. a powerful entity from god-knows-where.

Kun gave his students a task to complete at their leisure, and took a seat at his desk. He gripped the heavy oak, trying to still his shaking hands. Maybe he ought to go back to therapy, he considered. But where would he even start? With the death of his brother? With the return of his nightmares? With the entrance of Huang Renjun.

No, he dismissed the idea. No competent therapist would believe him - he would be sectioned and medicated after a single session. Plus, whatever was going on was solely between him and Renjun; it was completely unseen and unacknowledged by anybody else.

Kun sounded delirious, even to himself. Nothing in science or logic could possibly provide an explanation for what was happening. But he knew it was real. He knew. Huang Renjun was something cruel, something sick. Something that had crawled right out of hell, directly to Kun's doorstep to torture him. He would figure this out, he vowed. He would rid himself of this beast.

Thursday, 3:49pm

The end of the day - Kun had made it. He let himself relax in his desk chair, leaning back and closing his eyes. He had to admit, he was rather proud of himself. Yes, he’d had a minor run-in with the boy, but he’d managed to diffuse the situation and rid himself of the problem. And, more importantly, he hadn’t passed out this time. Kun scoffed at the hilarity of it all - what a ridiculously low standard for a good day, reaching 3pm without suffering a fainting spell. He would go home and treat himself, he decided, by cooking a comforting stir-fried beef dish.

Knock, knock, knock.

Kun sat forwards with a jolt, gripping his desk tightly for some form of stability. He hated living in this near-constant state of fight-or-flight - it could easily be a quiet freshman, coming to ask questions they were too shy to raise in class. It could have been a colleague, a parent, any number of harmless guests. Despite all of the possibilities, Kun’s mind went to the worst place. He was certain he knew who it was. God, don’t let it be him.

The door swung open in a dreadfully slow manner. Pale fingers wrapped themselves around the door, which gave way to reveal none other than Huang Renjun; just Kun’s luck.

“What do you want?” Kun asked the boy, hackles raised.

Renjun didn’t respond. He closed the door behind him, and the click sent shivers down Kun’s spine - what was he doing? Kun could only watch, frozen, as the boy moved. He grabbed a chair from behind a desk, and brought it to Kun’s desk. The shiny metal squealed as it was dragged across the floor, making Kun wince. Renjun sat on the chair backwards, facing Kun and leaning his arms on the backrest. He rested his head on his arms, looking up at his teacher. He was the picture of innocence; wide eyes, a small mischievous smile present on his lips. Kun only sat in silence, waiting for the boy to act. He was action-ready, prepared to bolt (or even fight) should Renjun do anything drastic.

Kun wasn’t sure how many minutes passed before Renjun spoke. Until that point, they had simply been staring at each other, Kun with a panicked look in his bloodshot eyes and Renjun clearly enjoying the effect he was having on the older male. “I’m sorry for upsetting you today,” Renjun said. Kun didn’t reply, only moving his hands to his thighs, digging his nails inwards to ground himself. “Why do you have it out for me?” Renjun spoke again.

To an outsider, the scene would have been simply heartwrenching. Renjun, a very obviously damaged adolescent who had been hurt by the world many times, looking his teacher in the eye and asking why, pleading almost, begging to be treated right for once in his young life. He sounded like a sad, broken young man; innocent, confused, curious.

Kun knew it was a ruse.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kun denied, his voice low and flat. He gathered some papers on his desk and shuffled them. He busied himself, so as not to get lost within Renjun’s dark energy again. If he were to pass out here, completely alone in the classroom, he had no idea what would become of him.

Renjun continued his sad little boy pretense, flashing dark puppy-dog eyes up at Kun. “I didn’t do anything to you,” he cooed. “I’m just a kid, right?”

Kun was certain that Renjun was playing games with him now. He knew that Kun knew. “You’re not just a kid,” Kun snapped, snarling at the boy in front of him. He threw the papers back down on his desk, rolling backwards in his chair to put distance between himself and the child. The sky opened up all of a sudden, rain pouring from the heavens.

“C’mon, don’t be mean,” Renjun drawled. “Play along, Kun. I’m just a kid… Right?”

“I’m going home,” Kun stated abruptly, standing up and preparing to remove himself from the situation. Renjun began to cackle, but Kun did everything he could to shut the boy out. He picked up his briefcase and slung his coat over his arm. A dash of thunder cracked through the sky, and Kun jumped.

“I left you a surprise there,” Renjun spoke, his voice playful.

Kun turned, running out of his classroom and sprinting down corridors. What the fuck had that bastard done to his house? He was barely even aware of the rain once he reached the school’s exit, though it drenched him in a matter of seconds. In the mad dash to his car, his hair fell flat with the rain, sticking to his forehead, and his shirt clung to his body, turning see-through. He rifled through his coat pockets, hunting for his car keys.

To the stray students that lingered after school hours, Kun probably looked deranged. But others’ perceptions of him were the least of his worries at that moment. He had no idea what Renjun was capable of - he had no idea what Renjun even was. A ghost? A demon? Something else? He truly didn’t know. He had to get home, and fast.

Kun was panting when he reached his house, worked up into a complete frenzy of anxiety and agitation. He swung into his driveway hastily, not wanting to lose any precious time perfecting his parking. Half on the driveway and half on his lawn, he stepped out of his car, staggering.

His front door had been completely torn off its hinges. Kun’s hands met his hair, tugging in helplessness. The door itself was laying haphazardly inside the doorway - if you could even call it a door any more. It was in two pieces, ripped apart. Shards of glass and wood were discarded all around. What the fuck had the monster done?

Kun dreaded to think what this looked like to his neighbours. The elderly couple to the left of him must have been terrified to see that beast rip through his house like a hurricane - how had the police not been called yet?

Kun gritted his teeth as he entered his house. He knew he had drawn the curtains that morning, but they had been pulled shut since. He squinted, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he fumbled for the light switch with shaky hands. He almost whimpered when the light flickered on. His armchair had been flipped, and his couch was torn, littered with slash marks, made by a knife or even a pair of claws. Kun looked around the room in horror - this was his home. He felt so attacked, so violated.

His eyes fell upon the mirror that hung above his fireplace, and he was forced to hold onto his ruined couch to save his buckling knees. Scrawled across it, in burning crimson, was his brother’s name, “SICHENG.”

Kun couldn’t breathe. He looked through the letters to his reflection. He looked every bit as distraught as he felt. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, which he supposed he hadn’t, not properly. He looked like a man whose life was falling apart.

His home wasn't a safe place for him any more. Physically nor emotionally. Kun darted around his house, grabbing an old duffle bag and filling it with essentials - a change of clothes, his toothbrush, phone charger. He supposed he didn't need his keys, not when any old stranger could wander inside from the streets. After a moment of deliberation, he threw in his largest kitchen knife too.

Fifteen minutes later, Kun pulled up at a dying establishment, parking his car a little more neatly this time. Elliot Motel read the faded sign, desperately in need of a paint job. The place was deserted - Kun wouldn’t have been surprised to see a tumbleweed rolling past. But it was remote, and it was a place away from his home where he could lay low and hide out until he figured out what to do.

The bored receptionist hadn’t spared Kun a second glance, for which he was grateful. Once in his allocated room, he double-locked the door and pulled the curtains tightly shut. He didn’t even dare turn on the light, for fear of the yellow glow being visible through the curtains. Although it would come as a shock to him if the place even had working electrics. The dark was better; it gave him a sense of anonymity, and it kept the cockroaches hidden from his view.

Kun perched on the end of the bed, resting his head in his hands. He could hear his heart hammering, the pulsating sound rattled around his head and he could feel it. He couldn’t think straight - his only emotion was blind panic. He leapt up from the bed, too much energy to stay seated. He paced back and forth in the dark, almost tearing out his hair in terror.

Hours passed but Kun couldn’t settle. His brain was going a mile a minute, darting from one place to the next. He was frazzled, and he had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to do. He was angry, enraged that this demon would fuck up his life and his home like this. He was terrified, and he felt as though he may be ambushed or attacked any minute. He couldn’t think straight. And exactly as the clock struck midnight, the phone in his dingy motel room began to ring.

Kun yelped, the harsh trilling ring boring into his soul and making him jump. He scrambled to the old rotary phone, tightly gripping the handle and pulling it close to his ear. He heard nothing at the other end, other than very faint static.

“Hello?” Kun spoke. His own voice shocked him - he sounded so unstable, like a scared little boy. The same scared little boy who would wake up from nightmares of losing his brother all those years ago.

A rattling noise came out of the receiver. After a few seconds, Kun realised it was the sound of somebody breathing. Even yet ragged breaths, loud and crackly through the ancient telephone. Kun knew exactly who it was.

“I know it’s you, bastard,” he hissed into the phone. He was met with more silence. Kun was furious. This monster was ruining him - look at what he’d turned him into. A grown man, a man who was esteemed and well-respected. Crouched on the floor of a dingy motel, clutching a telephone, his once neat shirt and trousers now rumpled and sticky with sweat. This couldn’t go on any longer, Kun decided.

“Meet me at the school. 3am. We’re ending this.”

Thursday, 2:34am.

Kun was ready. It hadn't been easy - he'd been through hell and back - but he was prepared. He knew what had to be done, and he was willing to do it.

In the hours since the dreadful phone call which had riled him up immensely, Kun had darted all over town.

To the library, where he had left a broken window in his wake (and he could only hope that his makeshift mask would be enough to save him from breaking and entering charges). He had encountered a dusty section he had never noticed before, which was strange in itself. Being a teacher of literature, the library was a place he frequented, though this section he had never happened upon. He was convinced it only bore itself to those in need, but that fact was neither here nor there. He had rifled through the section, leaving pages torn and books scattered, something he never would have done in his normal life. But he did the research he needed to do, and got the exact knowledge he required.

He had driven back to his house, which no longer felt like a home, to pick up one of the few precious belongings of Sicheng's he had left - necessary for the sacrifice. He had paroled the streets, searching for a stray animal. He never would've harmed an animal but the blood of an innocent creature was needed. He pulled though, apologising deeply to the stray dog which yelped and bit at him.

And there he stood, in the middle of his classroom, clutching his duffle bag which was filled with the most mismatched assortment of offerings. Raising Demons, the book which had proven most informative, Sicheng's red woollen scarf, a vial full of dog's blood, the butcher knife from his kitchen. He looked like a hot mess and he knew it; his shirt was untucked, most of the buttons now undone, and he had lost his tie long ago. He was panting, and he couldn't seem to find his breath no matter how long he stood still.

He looked around his classroom. It was empty, but soon that would change - and that wasn't a comforting thought by far. God, he was wasting time, he thought as he stood there dumbly. But where the fuck did he start?

He ran to action, shoving away the desks that surrounded him, creating a clearing in the centre of the room. He threw open the cupboard at the back of the room and pulled out the old stereo that lay dormant in there. He messed with the dials, twiddling them back and forth until static blared out. He flinched at the sound, but it was no louder than the blaring panic that had been reverberating around his skull lately.

Not wanting to waste another minute, Kun sprinted to the front of the room, grabbing a marker pen and setting to work on the floor. As meticulously as he could with his shaking hands, Kun drew a pentagram, tainting the floor of his beloved classroom. He yanked open his duffle bag, trembling as he placed the items around the pentagram. He picked up the stolen novel, Raising Demons, and jumped to the page he had dog-eared.

Well, Kun thought to himself, No time like the present.

He recited the passage, focusing heavily - he couldn’t get a single word wrong. “Dark Father, hear me for my soul’s sake. I am one who promises sacrifice. I am one who seeks vengeance of the left hand. I bring blood in promise of sacrifice.”

A wind picked up in the classroom, dark clouds materialising and flying around the pentagram in a tight circle, a tornado of evil.

Kun had thought he’d witnessed true darkness in the presence of Huang Renjun; he thought he had seen what evil really was. He had been wrong. True darkness, true overwhelming power, true and pure evil, was what he had summoned before him. Renjun was nothing in comparison to this beast. Kun felt sick.

A voice spoke to him, hissing and spitting, from deep within the clouds. It was deep, grating, abnormal. “What do you ask of me?”

Kun looked down towards the ground. He didn’t want to peer too deeply into this void that had materialised - he knew that anything he saw would scar him deeply. Its energy was horrific enough. This wasn’t a sight he wanted to see. He spoke as clearly as he could, raising his voice to the demon. “Rid me of the spirit that plagues me.”

“Then give me what is mine,” the voice rumbled back.

Kun nodded, trembling. He kneeled on the floor, picked up the butcher’s knife. He placed his hand on the floor, all fingers curled under his fist apart from his pinky finger. He closed his eyes, whimpering as he braced himself. Kun raised the knife and brought it down fast. He yelped; the pain was immense, but he knew he hadn’t yet severed the bone. He took a second hit. A third. A fourth. Again, and again. As Kun screamed, the appendage finally detached.

He reopened his eyes, recognising the blood splattered across the floor as his own. He used the knife to nudge the detached appendage into the pentagram, his nausea intensifying. Blood was spurting from his hand at an alarming rate, and he clutched it close to his chest.

The voice spoke again. “It will be done.”

Kun looked to the clock in his classroom, just as it turned 3. Renjun appeared in the doorway with that now-familiar evil smile on his face. Kun’s vision was spotty, but he could still see Renjun’s grin fall instantly. He couldn’t read the expression on the thing’s face. It could have been rage. It could even have been fear.

“No,” Renjun roared. “What have you done?”

The tornado picked up, and Kun flew flat on his back with the intensity of the wind. A pinprick of light spawned in its centre and Kun had to shield his eyes from it, hiding in the crook of his elbow while his other hand was still clamped close to his chest.

“No! No! Fuck you, Qian Kun!” Huang Renjun shrieked, until… silence. Everything was still. Kun sat up, dizziness wracking his senses. For the first time since the whole ordeal began, he felt something similar to calm. The room was quiet, still, and empty, save for himself. The demon he had summoned was gone. Huang Renjun was gone. The quiet disoriented him; he felt like it had been a while since he truly experienced quiet.

Kun picked up his knife once again and cut along the bottom of his shirt, wrapping the material tightly around his stub of a finger in an attempt to slow the bleeding. He felt faint - he knew he’d lost a substantial amount of blood. He stood, staggering out of his bombsite of a classroom and stumbling into the hallway. He bent, heaving onto the floor, bile burning his throat and mouth. He probably needed to get to a hospital, but how would he explain himself?

Kun felt a pat on his back - a warm, comforting gesture. Wiping saliva from his mouth and chin, he looked up, and found himself staring into a pair of friendly brown eyes, surrounded by aged wrinkles. Something inside Kun simply knew that he was a kind figure, a peaceful figure.

“It’s gone now, son,” the old man spoke, his voice croaky. Kun merely stared at him, wide-eyed, as he talked. “I’ve had students like that one before. They feed on your energy, eat away at you. Look into your past to find the best way to torture you. But it’s gone now. It’s gone.”

Kun stood up straight, or as straight as he could manage in his current condition. He didn’t recognise the teacher standing before him. “Who are you?” he panted, squinting at the other man.

“Don’t worry about me, son, I’m long gone” the man responded with a wry smile. “I taught here long, long ago. Just listen to me - my God, son, if you take notice of one thing in your life, let it be this -” the man leaned in close to whisper in Kun’s ear. Kun closed his eyes, listening as closely as he could despite his faltering consciousness. “When you involve yourself with something like this, sometimes they come back.”

When Kun opened his eyes again, the man was gone.

Kun wobbled outside, breathing in the night air as if he’d been deprived of oxygen for weeks. It was over, the weight on his chest was gone. He could breathe. He could live. All he could do now was pick up the pieces. But the old man’s words echoed in his mind,

Sometimes they come back.

85 notes · View notes

everlarkedalways · 3 years

Note

LOVED your thoughts about the urn symbolism post peeta crush confession.... ive been mulling over the jesus/savior symbolism others have remarked on being tied to peeta and i will have to check the text but it occurred to me this could be referencing the "peter denies christ 3x " before crucifixion story. Obviously there are multiple times katniss emotionally cuts herself off from peeta but i wonder if it is 3 or a multiple of 3? She sort of does after the reaping, and then on the train (when she throws the cookies out the window) and maybe this is the third one pre-arena ? 👀

also the wound being on the hand referencing jesus' stigmata (aka hand wounds from the cross) ? and as you mentioned, the cracking of the urn meaning peeta will not die due to his love for k etc . Ive always been super fascinated by spiritual symbolism and actually majored in art history because of it so i'm really nerding out here 😎

Alsooo do u think katnisss giving him the hand injury makes peeta look tougher and more able to successfully infiltrate the careers as haymitch alludes to ? i wonder if that is when they came up with that plan? i think its a stroke of genius for him to ally with them bc he can protect her more and gain intel about them and he has an affable jock facade he can switch on. 🧐 thanks for doing the pod and so enjoying this reread . I have peripherally been aware of these in the past but i have gotten back into everlark again in the past year and been rereading all my fave fics from the past heyday of the fandom ❤️

I love religious symbolism in literature! I did think there at tie-ins and Peeta's hands were something I thought pointed to that as well.

I also really love and studied Renaissance art and all its ridiculous amounts of symbolism!

I like your train of thought about the Careers and I'm sure that it helped pets to a certain extent. Although, it seems that they have such extensive medical technology in the Capitol, don't you think they could've healed him before the Games? Or is it more the opportunity to have a weakened player?

Thank you so much for joining us and listening in to the pod! ❤🍞

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leviskokoro · 4 years

Text

Mari In Twisted Wonderland | Abridged Version | Savanaclaw

Chapter 2

Days after the Overblot Incident and Revenge Unbirthday Party, Mari gets another dream and this time it’s about the furries-- I mean, animals. She didn’t really get what it meant.

Lunch happened and Ruggie stole Grim’s lunch. Mari was confused but then they were called to the Headmaster’s office so she couldn’t question it.

Crowley explained shit to the shared brain cell trio and Mari. Blah blah blah. Grim got upset that he can’t play magift and show off. Mari rationalized with him that he won’t be able to show off if he’s only a beginner and that she’ll treat him to canned tuna to cheer him up. He seemed to be having a terrible day, getting his lunch stolen and then being told he can’t participate in a sports event.

She asked Crowley if he was searching for a way home but quickly realizes that he didn’t seem to be doing it. Though, she didn’t really say anything about it since the demon brothers were probably looking for a way to get her back.

Then they got back to their dorms later but Crowley came to visit and explained that students were getting injured and shit was real sus since there were a lot of them. Grim told him that he didn’t want to help but he pretty much just forced them by saying the Ramshackle Dorm wasn’t free. He also bribed Grim by saying he’d let him participate in the magift tournament. Though, Mari was aware that he was lying through his teeth. However, she said nothing since she didn’t want to break Grim’s spirit again. Plus, she was going to help regardless of the situation. Might as well be helpful while she’s stuck in there.

So the investigation started. They looked in the infirmary and Mari noticed that there were no Savanaclaw students that were injured but figured that maybe the culprit hasn’t got to them yet. Then they interrogated two injured students from Heartslabyul and they didn’t get any helpful answers so they tried looking for more clues. Only to fail and go back to the Ramshackle Dorm.

Ace visited and they explained the situation to him. But then Deuce ran in and yelled about how Trey got injured too. So they ran to the Heartslabyul dorm and saw him.

Mari was genuinely proud of Grim for being nice enough to give Trey the can of tuna she bought for him earlier in order to cheer him up.

Riddle came by to check on Trey and then explained how he got injured. Then Cater pulled everyone excluding Trey to a different room and let Mari tell them about the other injured students.

So, the Heartslabyul gang + Grim and Mari went to investigate together and saw the Pomefiore Dorm, which was probably Mari’s favorite dorm so far. It was certainly pretty.

And now for Mari’s first impression of Rook: “Dang he kinda hot”

Rook will remember that

Then the rest of the gang decided that he didn’t look strong enough so the culprit probably wouldn’t wanna target him, then went on to Octavinelle to see the tweels.

First impression of the tweels as she and the rest ran for their dear lives: “Jesus fuck they’re creepy”

They escaped and Mari finally remembered what she noticed about the injured students again. “Savanaclaw might be the next targets since there weren’t any injured students from there”

So they got to the Savanaclaw Dorm and met Jack. She was like “oh you’re the hot furry” and he was like “excuse me?” Then he tells them that he won’t be targetted and that they should fuck off.

Then they got in trouble with Savanaclaw delinquents and Leona and Ruggie came. Leona recognized Mari as the herbivore that stepped on his tail. The delinquents get angry but he still drinks respecc women juice and just challenges the gang to magift. Since Mari had no magic, she had to sit this one out.

She goes home and sleeps, but then realizes she can’t and decides to have a midnight walk because she hasn’t seen enough horror movies to know that’s not the best idea. Then she meets Malleus. Probably thinks he’s the hottest guy she’s seen in NRC besides Leona and Jamil.

“Oh, you are a child of man” “And you’re a man with horns”

She isn’t particularly intimidated by him. Like— She’s met Lucifer and has been nearly killed by him twice. Some strange dude with horns got nothin’ on him. Mari asked who he is and he seemed to be surprised by that, then he smirked.

Dude said it would be better if she didn’t know and let her call him whatever she wanted. She was like “Aight” then he left.

Mari goes to sleep and has another dream. She wonders why she’s having another dream about animals and why does the lion look familiar. Then she woke up, wondering what it meant. Barbatos was rather vague when he gave her his parting gift.

On the way to school with Grim, she told him about the Tall handsome dude with horns. He dubbed him “Tsunotarou”. She liked the name a lot and decided to use it.

They meet up with Cater and Riddle, who tell them that Jamil got injured. So they go meet him.

‘Ah fuck his voice is hot too’ Mari thought when she met him. It seemed that she was right about Kalim, he was quite friendly.

So they finally found out about Ruggie but couldn’t catch him. Then Jack appeared again. He’s like “Why are you working so hard for other people’s sake?”

Ace is like “Lmao we just wanna get picked for the magift tournament and show off. We don’t give a shit about these guys.”

Mari sighed and said, “Why is literally everyone in this school so selfish?” And Jack questions her as to her reason for doing it. Then she replies with “Well-- Crowley kinda said that living in the Ramshackle Dorm wasn’t free. Though, he didn’t really have to force me since I would’ve helped regardless because I just like feeling helpful.”

Then Jack told the shared braincell trio that they’re worse than he thought. Though, he also mentioned that he didn’t trust Mari’s type. As in, “Guys that just do things for others”

Ace was like “no u”

Then Jack was like “Fight me bitch. If you want me to spill my guts, you gotta defeat me”

Deuce went bad boy like “fuck yeah lets go dude” and they fight

And they win. The rest of the guys are surprised that Mari knows how to fight. She’s like “The Future King of Hell taught me martial arts for like a year” and they’re not sure whether she’s being serious or if she’s crazy.

And then Jack went into this whole spiel about how cowardly tricks make him nauseous and how he wanted to use his own power to claim victory at the top. Then he finally spills the beans on what Ruggie’s unique magic is and how Savanaclaw is in on the plan.

“Why would they?” “How well you do in the magift tournament can have a big impact on your future, right? So I can’t say I don’t understand their feelings”

“GRRRRRRRRRRRR”

Mari is like “Dude, chill. Understanding someone doesn’t mean you agree with them.”

Jack replied with “The now comes before the future! Show what you can do now!”

Then goes onto yet another spiel about how he can’t stand Leona and how that guy is amazing but never gives his full effort.

Ace whispers to Mari like “Damn he tsundere for his own dorm leader”

And Jack tells them that Savanaclaw is going to target the dorm leader of Diasomnia, Malleus Draconia during the day of the magift tournament.

Riddle and Cater come by like “Lol thanks for telling us” Then Riddle was going to tell them the plan but Jack was like “bitch im not gonna help. Im gonna do this shit myself. Bye”

Mari countered with “What have you accomplished on your own?”

He’s just >:(

“Smart wolves hunt as a pack” “Ugh fine. But if your plan sucks, I’m leaving.”

So after hearing Riddle out, he’s like “Aight I’ll help.”

Everyone came to an agreement and went to their respective dorms. Mari has another dream, then thought “Bruh he really wanted to be king then when he became king, he didn’t even do it right.”

“Oi, wake up.”

Mari felt someone shake her awake. She groaned and swatted away the hands, wanting to sleep more. It didn’t quite register in her mind that someone broke into her room. It was only until her blanket was tugged away from her. The cool air hit her bare body. She shuddered and her eyes finally fluttered open to see Jack with a flustered expression before he threw the blanket over her body.

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NAKED?!”

“WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!”

“Tch.” He looked away and rubbed his neck. “I came from my morning run to wake you up early. I couldn’t let you oversleep on the day of the tournament. S-Sorry for breaking into your room…”

Grim perked up and was motivated to go immediately so that he could collect his reward to play in the tournament. “Come on! Let’s go already!”

“Just let me get dressed and I’ll be right with you. Be patient.”

For the rest of that morning, Jack couldn’t look at her directly. When he did, images of that embarrassing situation all came back to his mind

So they got to the stadium. Shit hit the fan but everything was fine because Heartslabyul revealed their plan. Diasomnia is perfectly alright.

Leona got pissed and he revealed his unique magic. Sand is everywhere. He’s trying to kill Ruggie.

Mari is like “Ugh I hate sand”

Jack also revealed his unique magic and turned into a full furry-- I mean, wolf. This surprised Leona, which gave Riddle the opportunity to collar him.

Lilia be spittin facts.

Hearing Leona yell about agony and despair and that things will never change kinda made Mari’s heart hurt because it felt… familiar. How hopeless he seemed to feel. It reminded her of how she was before coming to the Devildom.

Then he overblotted.

Then they beat the sit out of him. Mari is like “Does this usually happen?”

So the magift tournament went on and Savanaclaw still got to play because the injured students wanted revenge. Grim also reminded Crowley about his reward so he was allowed to play against Savanaclaw.

Grim did an oopsie and tried to do a special move but it backfired and hit Mari in the head instead. She had to be rushed to the infirmary.

She woke up to see the shared braincell trio and the furry boys. Ace told her that she’s been asleep for so long that the closing ceremony was over and they’re dismantling the venue.

Leona told her that Diasomnia was the champion.

Ace and Deuce talked about how good Malleus was for a moment. Jack was like “No one can win if they give up before they try.” Mari agreed with him. He then said that he was going to beat Diasomnia fair and square next year.

Leona was like ““Underhanded tactics” require one’s strength too” and she asked if he even felt bad. He was just like lmao no

A wild Babie has appeared. Leona went >:0 but introduced Cheka to them.

Mari squealed at the sight of such an adorable child. Internally she was saying “I’ve seen Cheka for 4 seconds but if anything were ever to happen to him, I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

Jack: So the root of all Leona’s pain is…

Mari: The cutest lil angel ever!

Cheka: Are you guys my uncle’s friends?

Everyone else laughed at Leona except Mari who was busy introducing herself to the lil babie.

Leona will remember that.

Timeskip to when Mari went to sleep and saw the creepy shadow in the mirror. She’s lowkey shook but then she woke up. Seeing the time was pretty early in the morning, she decided to have a lil stroll to see the sun rise.

She found a good spot and sat down, singing lightly to herself.

The sound of leaves being crushed under one’s feet reached her ears from behind her. Mari didn’t bother looking up at the source, being too enamored with seeing the sky as its hues morph from navy to a golden yellow. The dark clouds turned into tangerine and peach ones. She gave a dreamy sigh.

“Oi, Mari.” She heard the gruff voice of Jack. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know, just… Watching that gorgeous sunrise. I’ve lived in a land with no sun for a year so seeing it like this is quite the blessing,” She responded, still not looking up.

“Seriously? I’ve never heard of a place like that.” Jack sat beside her.

“Yeah. Living in Hell was quite the experience but it was fun.” Mari chuckled lightly.

Her words caused him to furrow his eyebrows, wondering if she was kidding or not. He shook his head, deciding that it wasn’t important. He turned to her.

“So… about that time…”

“Hm? What time?” Mari finally looked at him, confusion swirling in her pools of chocolate. She tilted her head.

His face felt warm as the blood rose to his tanned cheeks. “Y-You know what I’m talking about!”

Upon seeing his flustered expression, she finally remembered what he meant. Her mouth formed an ‘o’. What could he possibly gain from bringing that up now?

“I wanted to apologize properly…” He spoke up again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have violated your privacy like that and broke into your room.” He finally had the courage to look back into her eyes. Golden hues meeting chocolate.

“How can I make it up to you?”

Mari saw this opportunity and a smirk crept up onto her lips. “You could make it up to me by letting me pet you.”

He yelped and his eyes widened to the size of saucers. His ears stood erect. “Wh-What?!”

She pouted. “I thought you wanted to make it up to me? This is the least I could ask for after you broke into my room and saw me naked!”

“Okay! Okay! Just don’t yell or someone’s gonna hear you.”

Mari stopped and looked at him with expectations glinting in her eyes.

He leaned downward. His head was lowered and ears curled back, anticipating her touch.

She grinned and laid her hand over his head, caressing it tenderly. “Oh my~ Your hair is quite soft. I see that you groom yourself well, Jack. How nice~” She cooed, continuing to pet him with such pure glee swimming in her chocolate eyes. “How are you liking this? Does it feel nice~?”

“Tch… Just because I’m letting you do this, doesn’t mean I like it,” He told her.

“But your tail is wagging.” She pointed out. Blood spurted to his face and he pulled away.

“Alright, that’s enough!” He exclaimed to her, trying not to show her that he was flustered. “We’re going to be late for school if we don’t hurry.”

Mari glanced at the sun and nodded. “Oh! You’re right. I’ll go wake up Grim and head to class. Thanks again, Jack.”

“Don’t expect me to let you do that again. We’re not friends or anything.” He walked away from her.

A smile graced her lips as she watched him leave with a mirthful gaze. “Alright,” she whispered and made her way to the Ramshackle Dorm.

#mitw : av #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #twst headcanons

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magicflowershop · 4 years

Text

one day kitty; Kita version

《inspired by movie A Whisker Away》

✿✿ you wished to be with the person you like and wish granted. whiskers, button nose, tail, four legs and ears on top of the head; you turned into a cat. with this, you are given the opportunity to be with the person you want to express your affections to. but as a cat. and only in one day.

― haikyuu characters x cat!reader imagines!

❀ masterlist ❀

the wheel of names have spoken.

kita was having a good time by himself in his grandmother’s rice fields, feeling the breeze like the precious farm boi he is,,, when he saw a cat sleeping on a wet patch in the middle of the field

gathering concern for the little cat, he brought him home and decided to clean it up

then you woke up

you felt something scrubbing your back when you open your eyes you see a guy aiming a hose at you

you scream bc obv, but that scream translated into a screech leaving your mouth and you see your hand

homie that was a paw

why do u have a paw?????

"stay still, you might hurt yourself”

and why is there a Kita Shinsuke spraying water at you lmao

you see that he’s kinda annoyed that you’re moving so much while he’s trying to clean you up but at the same time you arent sure since he isnt easy to read and that don’t know him too well rip so you let yourself be cleaned for free ig

but yo what the hell??? so you’re a cat now????

you try to remember what happened before all this and how in the world you suddenly turned into a cat and magically wake up in Kita’s place

you dont know the exact location of his place so you have no idea how to get back home from here

Kita pulled the cat closer to him, and wiping the wet fur with a towel as generously as he could that the cat soon found comfort from his gentle caresses

okay maybe you could stay for a while yk huehue

“you’re having fun”

you hear a familiar voice from a mile away, you look back and see a fat, creepy cat standing on two of its hind feet

o wait

you saw that cat last night when you were watching the shooting star outside,,, you thought it’d be cute if you suddenly wished for something so you did then that thing appeared outta nowhere promising you that he can make your wish come true than compared to a stupid star

so he forced the wish outta you

that you wished to be closer to a guy you admired,, and you had a lot of crushes in your school ykyk,,, just that Kita takes the entire cake

“you have until midnight to remain as a cat. be sure to leisurely fulfill your desires, y/n.”

and so he vanished

while knowing full well you’re basically Cinderella now, you take consideration of your leisure time with Kita-sama

do you stay or do you go home first to check on your household

“oh what do we have here?”

Kita’s grandma entered the scene and you think that okay maybe this development is a little too quick since you weren’t ready to face his relatives yet

“i found this cat in the fields. it looked like it could get sick so i cleaned it”

o yea you were a damn cat

also Kita calls you freakin “it”

pennywise who

you chose to stay in Kita’s place bc grandma thought it’d be lovely to let you stay there for a while,, and that you looked like you were starving when you saw the food on the table

thank goodness you were a cat bc jesus were you actually drooling

so you spent time in Kita’s place big deal

but his place isn’t what you’re aimed for no?

“i’m leaving”

Kita says putting on his shoes, ready to leave and he’s wearing casual clothes,, you don’t think he’s going to school for volleyball practice

IS HE GOING ON A DATE????????????

lmao

as if thats actually true cmon Kita doesn’t even hang out with girls that much,,, even though he prolly has a bunch of admirers like the other Inarizaki Vball bois

but what if he swang that wae?

??????????

so you followed him right?

you wanted to find out where he’s headed also that he looked good in casual clothes you just want to keep looking at him like this

Kita went to the grocery store

and apparently he was buying ingredients to make food

ahh

so you begin to think that you were foolish for lowkey gate-keeping him

like sis cmon you’re a cat rn keep your head in the game,, what do you do with those paws of yours that cant even grab his hand and pull him away when he was about to bump into a girl as he was about to grab a bottle of tomato paste

heck you cant even get inside the damn grocery store and walk in between them cause you’re a fcking cat!!!!!!!!

you watch their mouths say sorries to each other

the girl was blushing

hm?

Kita looked worried that he couldve hurt her since the hag was coverin her face

nani k

n̸̢̪̜͚͑́̾́̑̋ á̴̠̜̳͖̼̃͗̚͘͠ͅ n̵̼͙͇̻̹̓͜͜ i̷̥̲̻̪͈̞̙̩͛̾̅̓͝͝͠ ̶̨̡̜̞̟͆̿̈́͜ḵ̶̂̓̀̚ o̶͎͛̋̋̊͋̊̅̈̅ͅ r̶͙̮̱͊̎͠ ę̷̺̪͎͈̗̖̯̣͍͒͊̒͆͂̈́͛́̒̃

you started tapping the glass windows like mad SKSKD

and ofc since you’re a stray animal ppl wont let u get away with absolutely anything so one personnel saw you tapping the windows and shouted at you from inside the store

Kita and the hag saw you and yea that was enough embarrassment for the day, you ran away and let your feet take you wherever

its a bit boring that since its a weekend there’s nothing to do,, you never expected that Kita’s weekends would be this boring too :(

so the creepy cat appeared

“what’s wrong you dont seem to be enjoying yourself anymore”

“turn me back to human i need to finish my homework”

maybe thats not the most liable excuse you have but it is true that you need to finish an assignment

“but i gave you a chance to be with the person you admire, no? is this not enough?”

“yea well its-”

“here you are”

you feel someone pick you up and you see that it was Kita:0he must’ve looked for you since you dont even know where you are

oh my god Kita Shinsuke looked for you ma’am eye- or mayhaps you took the route back to his house without knowing since you were busy staring at him when you were stalking him earlier ye

you watched how he looked at the creepy cat you were talking to and and judged it from head to hind feet lmao Kita

“do you have the same owner as this cat?”

he asked you and you gave out every ounce of your energy to shake your head as a no as well as to let out the most disgusted and disapproval meow you ever could-

“the hell would i want to be acquainted with that thing!”

what

no way did u just speak

so Kita stared at you for the remainder of the time but decided you speaking isnt physically possible and that he could’ve been real tired since he saw the Miya twins along the way

he took you back home since his grandma seemed to be real happy seeing a little animal in the house with them

but you didnt miss to see the little knowing smile from the creepy cat from earlier, you just knew from that alone that he was messing with you since as you said you were bored

it was wrong of you to talk to that lil disgusting thing

since that moment you refused to speak with your mouth every again, if you were going to speak thought you would probably just purposely say meow only to not make anymore mistakes

also you’re spending a lot of time with Kita’s grandma than Kita himself

“i wonder what your future spouse is doing at this moment, Shin-kun”

Kita looked like he wanted to roll his eyes so bad lmao since he always hears things about his grandma wanting to see his wedding before she dies :c

and yk it makes you sad too just hearing about this

and you want to help 😔

and you would offer help 😌

they heard the cat speak and now you’re running away bc they heard you talk about wanting to marry Shinsuke 🤡

the day ended and you managed to go home before the sun set basically nothing happened and your transformation was all for nuttin, you were bamboozled by a demon cat you randomly saw one night

the next day you were back to your human self and it was a school day so ofc you have to live on normally in school as if nothing happened, as if you didnt just stalk a guy from your school but we’ll get to that

see, you’re friends are friends with a few of the guys from your school’s volleyball team,,, so you’re within vicinity of Kita’s attention

when you explicitly did not want to see him atm

BUT THEN YOU REMEMBER YOUR FRIENDS KNOW YOU LIKE KITA

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU DO NOW

you decided to run away but you realize that’s useless bc you’re all going home together :D

now you weren’t the crowds type of person,, you had no idea how it come to this, you’re used to hanging out with your girlfriends yes but they were having fun altogether like this it was fun just watching them goof off and whatnot

“hey”

when i told you you’re almost dropped the second you hear Kita calling to you, you best believe

you said hey but in a different tone of voice bc it was too early for him to notice you had the same voice as the cat he saw yesterday,,, then you both walked in silence

you couldnt take it anymore and decided to go to the nearest convenience store since you had something you want to buy,, you went and whispered this to your friends but when they were asking you to let your voice out, you were deadass croaking

but then you clown yourself sum more bc Kita was concerned of you acting like this and asked if you were alright

now you’re stuck with him in the convenience store bc your friends and his friends thought it’d be a great idea for him to go with you :D

“you should eat something warm before going to sleep, and take a warm bath too”

:((((((

okay now you feel bad for actually making him worry lol

your alibi of getting sick works really well with not speaking at all around him so you used this till the end thinking you can escape him with this until it rained and you dont have an umbrella with you

aight y/n you’re one hell of a clutz

Kita was enough of a gentleman to buy an umbrella for you until its actually out of stock

you guys stayed in the convenience store for the time being

you were losing your mind

how much longer will you stay with him

you thought of an alibi to save you from the embarrassment so you told him you gotta jet and go back to school bc you forgot to bring your notebook with you

but now you realize you realize you didnt have to tell him bc he’ll still follow you as if his life depends on taking care of you :(

after you randomly stormed out of the convenience store, he caught up to you and pulled you somewhere where there’s a roof over

“are you usually this reckless? or do you just like getting yourself sick?”

homie does not hold back

he pulled a spare shirt from his back and put it on your head,, proceeding to wipe your wet hair with it until he realized he’s subconsciously invading your personal space

he looked right at you, so you two were standing there,,, staring,, his hands on both sides of your head,,,,, both of y’all are wet hunni

he let go and turned the other way,,, the darkness wasnt dark enough to conceal his red cheeks and hunni you made him blush aight

“you reminded me of a cat i saw yesterday im sorry about that”

“you dont have to apologize”

o sis you did it now

you s p o k e

so Kita was beyond surprised to hear that voice again,,,, and this time from yOU,, ALL NORMAL,, NO FROGS

“i, i can explain”

he looked at you confused, hell was he so confused, that you sounded exactly like the voice he randomly heard yesterday which made him think that came from the cat,, he didnt think that was physically possible bc yk but the embarrassment from your face was enough for him to guess

“did you really say you’re willing to marry me”

gOD

“i mean,,, i don’t mind”

“grandma would be glad”

stay tuned for more!

#walk in my garden #i always change things up a lil bit lmao #hope you guys are keeping up #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! drabbles #haikyuu!! smau #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu!! x reader #kita #shinsuke kita #kita shinsuke #kita x y/n #kita x reader #inarizaki #one day kitty

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Urgent Exit Required (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

fic summary: "She’d always thought, really, how bad could a relationship between two colleagues ever be?

She supposes now, standing on the flyover with a rifle in her hand, she sees exactly why that rule is in place. Usually she has problems falling for straight girls, this time her error’s been falling for a bent one."

(In which Lawrence works in anti-corruption, and Ellie is the corrupt officer wrapped up in an organised crime gang.)

a/n: please in the name of Jesus, Mary and Joseph and the wee donkey, read the trigger warnings!!!!

this is a Line of Duty AU based entirely off of the final episode of season 3 because apparently i'm unable to consume any media without turning it into a fic! big big thanks to Juno who was chill about me posting this as she's also concieved of a Line of Duty AU that looks like it'll be AMAZING so keep an eye out for that!!

if you enjoyed then feel free to leave some love, even if it's just to scream at me xo

trigger warnings: because it's based off a gritty tv show, please be mindful that this fic features gun violence, injury and death (to be absolutely clear: one of them dies) so if you feel this fic is not for u then don't force it and please click off it!

if uv made it this far then pls enjoy this heavy slice of angst that has absolutely 0 grounding in reality whatsoever xo

***

Lawrence doesn’t think she’s ever been more aware of her heart than she is now.

She means that in every sense. Physically, it’s all she can feel; it’s swollen in her ribcage as it batters in her chest, working overtime to keep up with the adrenaline that’s coursing through her veins like a forest fire as she pounds across the dual carriageway, hurdles over the central reservation and sprints past cars as though they’re nothing less than flies that simply need swatted away. She’d normally conduct more of a mental risk-assessment before essentially playing professional chicken on a busy main road. She’d normally think through every move carefully; strategise, stack up the options, Sherlock in slow-motion. It’s what’s got her to where she is today, but today isn’t a normal day. And where she is now is on a road bridge, positioning an AR-15 onto a high railing so it looks down onto a near-silent residential street. The blood’s roaring in her ears and her mouth’s so dry that she can taste the inexplicable tang of metal and her heart , Jesus Christ she never knew it could beat this fast.

Lawrence has been in situations like this before. It’s not like she’s never held a gun; in anti-terror she’d become as desensitized to them as one human could be, and she’s come to regard them as a grim necessity to her job just like her badge, her lanyard, her pocketbook. As stress levels- adrenaline levels- go, she’s been exposed to her fair share. High speed chases, hurtling through the city in a Vauxhall with an ART on her way to arrest a potentially dangerous criminal. She’s been ambushed in a warehouse and tied to a chair and had her hand forced into a vice by a gang of men in balaclavas, and that still , as insane as it sounds, didn’t have her heart beating like it is just now.

Because this is all different. Because she knows it’s only a matter of time before that car appears, and she knows who’s travelling in the passenger seat.

She’s not religious, so she hopes instead of prays. For what, she doesn’t know.

For both of them to come out of this alive, perhaps.

***

It’s always strange to watch one of their own crack in the interview chair. The bravado they begin with, the smug cushioning of their own status within the ranks rendering them completely disbelieving of the idea they could ever be brought down.

Then comes the little telltale signs. The sipping of the water, the clearing of the throat. The slight pause that starts to come before their answers, on stage in the middle of the dress run forgetting their script and the only lines they’ll be fed are the standard infuriating “no comment”. And then comes the shattering of the glass. When the three of them kick down the sandcastle and watch it crumble and whichever bent bastard they’re charging this time leaves with their tail between their legs and metal around their wrists.

Except it’s not the three of them. It’s just Superintendent Black and DC Chaney. Because DS Boyle (Aurora), her colleague (her friend), is being held in a cell. Framed for the armed robbery she hasn’t organised, framed for the attempted murder of a woman Lawrence knows she’d never even so much as say a bad word about, let alone lay a hand on. The fake number plates on her car, the drug money banknotes found in the boot.

Things that Lawrence would never in her wildest nightmares have considered Ellie Diamond to be capable of orchestrating. Things that don’t match up with the Ellie who bought her coffee and left it on her desk in time for her starting work. The Ellie that wrote shite jokes on pink post-its and stuck them to her monitor (What do you call a happy penguin? A pen-grin). The Ellie that held her close and whispered condolences and apologies and words of comfort after they’d interviewed and arrested Aurora.

Lawrence has tried to separate the two in her mind, but she knows she can’t. She knows that the Ellie she’s come to know and the Ellie that’s done all these things are one and the same, and that’s still something she’s trying to wrap her brain around. But she’s in the chair in front of her in a muted baby pink suit, the colour clashing so violently with the matter at hand, with her solicitor and a glass of water and her pink acrylics tapping against the table, and she’s cracking just like they always do. The evidence against her is piling up, and suddenly she is just another criminal.

Joe leans forward against the desk, eyes narrowing. “DI Diamond, I think we have earned the right to ask you the question...will you kindly tell us your whereabouts between ten and eleven am on the morning of the fifteenth?”

The morning that Tayce Szura-Radix was struck by Aurora’s car in a brutal hit-and-run. The morning Tayce had thought she was about to meet Aurora. The morning that Tayce emailed Joe a list of names linked to the OCG. They all know it wasn’t a coincidence.

The morning that confirmed all of Lawrence’s worst fears.

Ellie holds Joe’s gaze, the stubborn glint in her eyes contrasting with the tense energy she’s emanating from every pore. There’s a silence before she answers in which Lawrence holds her breath.

“I don’t think I need to answer that question.”

The urge Lawrence fights to roll her eyes is a battle between David and Goliath.

“Don’t you?” Joe smiles patiently at her, blinks calmly in an almost reptilian way. Joe knows they’ve not played their ace yet, and the pair of them have got all the time in the world.

(Well, they don’t. They’ve got an hour until Aurora is either charged or released, and it’s looking like it’ll be the former. Lawrence can’t let that happen, even if it is Ellie in the chair opposite her.)

“It’s a voluntary interview,” Ellie explains. Her voice is fast and breathy as she speaks again, almost choked with nerves. “And I’m only here because it’s my lawful duty as a police officer to assist in a criminal enquiry.”

“Of course, DI Diamond, of course you are,” Joe nods, calm and placating. “In fact, we can stop this interview right now if you like, but of course it would leave this question hanging over you, hanging over your career. Or you could do the honourable thing and offer us an answer. Exclude yourself from our enquiries. That’s assuming you have nothing to hide.”

Ellie looks down at the table, frozen for a moment in time. She looks to her solicitor as if he’s the last liferaft off the Titanic, leans over to him for advice. What she receives doesn’t even seem as if it’s the equivalent of a rubber duck from the way she reaches across for her glass of water again, sips for a second, clears her throat.

As she leans back in her chair and folds her arms, Lawrence finds herself wondering if Ellie’s ever played poker. She hopes she hasn’t, for her dignity’s sake if nothing else.

“I was at my flat,” she says quickly, as if she’s trying to make up for the time she’s spent in silence. “I was on surveillance until late the night before, and I slept late.”

Lawrence’s heart jumps as Joe continues questioning.

“So you were in during those hours.”

Ellie nods quickly. “Yes.”

Lawrence can’t help herself. She’s bitten her tongue through most of the interview, not trusting herself to speak. Silence is a virtue she rarely possesses, and somehow she’s managed to keep her resolve til now. But whatever Ellie was to her before, whatever her feelings were (are?), she’s still a detective that’s being handed an opportunity to catch a criminal on a silver platter.

“Say that again,” Lawrence says, calm but insistent. When Ellie’s gaze is ripped from Joe to fall onto her, Lawrence can’t read her expression. Her mouth moves slightly as if she’s about to speak, then clearly elects not to.

Lawrence keeps her own face blank as she continues, no telltale signs of her broken heart on display. “You’ve just said you were in your flat between ten and eleven am on the fifteenth. We’ve got that on tape.”

Ellie’s eyes dart between Lawrence and Joe. “Wh…”

Joe, for her part, is still fixing Ellie with that patient expression. “It’s a very simple matter, DI Diamond-”

“No, no. DI Diamond’s already answered the question,” Lawrence interrupts, leaning forward against the desk. She selfishly allows an angry glint to appear in her eye, one that sets off a flicker of fear in Ellie’s in turn. “Haven’t you?”

Ellie’s like a statue as she stares at Lawrence, unable to answer. The only sign she’s still sentient is her sporadic blinking with her long lash extensions that Lawrence examines every detail of as she continues to stare at her. Eyes that Lawrence had once looked into and felt butterflies that now only turn her stomach in the worst of ways.

“You’ve mentioned, when questioned, something you later intend to rely on. In court,” Lawrence states, the ‘t’ of ‘court’ bouncing through gritted teeth and making Ellie’s gaze dart back to Joe, clearly a less threatening option.

There’s a silence where Ellie sits, slack-jawed and cornered, before she shakes her head, rubbing her perfectly made up face with her hands quickly. “No, look...I might have made a mistake, just...give me a second to think.”

“Take your time, DI Diamond,” Joe says, humouring her. They both know there’s no hope for Ellie to pull an alibi out of her ass at this stage of the game.

“I’d been up late, so I…” Ellie stammers.

Even after everything, Lawrence still fights the urge to feel sorry for her.

There’s a moment where Ellie freezes for a second, then looks to Joe with what appears to be renewed confidence. She reaches into the inside pocket of her suit jacket, pulls out her phone.

Lawrence narrows her eyes, question marks immediately appearing in her mind.

“If I just check my phone...you know, times of texts I sent and that. That’ll probably help me remember…” Ellie mutters, looking down into the screen.

She keeps staring at it. Her finger is poised over something, something she’s waiting to press. Something she’s waiting to send? Immediately there’s a red flag wrapped around Lawrence’s thoughts.

Ellie’s eyes are stuck to her phone as she opens her mouth again.

“You wouldn’t, um. You wouldn’t have gone into my flat that morning, Lawrence?”

The red flag is joined by alarm bells. She knows. She knows that Lawrence knows that she wasn’t in her flat that morning. Lawrence can see Joe look to her, but she’s not answering. Instead, she’s got her eyes on that phone just as much as Ellie. Watching. Waiting.

And then Ellie’s finger hits the screen and she looks up at Lawrence. There’s an assurance to her gaze that Lawrence doesn’t like. “Like...alone?”

Lawrence isn’t answering her. She doesn’t owe her anything. They’re staring at each other- no warmth, just steel- and it’s so intense that Lawrence almost doesn’t hear anything.

But then there’s the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking outside that cuts through the silence. The starting pistol for all hell breaking loose.

***

Lawrence supposes a lot can happen in a minute. She rests the rifle against the railing of the bridge, flicks the safety off with her thumb and holds her breath as she waits for the blacked-out Range Rover to appear from its hiding place within the identical red brick houses. She wonders how she'll live with herself if her shot hits Ellie. She's a good aim, but she's not that good. Regardless, if the car appears she's taking the shot, decision-making process be damned.

She also supposes a lot can happen in a year. Ellie's transfer from the AC-9 Witness Protection Department to AC-12 in order for her to help aid the investigation into the ambush of former DI Tayce Szura-Radix was an unwelcome one at first. It had always been Lawrence, Joe and Aurora, the dream team with insurmountable trust in each other. A new girl from outside that circle wasn't exactly going to assimilate well into that, no matter how cheerful or friendly she was.

Or how beautiful.

But, little by little, Ellie fell in with the department as naturally as the seasons changed. The more interviews Lawrence conducted with Ellie she got to see how sympathetic she could be towards victims and indeed how steadfast and unforgiving she could be with witnesses. The more time Lawrence worked with Ellie she got to see how efficient she was, the quick turnaround on any of her tasks and the way she followed up enquiries like a dog with a scent easily impressing her. The more late-night surveillance ops they spent together Lawrence got to find out how funny Ellie was, the other girl making her snort with hysterical laughter as they played silly games of snog, marry, avoid in the lull between any suspicious activity.

The thing is, there’s only so much time someone can spend with a girl like Ellie before they start to fall for her. At least that’s Lawrence’s theory, although maybe she’s just talking from experience. As much as she’s committed to her career and as much as she wants to rise through the ranks (and yeah, she’s earned the right to boast about how much she’s achieved so young), she’s still a lesbian in her twenties who’s never had a girlfriend. Okay, she’d never do what Aurora did and spark up something with a witness and disgraced corrupt officer, even though she supposes it doesn’t matter now that poor Tayce is fighting for her life in a hospital bed, God love her. But she’d always thought, really, how bad could a relationship between two colleagues ever be?

It hurts to remember. As much as those memories of falling for Ellie make her happy, they’re tainted now. Knowing the girl she’s fallen for could’ve ended someone else’s life. Knowing how much she’s wrapped up in armed robberies, drug trafficking, organised crime. But there’s still the ridiculous part of Lawrence that screams, she’s just a pawn. She’s not to blame. She’s small fry, and there’s bigger fish out there.

Fighting past those thoughts and digging deep, Lawrence narrows her eyes at the street below her and curls her finger around the trigger. A lot can happen in a minute. A lot of memories can fly through her head.

***

It all happens so fast. One guard turning his firearm on another outside the interview room and then shooting through the glass walls, the gunshots loud and pummeling Lawrence’s ears as she ducks down under the desk. When they stop, she can only look up to see Ellie sprinting over the carpet of broken glass, running across the office with the guard following behind her. Not in pursuit. As protection.

Lawrence doesn’t think. She dashes up from behind the desk, snatches up the assault rifle from beside the guard who’s bleeding out on the ground and sprints after Ellie, only stopping to snatch up her tactical vest and shrug it on whilst she’s running.

She is not letting her get away.

As she leaves, Lawrence can hear Joe shouting; ordering someone to CPR the wounded guard, to lock down the building. When Lawrence reaches the balcony of the atrium just before she takes the stairs, she can see Ellie hurtling through the main doors, the police officer following behind her pointing his gun at anyone in their way.

She can’t believe Ellie’s wrapped up in all this. Still, that’s the nature of the job. Sometimes it’s the ones that were blatantly bent from the start, sometimes it’s the ones you’d never expect. Sometimes it’s the girls who wear the diamante hair clips and sing along to the radio in the office and squeeze your hand with a gentle smile when you’re tired and flagging. Life’s not like the kids’ movies Ellie loves so much, the bad guys aren’t always clear cut. Although she supposes Ellie’s the perfect modern-day Disney twist-villain if ever there was one.

As Lawrence runs out into the street her heart sinks to find that Ellie and the guard are already a fair distance down the road, their guns ensuring that shocked passers-by leap out of their way quickly. She doesn't think she's going to be able to catch them on foot, and her mind makes the risk assessment of trying to shoot at them in such a public setting.

The truck that's fast approaching on the road makes the decision for her.

Lawrence runs out into the street, wielding her badge (as if the driver can see it from high up in his cab) but luckily the truck stops anyway, and she hoists herself up to cling to the side door, commands the driver to follow Ellie and the guard as fast as he can and not to stop.

The driver obeys and Lawrence shouts directions at him through the window as Ellie frantically pounds the pavements in the rapidly decreasing distance. The lorry keeps up well thanks to the lack of traffic lights on the road, and Lawrence eventually hops off as Ellie sprints down a pedestrianised side street with the guard at her tail.

Lawrence narrows her eyes, aims…

And then a family steps into her path. Dad, Mum, boy, girl. Perfect little nuclear setup smack bang in front of her target line. Lawrence curses loudly, sprints past them and down the scrub of industrial wasteland parallel to the one Ellie disappeared down with the guard. With a pang to her heart, Lawrence considers the barren dirt that frames the path and the washed-out colours that surround her. Old warehouses and scrap metal and the brown of old grass. Insipid and sepia and so Not Ellie.

She skids to a halt, though, when she sees two figures running across the way; baby pink suit, firearms uniform. They’ve slowed to a jog now, it’s no longer the fast-paced marathon it was before. Lawrence takes advantage of their unsuspecting position, and she cocks her gun as she shouts from the distance between them.

“Armed police!”

Both of them whip their heads round as they freeze in fear, and as the guard aims his own gun Lawrence fires two shots towards him in panic. She knows any injury (or death, God forbid) would be lawful, but it never makes it any easier. The guard falls to the ground, disarmed and no longer a threat.

And then it’s just her and Ellie.

Ellie’s got her glock trained on Lawrence as she stands rooted to the spot, blinking at her with those huge lashes and breathing heavily. Her eyes are wide and frantic, panicked. She shouldn’t be in charge of a gun.

“Drop your weapon!” Lawrence shouts, adjusting the gun for emphasis.

“Drop yours!” Ellie retorts childishly, not backing down in any sense. It’s fitting, Lawrence supposes, that they’re still bickering to the bitter end.

They could both fire at each other. Well, Ellie could fire at her. But as Lawrence keeps her aim steady, Ellie suddenly drops her arm to her side, sprints off as fast as she’s able down the alley again. Lawrence could shoot her like she did the guard. But the evidence Ellie can give is too valuable, too precious. She needs her alive.

And as Lawrence runs after her in pursuit, she pretends that’s the only reason she’s sparing her.

***

Selfishly, Lawrence allows herself to think about what could’ve been. She still judges herself heavily for how much she thinks about that night; the night of Ellie’s commendation award, when Ellie had been tipsy off free champagne and Lawrence had been drunk off just walking her home, the pair of them sharing a styrofoam carton of chips with their arms linked together. Ellie had been wearing this mid-length silver dress that seemed to drip with little jewels, and the way she sparkled under the streetlights had matched the stars in the sky and the twinkle in her eyes as she agreed with Lawrence about how these didn’t compare to the chips in Scotland.

As the empty carton was chucked in a bin, Ellie had begun to chat about how much she missed her home city. She told Lawrence about how she’d always dreamt of opening a hair and beauty salon on the high street in Dundee, or maybe even moving to Glasgow and opening it there. Her lips had taken on a dreamy, wistful smile as she spoke about how she’d wanted to paint the outside pink and have hanging baskets with plastic flowers hanging over the windows. How she’d keep glass jars full of sweets on top of the desk and a gingham-patterned feature wall where she’d take pictures of her clients’ hair for Instagram.

“And then I became a police officer,” Ellie had laughed humourlessly, and Lawrence hadn’t missed the disappointment in her tone. It had been Ellie’s big night, a highlight of her career. A commendation for defending herself alone against a member of the OCG with a firearm.

(Lawrence now knows that the situation had been manipulated to fit Ellie’s agenda and that self-defence couldn’t have been further from the truth.)

But it didn’t make sense that Ellie had been so hung up on this pipe dream of owning a hair salon.

“So why didn’t you?” Lawrence had tilted her head, struck by the beauty of the girl by her side all over again.

Ellie had turned to blink in confusion at her, Lawrence immediately snapping her gaze to the pavement in a show of uncharacteristic shyness. “Why didn’t I what?”

Lawrence had laughed, unable to resist the urge to poke fun at her friend-slash-colleague-slash-crush. “You are a fuckin’ goldfish! Three-second memory! Why didn’t you open the salon? Y’know. What made you join the force instead?”

When Lawrence looked at Ellie again, there’d been a frown making furrows between her perfectly carved-out eyebrows. There was a pause as their heels continued to clack against the concrete paving slabs of the street, a pause filled with words Ellie hadn’t seemed to be able to say.

“Sometimes life just has different plans for you, I guess.”

Something in her answer had troubled Lawrence but, as ever, she deflected with a joke. The night had been so perfect, and she hadn’t wanted to shatter the unspoiled crystal moment just yet.

“What a classic fuckin’ Ellie Diamond answer. No grand speeches about wanting to protect the vulnerable, no humble brags about wanting to help people, no Miss World speech about preserving life. Just life having other plans. Like your whole career’s been an inconvenience in the way of you getting to play hair salons with people like they’re fuckin’ Barbie dolls.”

Ellie had snorted a giggle, shaking her head as she brought her other arm up to rest in the crook of Lawrence’s elbow. “Playing with Barbie dolls. Girl, I am the Barbie doll!”

Lawrence had laughed along, the smile still on her face as she spoke again. “Nah. She’s plastic and out of proportion. You’re far too pretty to be her.”

“Jesus,” Ellie had muttered, the ghost of a smile still there on her lips. “An actual compliment from DC Chaney. Fuck a commendation, that’s the highlight of the night. Maybe I can take early retirement.”

Lawrence’s heart had fluttered as she’d looked at Ellie with a smirk. “Quite frankly flattered to know a compliment from me means so fuckin’ much to you.”

Ellie had only returned her smirk, a brazen glint in her eye that turned Lawrence’s insides to butter. “Too right, hen.”

Something electric had begun to charge between them from there, something magic and organic and real. Lawrence has spent a lot of time since she discovered Ellie’s involvement in the OCG trying to figure out what between them had been real, and she still argues in favour of the authenticity of that moment. The memory of reaching Ellie’s door and standing beside her as she fumbled under the mat for her spare key (having lost her original somewhere in her clutch bag) is so searing that it almost throws off Lawrence’s concentration. She grits her teeth, trying to ground herself as she adjusts her aim so that it’s right in the middle of the road. Any second now…

But the way Ellie had looked at her from under her lashes with a coy smile on her face when Lawrence had asked her if she’d had a good night still remains branded in her mind.

“I mean, apart from the fact I had to spend it with you,” she’d teased, laughing as Lawrence’s mouth had dropped open in outrage. “...yeah. I had a good night.”

“Stop talking shite. I was the highlight of your evening,” Lawrence had poked her in the arm, stupidly delighting in the way Ellie giggled in response.

“Yeah, a chippy in the middle of the street! You really know how to charm a lady. Remind me why you’re single?” Ellie had joked, Lawrence choosing to roll her eyes dramatically instead of growing offended.

“Ellie Diamond, a lady? That’ll be right,” Lawrence had snorted, only prompting Ellie’s grin to grow bigger. “And I’m single by choice, I’ll have you know. Obviously I’ve got lassies throwing themselves at my feet, but none of them meet my outrageously high standards.”

Ellie had giggled, but her laugh had faltered as she’d met Lawrence’s eyes. There’d been something unsure in them, something nervous, but even looking back Lawrence is sure they’d held a certain amount of honesty that couldn’t have been acting.

“I know you’re taking the piss, but honestly…” Ellie had said quietly, breaking eye contact to look down at the ground and the glittery silver heels on her feet. “...I don’t know how you’ve not got girls falling over themselves to be with you. Because, well. Fuckin’ look at you.”

The butterflies in Lawrence’s stomach had sprung to life so hard she’d felt ever-so-slightly ill. Deflecting, she’d shaken her head in self-pity. “Aye, right. Think it’s looking at me that’s causing the problems, doll.”

“Fuck off , Lawrence. Have you seen yourself tonight?” Ellie had laughed breathlessly. Lawrence can still remember how close they’d been, how little distance there was between them.

“Unfortunately.”

Ellie had shaken her head in disbelief, and when she’d moved to take Lawrence’s hands in her own Lawrence still swears the world had stopped turning on its axis. “Oh my God, shut up.”

Maybe that had been another time Lawrence had been so aware of her heart, the way it had thumped violently in her chest in a way that made it seem it was about to give out. She couldn’t stop the way she’d flicked her gaze down to Ellie’s lips for a split-second even if she’d wanted to.

“You gonny make me?”

And just like that Ellie had leaned in and kissed her outside her door in the pitch dark with only the streetlamps to illuminate them, a scene from a movie that Lawrence had always thought only happened to other people. The kiss hadn’t felt fake; the way Ellie had dropped one of Lawrence’s hands to cup her cheek and the intensity after the split-second of initial hesitation had only driven home how much it had seemed to mean to Ellie. How much Lawrence seemed to mean to Ellie.

Lawrence wonders if that’s still true.

Lawrence had known she should’ve pulled away sooner. She knows it would’ve helped maintain the illusion of professionalism, the illusion that the kiss had somehow been a mistake. But the smoke had been cleared and the mirror had been shattered (and Lawrence supposes now she’s got the bad luck to show for it) and she’d kissed back, matched the other girl’s longing because Christ knew she’d wanted the same thing for months.

She’d made sure to pull away first, though, and at least that had been something she’d done right, but the way Ellie had smiled sheepishly at her and loosened her grip on her hand only made Lawrence want to take it all back, hit pause instead of stop and lean in to meet her lips again.

“Sorry,” Lawrence had said, before trying not to pull a face because, Jesus Cartwheeling Christ, Chaney, apologising to the girl right after you kiss her? Nae fuckin’ wonder you’re single.

Ellie, in fairness, had shaken her head. “No, you’re fine. I’m sorry, I know how seriously you take all the regs and stuff-”

“Yeah,” Lawrence had agreed, regret coating her words. “But, y’know, we can...we can see what happens. Who’s to say further down the line…”

“Sure, sure,” Ellie had nodded, smiling as she turned back to her front door, turning the key in the lock and pushing it open ever-so-slightly. “Well. Thanks. For walking me home. And, uh. I’ll see you at work, I guess?”

“Yeah,” Lawrence had nodded, looking from the ground and back to Ellie.

It must have been the way they were looking at each other that had made Ellie begin to lean in again but Lawrence, in all her ridiculous, law-abiding glory, had stepped back awkwardly, not trusting herself to meet Ellie’s lips again only because she knew that once she started kissing her she’d never be able to break away. They’d blushed awkwardly at each other, and as Ellie pushed her front door she smiled gently.

“I do really like you, Lawrence.”

Lawrence hadn’t been able to trust herself to speak in case she said something she’d regret. Instead she’d smiled bashfully at her shoes before Ellie finally said a quiet goodnight, and then Lawrence had disappeared down the road to hail a cab, not daring to turn back and look at Ellie’s door.

She wonders if Ellie meant any of it. Felt any of it at all. If it was all just a plot to get the sad, fat wee lesbian onside, to try and get her into bed so the stupid cow would fall in love with her and tell her all the department’s secrets. She wonders if Ellie closed the door behind her that night and laughed at how simple it had been, made some calls to whoever low-life she reports to and had a good giggle about how easy it was to wrap her round her finger.

But then under the bridge not even two minutes ago…

Well. Ellie had still got in that car and sped away.

Lawrence’s arm is stinging in pain but before she can dwell on it, something enters her line of vision. A blacked-out Range Rover making its way across the road she’s pointing the rifle at.

Her finger is pulling the trigger before she can even pray the bullet doesn’t hit Ellie, and in the distance the car swerves out of control and out of her sight.

***

The first thing Lawrence sees when she rounds the corner is Ellie. Middle of the road, under the bridge, houses on either side. Her blonde hair in her face, mouth slack as she breaths frantically. She’s scrabbling at the screen of her phone with one hand- of course she’s impeded by those fucking pink acrylics- while the other is curled around the glock at her side. Lawrence knows she writes with her right hand. She’s chosen it to send the text, meaning the gun’s in her non-dominant hand.

Lawrence throws all hope of strategic thinking out the window as she skids to a halt, points her own gun at Ellie, and all of a sudden she’s shouting across at her.

“Drop your gun, drop your phone!”

She’s only managed to get two words out when Ellie’s arms switch position and the gun is suddenly trained on her. Her blue eyes are wide and panicked, but her arm’s straight. Steady. The distance between them is metres and yet it seems like nothing at all.

“Lawrence,” she says, her voice flimsy and paper thin and without any conviction. It makes Lawrence’s heart want to crack in two, but it’s past that. It’s already broken, as is her trust.

“They’re not here for you then,” Lawrence sneers, casting a glance down the empty road.

“Not yet,” Ellie scowls, a fresh sense of confidence to her words. “But they will be. So you should run while you still can.”

“I am too fuckin’ shattered to run, drop the gun!” Lawrence insists with a yell, keeping her aim steady despite her heavy breathing.

Ellie’s still got the glock trained on her, but her eyes are filled with something that doesn’t match the hardened criminal image Lawrence has to acquaint herself with. It’s something akin to betrayal, and Lawrence would snort at the audacity if the situation wasn’t so tense.

“You went into my flat that morning. You saw I wasn’t there.”

Lawrence pauses, shrugs slightly. “Not like I needed a battering ram, I knew where you kept the spare key.”

Ellie seems to remember that night as well, judging from the way her stony expression falters and the betrayal on her face only becomes more apparent. “When did you know? About me.”

Lawrence refuses to crack under the kicked puppy expression Ellie’s choosing to deploy. Instead she only hitches her rifle so it’s steady in her grip. “A lady never tells.”

Ellie gives a single snort, regret painted on her face like her perfect makeup. There’s a smirk on her lips and a slight sadness to her gaze as she speaks again. “Well now I see why we never slept together.”

If she wanted to hit Lawrence where it hurts, she’s succeeded. Lawrence pauses before weighing up her tactics, willing that Ellie’s feelings for her were real enough for her own words to touch a nerve.

“Wasn’t that I didn’t want to.”

Ellie falters. The gun’s limp in her hand now, and she takes a few steps towards her before seemingly remembering they’re both holding firearms. “Look, please. Just go before they get here.”

“I get it,” Lawrence disregards her, keeps her talking until the ART (where the fuck is the ART?) can get here before Ellie’s guys can. “Frame Aurora Boyle as the bent copper, as the one who pulled the hit and run on Tayce. She goes down and you can retire at the tender age of...thirteen and three quarters, Adrian fucking Mole. With the emphasis on mole.”

“I'm not bent!” Ellie protests in anguish, beginning to grow visibly upset. She’s cracking just like she’d done in the interview room, only this time it’s ten times harder to watch. “Tayce Szura-Radix was...I had to, she was going to leak the list of names and I...I couldn’t let her do that. It was going to be bribery originally, but then they told me to get rid of her and-”

“And she still managed to hit send on the fuckin’ email before you hit her with the car. So how did that work out for you?” Lawrence bites back bitterly. Ellie squeezes her eyes shut, her arm lowers ever so slightly. It’s the picture of a girl who’s too wrapped up in a world she knows so little about, a kid in the deep end with no armbands. She regrets hitting Tayce. Lawrence can see that.

“They picked you out,” Lawrence continues. “Made you feel special, made you feel clever, guided your career. I know what it’s like, Ellie, we're young, this is a tough fucking game. But you know everything. You really think they’re going to let you just stop, let you go have your wee happily-ever-after fairytale ending?”

“Lawrence, I know what I’m doing,” Ellie sniffs, switches the arm that’s holding the gun and aims it steadily at her with only the slightest tremble.

“Bimini,” Lawrence says simply, and Ellie’s face flinches in recognition. “They’re saying they’re going to get off their charges. You know names, dates, places. You know as well as I do they’re not at the top of that fucking tree. We’re so close to cracking this whole OCG. Money laundering, drug trafficking, more armed robberies.”

Ellie is faltering. Her eyes dart down the road behind Lawrence and when there’s no relief to her expression, Lawrence continues.

“You were just a kid. They picked you up off a Dundee scheme, got you into the force and then you had access to operations, evidence rooms, kilos and kilos of currency that can get used to frame people, blackmail people, get them off the hook and make them money. Ellie, do you honestly think you were the only teenager they’ve trained up? You know how wide-reaching this is. How many other kids lives’ have they ruined? How many other dreams have they thrown on the scrapheap? How many other wee girls aren’t ever gonny get their hair salon?”

Ellie’s expression is blank, supposedly steadfast apart from the tears that’re making tracks down each cheek. Lawrence can feel the lump in her own throat before she swallows it, narrowing her eyes to stop the tears that are threatening to spring up in them.

She’s part of the OCG. She’s corrupt. Her actions have resulted in lost lives.

And yet she’s not a killer. She’s in too deep and she’s drowning. She deserves a second chance.

“Do the right thing,” Lawrence pleads, having to readjust her own gun as she realises she’s lowered it while she’s been talking. “Tell us everything you know. Confess.”

There’s a flicker in Ellie’s eyes that makes Lawrence think perhaps this is it. She’ll put the gun down and run away with her, back to AC-12 and then to a protected witness safehouse and maybe Lawrence can still visit her, maybe they’ll work something out.

And then there’s a screeching of brakes and tyres behind her, and before Lawrence can turn around she’s struck to the ground, the side of an ugly blacked-out Range Rover scraping her left arm. Lawrence can hear herself groan in pain, couldn’t prevent her own cries even if she wanted to because fucking Jesus she’s hurt, and as the car screeches to a halt she’s willing herself with every fibre of her being to get up, catch the fuckers because she can’t let them away with this.

She can’t let them away with what they’ve turned Ellie into.

As she rolls over onto her side, though, the sight that’s in front of her is strange. The car hasn’t yet sped away, and Ellie doesn’t appear to be in a rush. Instead she’s rooted to the spot, staring at Lawrence with her jaw slack and helplessness smacked across her face.

They lock eyes, and Lawrence knows she wants to help her.

Then something takes over; whether it’s a realisation that she can’t help her or a change of heart, Lawrence doesn’t know, but suddenly Ellie’s wrenching open the side door and scrambling into the back seat, and the accelerator is getting slammed as the car drives away in too low of a gear.

Lawrence looks at the bridge she’s just run down the stairs from and knows that this isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.

***

She’s audibly gasping. How pathetic. Countless years in the police service, the exertion she’s had to go through in fitness training, and yet this is the thing that’s got her the most out of breath in her whole career.

Sprinting down to an OCG car to see if she’s killed the criminal she’s fallen in love with.

The Range Rover has crashed into a parked Citroen, and there’s a car alarm piercing through the air as Lawrence runs up to the scene. Which car it belongs to, Lawrence doesn’t know. She supposes it doesn’t matter. There’s smoke pouring out of one of the vehicles under the bonnet which makes her panic, wonder if suddenly one of them is about to burst into flames action-movie style. She supposes the last hour couldn’t be much more beyond parody if it tried.

The doors to the Range Rover are closed. That is until Lawrence runs up parallel to the vehicle and the passenger door swings open, Ellie falling out of it with a pained grunt, bent double with her palms against the ground. There’s a nasty cut on her head that blood is already pouring out of, but Lawrence knows it’s not a gunshot wound. That seems to have been reserved for the driver of the car, and Lawrence is grateful with every embryo she possesses that Ellie wasn’t the target.

Even in Ellie’s shaken state she’s still holding her glock, so Lawrence keeps her rifle trained on her as Ellie aims messily, sways from left to right a little like she’s drunk. Even though Lawrence wants nothing more than to just drop her weapon and wrap Ellie in a hug. To tell her it’s over now, that she’ll be okay. Protected, safe.

Although the illusion that she could be any of those things is beginning to crumble to the ground as the gravity of the situation hits Lawrence like a freight train.

“Ellie, drop the gun. Put it down,” Lawrence commands from behind the gun.

Ellie disobeys her, stubborn til the bitter end. They look at each other, their gazes challenging but holding an equal amount of hurt and regret. As Ellie stumbles towards her and lowers her weapon, Lawrence in turn lowers hers. She’s giving nothing away on her expression, but the action lifts Lawrence’s heart. As she catches her breath her heart is in her mouth, wondering if Ellie’s going to drop the gun, if she’ll say something, if she realises this whole mess could be over if she just-

Click.

Lawrence’s face drops as she seems to take in what’s happening at a thousand miles an hour. The passenger seat of the Range Rover, a man in a helmet with the visor up aiming a rifle straight at her. This is it. Ellie was just a decoy to distract Lawrence long enough to be offered up like a lamb to slaughter. The dread and panic and sheer realisation that her life’s about to be ended by a round of bullets grips Lawrence to the point of paralysis.

And then she sees Ellie’s head turn, and where once before everything was fast, events suddenly slow to half speed.

There’s a raw, visceral, almost animalistic “ NO!” that’s ripped from Ellie as she steps in front of Lawrence, and then the BANGBANG, BANG of three bullets that fire through Ellie’s body before she falls to the ground. Without any prior thought and as though her body is being controlled for her, Lawrence aims her gun at the man who’s just killed the girl she loves and fires three right back, only satisfied when his helmet thrashes against the passenger window in defeat.

Lawrence’s face contorts into one of horror and disbelief as police sirens enter her consciousness, and the ART arrives. She stumbles a little on the spot as firearms officers spill out of the van and aim at her. Her voice shakes as she produces her badge.

“I’m AC-12!” she yells over to them, her words cracking as she lowers her weapon and finally, finally rests it on the ground. “I’m AC-12.”

She can barely stand to look at Ellie, but she does. Her body isn’t horrifically mangled or contorted; there’s just three red circles that’re bleeding through her baby pink suit and crisp white shirt. Her eyes have fluttered half-closed, and Lawrence’s heart shatters at the thought of never getting to see that blue again.

She races to her side, presses two fingers against her neck. She’s no paramedic, but she thinks there’s a faint pulse.

And then Ellie’s lips are moving.

“Lawrence,” she whispers near-silently, and Lawrence kneels down next to her, brings her face close.

“It’s me. It’s me, Ellie.”

Ellie takes a heavy, laboured breath. “...’m sorry.”

“It’s...it’s okay, you’re safe now. You can get to hospital and we can get you a safehouse and you can help us and we’ll help you. And we can…” Lawrence takes a second to breathe, swallowing her tears as she fights the helpless feeling that all her hopes are dying in front of her. “...we can be happy, the pair of us. I mean you canny fuckin’ die on me, you bitch, eh?”

Ellie takes another shaky breath in, not a single trace of any emotion apart from a dying light on her face as she speaks. Her eyes seem to shut further. “Loz, look at me. I’m fucked.”

Lawrence feels her face fall and her heart drop. “No, Ellie…”

“Declaration,” Ellie says quietly, and like an obedient fool Lawrence just nods, fishes her phone from the pocket of her vest.

“Get away from her!” one of the firearms officers yells at her; cold, professional. Lawrence supposes they’d never understand.

“I’m taking her dying declaration, for fuck’s sake, Sargeant, you will stand down!” she shoots back. She turns all her attentions to Ellie now, and her heart hurts and her chest aches and she’s forcing herself to look at her painted face and the wings of her eyeliner and every little lash that frames her eyes and the pink of her lips and not the ugly, leaking holes in her body because Ellie isn’t ugly, not a single part of her.

Lawrence is ashamed to admit it, but she still loves her for everything she is.

And as if she reads her mind, Ellie’s eyes flutter slowly open as if the action takes all the strength in the world, and she looks deeply into Lawrence’s as she gropes blindly for her hand, which Lawrence rushes to take. “Before...the recording. Want you to know that...us. It was real. To me.”

Lawrence doesn’t know when she began crying, but suddenly her cheeks are wet and her tears are dripping onto the lapel of Ellie’s suit. She leans close to Ellie’s side, murmurs into her ear.

“I forgive you. And I love you.”

Lawrence hears Ellie as she whispers out. “I love you too.”

And as Lawrence tells herself she needs to get it together, and that she’s still a police officer in the field and she needs to get evidence from a key witness before she…

Well. Before the worst case scenario.

...she turns her face, presses an urgent kiss to Ellie’s cheek that she doesn’t give a fuck about anyone witnessing. The implications of that can be something for her to worry about once she’s healed, grieved for a girl she both knew inside out and didn’t know at all. Instead, she sniffs, straightens up and holds the phone to Ellie’s lips.

“Come on, Ellie. Say it.”

And as Ellie’s eyes drop closed and her lips move, Lawrence tunes out the chaos of the police presence around her and condenses the moment to Ellie’s hand in hers, and the gentle wind that plays with her hair splayed out on the grass, and what could very well be her final words.

“DI Eleanor Diamond...in the hopeless expectation of death...I record my dying declaration…”

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #s2 #urgent exit required #ortega #line of duty au #lesbian au #angst #ellie x lawrence #implied taywhora #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #joe black #tw violence #tw major character death

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