#there’s no reason I should have to scramble to turn a video down when it starts just to scramble to turn it back up .5 seconds after bc the

[tacticaldiary]

Recovery In Tandem

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: Torture, Men being creepy, mentions of sexual assault, Simon and the reader get their revenge.

"Good. You're doing good." Simon soothes, running a hand up and down her back. "That's it, love. Keep breathing, yeah?"

"I can't do it." She sobs a sound that makes Simon's chest tighten, clutching onto his like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't...it's-I'm always back there-"

A/N: Sequel to 'Captured In Tandem'. Read Part 1 Here to get the full context

Masterlist

It's odd, coming back to what used to be so normal.

Days in a dingy basement with only a lover as broken as she was or company. She had to be strong for him back then, just as Simon had been determined to be for her, but now...

Now there was nothing to be strong for.

No ropes digging into her ankles and wrists, nobody forcing hurt on her for answers she couldn't give. No reason to keep her chin up to chase away the angry, anguished looks in Ghost's eyes as she was beaten and shot and put through the worst humanity has to offer.

Watching back the recordings the sick bastards had made was easy. She'd done it with a numb sort of dissociative manner. Watched herself be touched and shot while Ghost spat out threats that would make a normal man turn pale. They'd assured her she didn't have to sit through it, that she could deliver her statement and reports through memory alone but something in her itched to see living, visible proof that it was all real.

Sometimes she feels insane, stuck in her own head.

Ghost had to leave the room when they hit play.

He never said anything, just got up, pushed his chair in and left. It was funny, a detached part of her had thought when he'd walked out. She'd seen him do the most squeamish things, known he'd gone through much worse, but seeing her be tortured, ripped into half the shreds he was, was somewhat too much to bear for him.

That had been 12 days ago.

Price has taken her access to the video away after the ninth time she'd watched it.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

"I know you're bad at sharing but you wouldn't mind if I had a taste, would you?" The man croons at Ghost. His breath fans across her face, acrid and disgusting. A choked sob tears out of her lips when his hand trails up her body-

And she...she can't move?

Her head is a leaden weight, fixed firmly to the grimy ground under her, her limbs frozen as she watches it happen in terror. She has to do something, to push him away, bash in his nose with her skull, but she can't move, Ghost is yelling and shouting and threatening, and she can't do anything but sit there helplessly as she squeezes her eyes shut, breath ragged-

His hands stop on her shoulders, clutching them tight enough to aggravate the old wounds, she's being shaken, a voice in her ear, low and-...and soothing? A rumble she knows so well, mumbling something that doesn't match up with what should be happening-

She wakes up with a start, a choked gasp tearing its way from her throat. There are hands on her, holding her shoulders and she clumsily tries to scratch them away, to push, mind still scrambled and half awake.

"-alright, I've got you." The ringing in her ears subsides and words make themselves known to her right by her ear. A hand grabs hers, presses it against something warm and scarred and beating, the scent of gun smoke and oak invading her senses as she snaps back to the present.

It's not a chair or a hard floor under her, it's soft sheets that rustle as she trembles, pressed close to someone so familiar and warm

Warm. She was never warm back there.

A shuddering breath loosens out of her chest, mixed with a sob as the fight drains out of her

"Good. You're doing good." Simon soothes, running a hand up and down her back. "That's it, love. Keep breathing, yeah?"

"I can't do it." She sobs a sound that makes Simon's chest tighten, clutching onto his like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't...it's-I'm always back there-"

"You're not." He slides her hand out from under his shirt where he'd pressed it over his heart, pulls her in closer to him. "We got out. You got us out."

Nightmares. Night terrors, more specifically.

She dreamt about dying.

He dreamt about watching her die.

Simon was more subtle about it. He hadn't told her at first, keeping his troubles guarded lest he give her more to worry about during her recovery. She'd found out when something jostled her in the middle of the night, had switched on the lamp to see him tense, with a gritted jaw.

He'd told her he'd been having them all his life, that he was used to them, but that didn't make her feel any better, didn't help her deal with her own.

The same scene, over and over again, but this time she's unable to escape, unable to move. She has to let it happen and watch the both of them die.

Every. Fucking. Night.

"Listen to me." He says firmly, and when she doesn't respond, he pulls her away from where she's buried her face into the crook of his neck. "Eyes on me. Right here." He urges in that same commanding voice he'd told her to grab the knife with all that time ago.

She obliges and something so distressed in her eyes makes a pang of anger and upset hit his heart. Not at her. Never at her.

Simon's just upset that he didn't get to rip those motherfuckers into shreds with his own two hands.

"We're not there." He curls a hand around the back of her neck. "You killed him, we're safe." His mouth ticks down. "Don't leave pieces of yourself behind, yeah? They don't deserve an inch more of you than they've already taken."

"We're safe." She breathes out, repeating him and relaxing when he gives her a nod of approval.

"That's right." His thumb circles her nape softly, a reassuring pressure that keeps her grounded. "Wouldn't have fucking lived with myself if I let a bastard like that be the end of you."

He considers the small quirk of her lips as a victory.

"No?" She questions, leaning into him, exhaustion tugging at her bones.

"Negative." He confirms.

"I think of it a lot." She admits after a moment. "I go there every night. Watched the tape to figure out if there was anything...sooner I could have done."

Lips press against her temple, hot and firm as she lets her eyes slip shut.

"If there was, I would've done it." There's a deep-seated regret in his voice, the gravel of guilt weaving its way through the sediments of his thoughts. There are a few moments of silence, and she thinks that might be all he has to say but Simon surprises her by going on:

"It was hell." He says in a low voice, almost hesitant to verbalise it to her. "Never been so off-kilter, seeing you all banged up and mangled." He puffs a quick exhale against her skin. "Would've skinned those fuckers alive if I could."

And she believes him.

The threat of such violence may be a deterrent to others, but it warms her inside out to know that she's barrelled past all his walls and settled into his heart as someone he'd go to those lengths to protect.

"I know." She whispers. Simple. Knowing. Mutual.

They stay like that until she drifts back off to sleep. It's not hard, given the little hours she's only been able to get before being woken up by her own mind. It's a solace, knowing he'd be there to coach her through it every time, to reassure and ground and hold her until the worst of it passes.

Simon watches her drift off.

He couldn't leave her side after Gaz had found them. Fought and glared at anybody who dared to tell him to step away from her. Even when being given medical attention of his own, his gaze was always fixed on her.

The strongest fucking person he knows.

Ghost prides himself on being someone efficient, someone who goes in and out and gets the job done with terrifying purpose.

It had all flown out the window the moment he registered that she was with him in that room, bound in front of him. When they'd caught on that she was the one person he'd burn the fucking world down for, he hated himself for letting it show.

His arms tighten around her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against his own, reminding himself that she was still here. Alive. With him.

His. Always his.

He couldn't do much to change the past...

But he could do a hell of a lot to make them feel better about the future.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

"You certain about this?" Price raises an eyebrow, watching the rigid set of Ghost's shoulders. He stares at the glass looking into the observation room.

"Positive." Voice clipped, eyes cold.

There is no Simon here, just the harsh chill of Ghost.

Price doesn't say anything more, simply takes a drag of his cigar, letting the smoke out into the air in a slow exhale. "This is off the books." The implications of the words make something cruel and satisfied curl in his chest. "Intel is your priority. Their lives are not."

There's brewing anger underneath his Captain's words. Anger at the outcome, at receiving two of the best soldiers of his prized task force back injured, one of them in tatters. He'd sat outside the operating room the entire time she'd been in surgery.

If he didn't think Ghost deserved to more, he'd go in there himself.

"Copy." Ghost clips out, and then pushes the door open.

He recognises about 5 of the 8 men bound in front of him, slumped against the wall. He doesn't care about the unfamiliar 3, they were here and therefore associated.

That was enough of a crime for him to feel no remorse.

They straighten up as he enters and Ghost can't help the rush of grim satisfaction at the way they shuffle and bristle when they realise who it is.

Ghost stares them down for a moment, before dragging a cart from the shadows of a corner into the light.

Knives, a bat, a pistol, and other knick-knacks that he intended to test out. Laid out neatly for him to rifle through and choose.

He picks the pistol, loading the chamber full.

It dawns on them pretty quickly, and some of them start stuttering and talking at him, words that buzz around his head. Others hold their chins high and Ghost cannot wait to make them break.

He drags the one nearest to him closer, kicks the man's knee out sending him kneeling to the floor. Before the man can start to talk, Ghost levels the gun to his head and fires a shot clean through his skull.

Blood splatters near the feet of the 7 others.

"That's the most merciful I'll be getting." He says, voice ringing through the room. He surveys the room briefly. "I doubt any of you'll be giving me half the fight the woman you beat did."

"They were our orders!" One of them yells, tugging at his bindings. "We did what we were told."

"Your mistake." Ghost says unfeelingly, clicking the chamber of his gun shut again. "Touching her was a death sentence."

He doesn't give them a single word more.

One by one, he makes them all crack, makes the others watch just as he was forced to. Screwdrivers, knives, and his own two hands ripped through flesh and cracked bones, stoking and soothing the fire running under his veins. Each scream and cry reminds him of the ones she'd let out, the ones he had to endure and listen to because of these bastards, eggs him on to be more brutal and ruthless.

Unforgiving.

He doesn't need to ask a single question.

They cry out their answers in desperate pleas of mercy, anything and everything that they think Ghost would possibly want to know.

Personnel, safehouses, weapons, and coordinates. They all come pouring out between the cracks of their bones, the ringing of bullets, and the quiet slashes of his knife.

Ghost doesn't hear a single word. It would all be recorded for whoever the hell to go through later on, but Ghost doesn't care about any of it. The only thing he's focused on is paying back what's due in dividends.

By the time he's done, there's more blood on the floor than the drain could keep up with, and the cold rage had receded back enough for him to be satisfied.

Price doesn't comment when he emerges, silently nodding before walking off to find the only person who matters. There were no pieces of him left in that room. He'd reserved each one of them for her.

He'll be damned if he ever lets anybody break her down again.

Not on his watch.

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(25/09/2023)

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 9)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Y/N finally feels ready to take the next step in her relationship with Rafe, but she gets scared off.

Masterlist

Sabrina’s birthday party is the first social outing of Stella’s that Rafe goes to with his girls. He can’t necessarily say he loves being surrounded by other people’s screaming children and talking to boring ass parents, but he knows it is a part of parental duties. Stella is off in the bouncy castle with her friends and Rafe can’t help watching her like a hawk. He saw a video of a bouncy castle lifting off on Instagram and he is not going to let that happen to his little girl. Y/N reassured him that it wasn’t windy enough for that to happen and if it did get bad enough, he could be the first one to get her out of there. At the thought of Y/N, his eyes look for her in the crowd of adults. He finds her picking at the cardboard-tasting cake that is supposed to be sugar-free, dairy-free, eggs-free, flour-free and who knows what else. Rafe understands that children’s allergies can be serious, but people would be lying if they said this stuff doesn’t taste like anything that people would enjoy. Cake is a dessert; it’s supposed to be sugary and sweet.

He can see the disappointment on her face. She was so excited about the cake on the car ride over here, so he made a note to buy her one on the way home. They haven’t been on their date yet because they have both been so busy with Stella and work. Plus, Y/N made him promise to keep going to his sobriety resources so it has been conflicting with their schedule too. He is dying to go on the date with her; he needs to clear his work schedule for next week. Maybe they can go on a date while Stella is at daycare. Hmm, he should take her to that little bakery he found near his apartment that has a red velvet cake she would love. 

His focus is on Y/N completely and he doesn’t notice Raquelle's appearance beside him. Like poof. Her raspberry-red hair looks nothing like her son’s dark chocolate. Her long stiletto-shaped nails make Rafe wonder how she could do anything with them on. The point of her nails scratches at the fabric of his shirt on his chest. This draws his attention, causing him to look away from his love. “So… You’re Stella’s dad,” she states, giving him a Cheshire cat smile. He pulls away from her touch, “Yeah, I am. And you are Raquelle, right? Will’s mom.” “That I am. You know, I had Willy pretty young too. And I’m not married or dating anyone,” she flirts, batting her eyes. Rafe thinks she might have something wrong with her eyes. Should he call an ambulance for her? It would be bad for her to die in front of the kids. He knows she is flirting, but for once in his life, he doesn’t know what to do. Normally, he would flirt back, which isn’t what he wants to do with Y/N in his life. 

“Okay… I don’t really know what to do with that information,” he posits, looking around for anyone else to talk to because it doesn’t seem Raquelle is getting the message. 

Stella’s bounce loses its pep as she watches Will’s mommy talk to her daddy. Ms. Raquelle is giving her daddy a funny smile and she doesn’t like it. Her eyes find her mommy, spotting the way her maternal parent is glancing in Rafe’s direction. Y/N’s eyes lost the shine they had and her smiles turned fake. Stella can only conclude the reason for her mother’s upset is Ms. Raquelle touching Rafe. She scrambles out of the jumping house, sliding down the exit until her feet find solid ground. Her shoes are on the wrong foot but she doesn’t seem to understand it is the cause for her toes being pinched. Sabrina’s mom is handing out juice boxes and she grabs a cranberry one from her even though she hates cranberry.

 Rafe will always spot Stella in a crowd; his eyes are now trained to always be looking. So when he sees her running towards him with a juice box, he preemptively kneels to her height. Raquelle pauses her conversation to watch the father-daughter reunion. “Daddy, can you open my juice box, please?” Stella asks, holding up the box to him. He happily takes it and kisses her head, “Of course, little witch.” He puts the straw in for her and gently hands it back to her. “Okay, now, be careful. Don’t squeeze it.” She brings it to her lips taking a sip of the bitter concoction she hates. Her child reflexes kick in and she spews red juice all over Raquelle’s white skirt. “Ew, yucky,” Stella whines in disgust. Raquelle lets out a loud yelp as her hands fly to her skirt. “Stella, we don’t do that when we don’t like something,” he addresses Stella first before turning to Raquelle. “I am so sorry, Ms. Walker. I’m sure some bleach might get that off.” She tries to give him a genuine smile, but when she looks at Stella, it is clear she is annoyed. She heads to the bathroom, so Rafe picks up his daughter. Stella fears she is about to be reprimanded, yet the laugh Rafe lets out changes her mind. “You are one smart cookie, little witch. Thank you for saving Daddy,” he praises, pressing his lips to her cheek. She beams at his words and brings him closer to her with her arms around his neck. “You’re welcome, Daddy. She was making Mommy sad,” she informs her father. Rafe glances at Y/N, “Really? I guess we should go give Mommy some kisses to show her how much we love her.”

Stella wiggles out of grasp, wanting to be the first person to reach her mother for a kiss. Rafe smiles at the scene of Stella running into Y/N’s arms. Y/N kisses her daughter’s cheek and giggles at something she said. Rafe wants moments similar to these forever. He wants to give his two girls the world. 

——

Stella sits at the counter at the Diner, watching her mother go through some receipts opposite her. “Mommy, will you ever go on a date with Daddy?” Stella ponders out loud. Her feet swing at a quick pace like she is in a swim meet. Y/N gives the girl a surprised look, “I will eventually.”

“When is it eventually?”

“When I finally get all my work done and you have someone to look after you.”

“You are done with all your work. And Uncle Joshy or Benny could watch me. Auntie Sarah and Wheezie can too. So why don’t you want to go out with Daddy?” 

Y/N’s hand reaches out for her daughter, gently squeezing the young girl’s cheeks together. “My baby is so smart. I do want to go out with Daddy. I’m just a little scared,” Y/N confesses. Stella’s head tilts, “Why? Daddy is really nice.” 

“He is, Baby. But Daddy could have lots of intelligent and wonderful girls, while Mommy hasn’t been on a date since you were born.” 

“You don’t have to be afraid. Daddy loves us both very much. I can see it, Mommy.” 

Y/N didn’t know Stella was the president of the Rafe and Y/N fan club, but she finds it adorable. “Okay, maybe I’ll go over to Daddy’s house after work. Do you want Uncle Benny or Josh to watch you?” she asks, pulling her phone out. Stella takes a second to think, “Uncle Joshy. I want to eat dinner tonight.” It cracks Y/N up that Stella understands her uncles’ personalities so well. Even when Y/N was younger, Josh was always more responsible than their older brother. Benedict would babysit and they’d eat candy for dinner while Josh forced them to have some vegetables as dessert. “Okay, Baby. I’ll get Uncle Josh to come over.”

——

She gets out of her car, making sure to lock it before entering the apartment building. The concierge knows her by now and asks her to sign in without an issue. Her nail finds a way between her teeth, nervously turning the smooth surface into a jagged mess. The elevator dings and she steps onto it. Her mind is going over what she is going to say like a mantra. She wants this to be perfect for them because if this is the start of their story, it needs to be a good one. As she steps out of the moving contraption, her eyes fall on someone unexpected at his door. 

There is no reason for Raquelle to be at his place unless Y/N misinterpreted what she thought to be a one-sided flirty conversation at Sabrina’s party to actually be a two-sided one. Of course, Y/N waited too long to make any concrete plans with Rafe and he moved on. She missed her chance. Her eyes glass over, running back to the now-closing elevator. The door closes and she lets her tears fall down her face.

The appearance of Raquelle at his front door is one he knew was coming but really didn’t want. Yesterday, he had gotten a text saying she found his watch at the party. He told her she could bring it over today. He has enough money to buy a new one, but this one is sentimental. His dad gave it to him when he graduated high school from his mother. Before she died, she had bought gifts for all her children to be given to them at their graduation. It was his most prized possession after his daughter and Y/N, of course. Not that they were possessions, he just lacked a better way of thinking about it.

“I’m so glad that I found it. This looks important,” she comments, holding it up to him. He takes it out of her hand, “Thank you. It is important. It is a present from my mom before she died.” “That’s really sweet. So… since I’m here, do you want to go out for dinner? On a date,” she questions. She steps closer to him and puts her hand on his chest. He gently removes her hand, “No, I’m sorry. But I’m committed to Y/N. She’s the only one for me.” Raquelle steps back as soon as he says those words. “I didn’t know. I am so sorry I’ve been bothering you so much. I thought you guys weren’t together,” she explains with an apologetic smile. 

“It’s okay. And we aren’t dating officially yet. We have a date that still needs to be planned, but I know she is who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“That’s really sweet. I hope you guys find the time for your date. And if you need a babysitter, I know Will would love to have Stella over, even with their breakup. Do you think we could still be friends?”

“I would love to be your friend.” 

——

Y/N may have allowed Rafe to see Stella early; however, it doesn’t mean she let him be alone with their daughter yet. He’s regained most of her trust; it’s just this part that she is holding back on. He understands why she fears something like that could happen again and he respects her decision. He still comes every day after work to the diner to spend time with the two girls and make sure they get home alright. He walks into the diner to find Stella gone. He totally forgot she was staying at Wheezie’s tonight. It doesn’t mean he can’t hang out with Y/N though. They can finally talk about when they could go on a date. “Hey, Buttercup. I think we should talk about our date,” he tells her, sitting on the stool. Y/N freezes at his words, “Actually, Rafe. I wanted to talk to you about it too.” Rafe knows what her tone of voice means. Bad news for him, especially since she used his name in a none sexual setting.

“I’m not going to like this news am I?”

“Rafe, I’ve been thinking and I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I really shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place. I mean we’ve been too busy to go on our date so far and I don’t see that changing any time soon. You should be focusing on your sobriety.” 

“Yeah, but I could do both. I know I can.”

“What if you can’t though? You might be putting too much on your plate and it might cause another relapse. The last thing I want to do is put more pressure on our relationship and you.”

“Right, right. No, I understand. You are right. We make a great co-parenting team and it would be strange to change that. I just remembered I have to finish some work, so I’m going to go.”

Rafe tries to hide his upset, so he hides his face from her and heads directly toward the door. Why does this keep happening to him? He is always so close to getting everything he dreams of until something pulls it away from him. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator @justdamnpeachy @theoraekenslover

[magicshopaholic]

Moving On (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: BTS performs in Amsterdam and Namjoon invites you to the afterparty.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Angst, smut

Word count: 8.2K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, angst, sex, nudity, making out, fingering, cumming, arguing,

A/N: Takes place a little over a month after Final Destination.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2,  @margopinkerton, @faearchives,  @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @sumzysworld, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: "where does the good go" by tegan and sara

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

Joon [13:45] Did you get the email from Big Hit?

Kaya [13:50] Yes

Joon [13:51] The number at the end is their London office. They’ve been briefed already and have additional security available for all European locations.

Kaya [13:54] Okay

There’s a break in the chat here. Kaya stares at the time stamp, trying to picture him scrambling to find something else to say.

Joon [14:15] The company managed to track down the account that uploaded the video. Account has been taken down and they’ve sued for invasion of privacy.

Kaya [14:20] Okay 

Joon [14:22] They’ve also offered to add damages to the suit, in case we want that. Do you?

Kaya [14:25] Not really

Joon [14:26] Okay then

Another break. Kaya scans the time stamps again, even though she’s memorised it by now. She remembers the three dots indicating him typing, seeing them appear and disappear over and over again. 

Joon [14:40] How are you?

Kaya [14:45] Fine

Joon [14:46] How‘s work?

Kaya [14:48] Fine

Joon [14:50] Kaya I’m trying

Kaya [14:51] Class starting, got to go

He hadn’t responded and she hadn’t expected him to. Four days post break-up hadn’t been nearly long enough for her to let go of her anger but now, four weeks in, it’s only been replaced with an equal amount of sadness and longing.

Every conversation has been exactly this terse and abrupt, the last one being a week ago. It had appeared when she’d been teaching an elective class and it had taken every ounce of her will to not check it until the class ended. As it turned out, she couldn’t even think of a decent response to it.

“How can he possibly think of asking me this?” Kaya mutters, earphones in as she walks home. It’s dusk, a gorgeous time of the day, but she holds no appreciation for it right now.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if he didn’t ask?” Dilara asks reasonably. She’s in her car by the sound of it, a low hum audible of whichever fancy car of hers she’s decided to take out today.

Kaya swallows, pondering this. It might be, but it doesn’t address the problem she’s too embarrassed to voice out loud: it should be harder for him to ask. The thought that he might not be taking this break-up as hard as she is kills something inside of her, as if she’d misunderstood everything in the last three years. 

Her strategy to save herself from hearing the truth had been to distance herself from everyone, including Yoongi, who had texted her out of the blue one day to ask her if she was okay (she hadn’t responded); Seokjin, who seemed to skirt the topic altogether and sounded as though he was speaking to someone very sick; and especially Dilara, who Kaya knew would be the only one with the capacity to ask insightful questions that she herself was too afraid to.

“It’s just… strange,” is all she can manage. “He hopped on a flight, shot a few emails, came over and broke up with me and then went right back to his schedule, all in one day. And now he's inviting me to a party?"

“After-party, so it won’t be, like… crazy,” Dilara clarifies. “And the concert before it.” 

“I’m definitely not going to his concert.”

“Of course not,” she agrees breezily. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But the party… I mean, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t want you to be strangers.”

Kaya slows down as she approaches the river. She’s taken the long route home today - anything to prolong the commute before another night in her tainted apartment with memories on every surface.

“I don’t know if I want to see him.” I don’t know if I can. “He wants to see me, though, apparently,” she states after a moment.

Dilara doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I mean -“ She begins before pausing, then trying again. “I’m sure it’s going to be torture for him to see you. But even that’s better than not seeing you.”

Kaya doesn’t even realise she’d been holding her breath; she exhales as slowly as possible so as to not make a sound, both at Dilara’s words as well as her answering the unasked question.

She doesn’t respond immediately, though. Now that they’re down this route of addressing concerns she’s been harbouring in her heart for weeks, Kaya feels the rest of them on the verge of tumbling out of her mouth.

"You've seen him a bit these last couple of months,” she ventures, lowering her voice and leaning backwards against the railing overlooking the river. “Does it seem like he misses me at all?"

Dilara hums, a little too knowingly for Kaya’s liking. “Of course, he does. He’s not the most expressive when it comes to his feelings but aside from Tae last year, I don't think I've met a more miserable person."

Kaya waits for the swell of happiness or relief at this news, but all it brings with it is a new wave of anger and frustration.

“Thanks.”

"Look, speaking from experience, it's not easy seeing your ex after a difficult break-up,” says Dilara, sighing. “But sometimes you don't realise just how much you needed to see them until you see them, even if it's just to gain some closure."

Closure. It sounds… final. Kaya can’t picture it, being virtual strangers eventually, just bits of each other’s past. Ex-boyfriend, girl of his dreams, the one that got away. She hates all those words because they just don’t apply, not really. They can’t.

She closes her eyes and presses the heel of her palms into them to intercept the wetness forming, not caring that Dilara is still on the other end of the line. She and Namjoon had stood right here, years ago, living in the bliss of a new couple in fresh love. He’d brought her a bunch of tiny yellow flowers from the park, part-cheesy and part-genuine, eyes twinkling and dimples soft.

Kaya squeezes her eyes shut at the memory, terrified at how the edges of it are already blurring. 

“I don’t think I’ll go,” she murmurs, opening her eyes to stare at the ground. “I can’t.” 

“Are you sure?” Dilara sounds slightly surprised.

“Yeah. Two days from now is… it’s too soon. I’ll either cry or yell or… I don’t know. It’s too hard.”

“Oh.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Okay. If you’re sure. Let me know if you want to get together on Sunday,” she adds. “Brunch or something.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

—

The next day, Kaya is in the library again, grading papers and wishing she could go back to being a grad student who’s biggest problem was a pop quiz. She’s deliberately chosen a table at the back, away from where the students generally sit, which is why she looks up in surprise when someone comes to her table.

“H-hi, Kaya.” The student waves rests one hand on the back of an empty hair and waves hesitantly with the other.

“Um… hi.” Kaya tries not to frown too conspicuously, for she’s sure she knows this girl. 

Svetlana. Savannah. 

“Elena, right?”

“Yeah,” she answers with a nervous smile. “Um… are you busy?”

Kaya glances at the stacks of papers, books and laptop on the table. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Okay. Well… I just wanted to say hi.”

Kaya nods awkwardly and forces a small smile on her face. “Hi.”

Elena nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She looks like she’s about to leave but at the last moment, sits down at the table. Kaya feels her smile fade for she really, really wants to be alone right now.

“How - how are things going?” She sounds nervous - extremely so. She seems to be fidgeting slightly and constantly touching her hair. 

“Great,” says Kaya shortly, going back to her paper and hoping she’ll take the hint. “You?”

“Not bad, overall. I guess. Classes are hard and mid-terms are coming up as well…” Elena trails off. “Any plans for the weekend?”

Trying not to sigh, Kaya shakes her head. “Not really. You?”

“Well… I’m going to a concert tomorrow,” she answers hurriedly, and it’s clear that she’s been waiting to divulge this information, oblivious to how Kaya’s heart stops. “It should be fun. Do - do you listen to BTS?”

An unexpected notification from this morning floats into her kind. BTS continues their Europe leg by arriving in Amsterdam, ready to kick off the summer in style!

“No,” she answers truthfully.

“Oh.” Elena is quiet for a moment. “They’re really… good.” 

There’s some awkward silence during which Kaya deliberately writes comments on the paper she’s grading, scratching the pen on the paper and wishing Elena would leave.

“It’ll be good to get out of campus. The people here are kind of intimidating. The parties are pretty wild, too,” she murmurs after a moment, sounding uncomfortable.

Kaya nods absently, uncharacteristically satisfied with the knowledge that she might be intimidating this unwanted guest. “Maybe you’re going to the wrong parties,” she offers.

Elena lets out a nervous laugh again. “Maybe. I never see you at them, though. There’s one, tonight, in the common room. Maybe you could come,” she suggests lightly. “Bring a friend or - or your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she answers flatly, not looking up.

“You - oh.” There’s a note of surprise in her voice. “Oh,” she repeats, this time seemingly to herself. “Are you sure?” she blurts out.

Kaya’s eyes snap up to glare at her. “Pretty sure.”

Elena’s eyes widen. “Oh, of - of course,” she stutters. “Sorry, that - that was a stupid question. Sorry.” She swallows and looks at her lap.

Kaya closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, immediately feeling guilty for snapping at an innocent bystander in this situation. “Elena, I… I really need to get these papers done,” she tells her, her voice one of forced calm. “So…”

The blonde finally seems to understand and awkwardly stands up. “Okay. Um, see you around,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear again. 

Kaya nods as she leaves, Namjoon’s invitation swimming in her mind tantalisingly. She can’t ignore it anymore, the fact that they’re in the same city, her city. If she’s not wrong, he’ll do the concert tomorrow night, the group will probably stay the night and depart by Sunday afternoon or evening and she will probably never see him again.

She attempts to continue grading the paper she was working on when Elena interrupted, but when she finds herself reading the same stupid sentence for the fourth time without retaining anything, she begins packing up, ready to head home.

—

Joon [18:42] Hope to see you there tonight

Kaya, with a loss as to how to respond to this, simply did not. She can’t imagine he would be texting her during his concert, but she also knows he has before, if the situation was urgent enough to demand it. 

She straightens the black dress against her hips and tilts her head at her reflection. It’s a simple dress, plain black, form-fitting and reaching below her knees, but it’s quite possibly the most gorgeous, sexiest dress she owns. 

If she and Namjoon were together, she would have worn it tonight with no hesitation because it would have driven him insane. After weeks of being apart, seeing her in this dress would have rendered him incapable of staying in work mode without dirty texts, flirty touches and eyes from across the room undressing her. Even now, with a bare face, her hair tied into a loose bun and no footwear, the dress is a game-changer.

She gives herself a few moments to imagine this paradise, one that might have come true tonight had she never told him about the break-in. Then, she silently unzips the dress and climbs out of the black fabric pooled around her feet. Tucking it back into her closet, she looks for something else.

Dilara [18:50] In case you change your mind, sharing the location here [Location]

Dilara’s text had come minutes after Namjoon’s, and Kaya has to imagine it was a genuine coincidence. Although she’d replied to neither, it was the second text that caused her to change her mind - that, and the lingering fear that if she didn’t go today, she didn’t know how either of them would be able to maneuver a situation to see each other again.

The concert should end in a little over an hour. Her phone pings again and she groans, for she doesn’t think she can take any more of their unsubtle attempts at convincing her to go tonight. It’s not Namjoon or Dilara, though, but Adam Fischer, her thirty-something thesis advisor, asking if she wants to discuss the coming week’s class schedule tonight.

Kaya shakes her head as she types out a reply (Sorry, I can’t tonight. Will set up a meeting for first thing Monday if that’s okay?), a little rueful. Namjoon heavily disliked Adam, despite having no concrete reason for doing so. He’d always suspected Adam of having feelings for her, even though Adam hadn’t said or done anything to make her think he might. Part of her wonders if she could somehow ditch the party for this meeting and still make sure that the news travelled to Namjoon through the grapevine (Dilara), and if that would still piss him off even now.

She immediately cringes at the pettiness of it, however, sending her reply to Adam and heading into the shower.

The party is at the rooftop restaurant of the hotel next to the concert venue, and presumably where BTS is staying while in Amsterdam. It isn’t as crowded as she was anticipating, although the music is fairly loud. It looks more like a fancy houseparty, and even a few seconds in, Kaya can spot a handful of vaguely famous people in attendance. She looks around for a familiar face, preferably Dilara or Yoongi or one of the younger boys, wishing she’d called ahead and trying not to think about the fact that in spite of not RSVP-ing, her name was on the guest list.

She takes another hesitant step in and audibly sighs when she spots Taehyung, who, for reasons best known to himself, has accessorised his outfit with an ascot. He seems to be in an animated conversation with Jungkook, while standing in between them and facing ahead, with loose curls tumbling down her shoulders and looking slightly bored, is…

“Kaya!”

Dilara’s mouth forms her name over the music as she brushes past her boyfriend and his friend and hurries towards Kaya, looking both happy and relieved to see her. “You look hot!” she exclaims when she reaches her.

“Oh -” Kaya looks down self-consciously; she’d settled for a straight strapless top and jeans, unable to justify dressing sexier without seeming like she was trying too hard for her ex-boyfriend. “Thanks. And you look…” She frowns slightly at Dilara’s mini-dress and go-go boots, with a slightly out-of-place gold ring hanging around her neck. “... like Daphne Blake.”

Dilara’s face visibly falls. “I look like a cartoon character?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, a very pretty cartoon character,” she adds quickly. “Especially with the headband. But… why?”

She rolls her eyes. “Taehyung picked it - but I’m sure it’s not because of Daphne Blake.” Spotting Kaya’s confused expression, she shrugs sheepishly. “We got into an argument yesterday about who has better taste, so we decided to go shopping at The Nine Streets and pick each other’s outfits for tonight.”

Kaya raises her eyebrows, something seemingly clicking into place. “So the ascot is your doing?”

“M-hm.” She nods in satisfaction before her eyes widen. “Oh, hey! An ascot - like Fred!” She lets out a low whistle at this realisation and laughs, while Kaya nods knowingly, feeling the urge to smile for the first time in what feels like weeks. “Not planned but zero regrets. I wonder if Tae knows that - oh.”

Kaya cuts her off mid-sentence with a hug, suddenly immensely grateful for Dilara. She can’t remember the last time she’d let anyone into her life this much with the exception of Namjoon; but just maybe, when she’d been happy with him and her guard had been lowered, Dilara had slipped in without warning as well.

She tightens her arms around Kaya and rubs her back. “It’s good to see you, too,” she says, sounding part-surprised and part-delighted. “It’s been a while but I promise that we will still - oh, hey.” The change in tone is abrupt. “Incoming.”

By the way her voice immediately lowers, Kaya is sure she knows what Dilara is referring to. Her heart beating a mile a minute, she pulls away from the hug and turns as casually as she can.

Her first thought is that he looks thinner - visibly so. Well, he’s on tour, says a voice in her head but Kaya suspects that’s not the only reason, for he’d been on tour when he’d broken up with her as well.

His hair is a silvery blond, looking almost metallic; dressed simply in a black T-shirt and  jeans, he runs a hand through his hair so it falls gracefully around his face as he approaches her, his face unreadable.

“Hi,” he says, and it sounds like all the breath has been let out of him with just one word. He swallows and straightens his shoulders, a small smile appearing on his face, the dimple faintly visible. “It’s good to see you, Kaya.”

Kaya nods, unable to speak and overcome with a sudden urge to cry. “You, too,” she murmurs, glancing at the floor and blinking rapidly before looking back up at him, a bit defiantly.

“I’m glad you decided to come.”

She nods again, her chest twisting at how normal he sounds. He’s standing far away from her as well, as though to make it clear in every way possible that they’re not together. 

“Hope you had a good concert,” she ventures, recalling the grad student who’d accosted her yesterday, practically beside herself at attending a BTS concert. “Backstage must have been hectic.”

A flicker of something appears in his eyes for a moment, possibly with memories of backstage. Wishes of luck, last minute hugs, sweaty and passionate kisses fueled by adrenaline. But it disappears instantly and Kaya wonders if she imagined it.

“It was,” he answers, nodding. He slides his hands into his pockets smoothly, leaning back on his heels and his smile widening a little. “But worth it as always. The crew did well.”

Kaya doesn’t even bother nodding this time; all of a sudden, she regrets coming here tonight. Dilara has left, she just realises, and Namjoon is acting like they’re acquaintances at best, making her feel stupid and yet immensely grateful that she didn’t wear the sexy black dress.

At that moment, his eyes flicker to something behind her. “I’m sorry, I just need to go and say hi to a couple of people. But enjoy your night. It’s an open bar,” he adds, smiling and nodding politely before brushing past her and walking away.

Kaya doesn’t move; she doesn’t think she can. Something heavy feels like it’s settled on her chest, the weight of confusion, disbelief and crushing disappointment threatening to suffocate her. She has no idea what she’d been expecting; maybe arguing, fighting, crying together again - but not him not caring. Not this.

Namjoon continues walking in the opposite direction for as long as he can keep Kaya in his peripheral vision, both guilty and relieved when she doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t think he can look her in the eye if she does, witness the pain and hurt in her face that close.

He catches Seokjin’s eye and hurries over to him. Seokjin raises his eyebrows and seems to guess what might have transpired, ushering him over to the other end of the circular bar and out of Kaya’s line of sight.

“How did it go?”

Namjoon rests his palms on the bar and shakes his head, no words coming to him at the moment and feeling like he could throw up. He can’t fathom how he did it, how he stood there before her and didn’t immediately pull her to him, or break down and ask her to forgive him for doing the only thing he knew to do.

“Drink this.” Seokjin slides a glass to him and Namjoon takes it without hesitation, taking a huge gulp and waiting for it to sting his sinuses. 

“This is water,” he states hoarsely, frowning at the glass.

“Cold water,” corrects Seokjin. “It’ll help clear your head.”

Namjoon takes another sip and places the glass down, dropping his head into his hands. “I can’t do this. How do I tell her I can’t do this? How do I ask her to -“ But he breaks off here, his mind swimming with the sight of her bare shoulders and exposed collarbones, imagining how they would feel if he held her.

“Okay.” Seokjin exhales through his nose and pauses. “Look, I have to ask. You’ve seen the state she is in. And you’re…” He struggles for a moment “...like this. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to ask her to get back -“

“No.” The answer is instant, although it’s partly a habit by now. As he does every time his mind tries to convince him otherwise, Namjoon forces the memory of her phone call to the forefront of his mind, the fear in her voice and  devastation on her face when he’d entered her apartment.

“But maybe this is -“

“No.” 

Seokjin is silent and Namjoon can tell that he doesn’t approve. Please don’t ask me again, hyung. He doesn’t know if he did the right thing by inviting her but he couldn’t imagine not doing it either, not being right here in her city, knowing she was so close that he could almost smell the coconut and vanilla in the air and still not see her in the flesh.

“If you’re sure,” says Seokjin at last. “If you are, then I guess you did well. Just… just be normal around her. Keep a normal distance, talk about normal things and…” He half-shrugs, sounding uncertain. “She’s smart. She’ll understand. If you’re sure you want to do this, then… she’ll get it.”

Normal. Namjoon knows what he means, but he wants to tell him that none of this is normal. Not touching her, not being honest with her, not being with her - none of it is normal. 

“She’s talking to Yoongi right now,” he adds, and Namjoon turns to see them near the stairs to the top floor. Kaya’s back is to him, her head lowered slightly and her thumbs hooked onto the back pockets of her jeans, the material hugging her hips and curving down her backside… He swallows and looks away.

“This is your chance,” says Seokjin. “Go and mingle. Let her see you moving on - even if you actually aren’t,” he clarifies quickly. “It won’t be pleasant but it might encourage her to do the same.”

Namjoon isn’t sure of the wisdom of this strategy but ever since the cause of his break-up had been revealed to the older members (and surely to Taehyung at least, by Dilara), he’d almost been relieved that he wouldn’t have to make every decision on his own.

He tries his best to navigate the party after that, making empty conversation with guests, using every bit of remaining energy and willpower to plaster a smile on his face. All the while, part of his attention is constantly on Kaya, registering her familiar figure alone at the bar as she nurses a beer, sometimes with Dilara. 

Be normal. Seokjin’s words start holding less and less meaning with every passing minute, especially when he spots Kaya having finished her drink and he’s struck with the sudden fear that she will leave the party. In an effort to be as normal as he can, Namjoon heads over to the bar where she’s scanning the life-size menu half-heartedly, arms folded across her chest.

“Like anything?” he asks humbly. Long Island Iced Tea or a Mai Tai - depends on the flavours. His heart jolts when she shoots him a doubtful look and doesn’t answer, almost as if she’s wary of talking to him. She leans over the bar and gives the bartender a smile that makes his heart drop, especially when he grins back.

“Komt de mai tai in mango?” she asks, half-pouting when he shakes his head. “Een biertje, alsjeblieft,” she says finally, taking her second beer and turning away from the bar.

Namjoon doesn’t remember ever feeling this distant from her. “I’m glad you came tonight,” he tries again, choosing to look at her even though she’s facing away.

Kaya nods, pursing her lips and looking ahead. “Yeah, you said that already.” But her voice trembles ever so slightly, or maybe he just knows her so well that he’s sure it’s not a case of her not wanting to look at him - she can’t look at him.

It’s all on him now. He started this; if there is any hope of them still staying in each other’s lives, it’s down to him to make it happen. 

“How’s your dissertation going?” he asks, hoping her work is a topic she might open up on.

She shrugs after a moment. “Off schedule,” she answers shortly. “A lot of variables hanging in the air.”

“Did you get into the research project you’d applied for?”

It’s momentary but it appears: the corner of her mouth tilts upwards. “Yeah,” she admits, finally looking at him, albeit hesitantly. “Guess I’ll have a lot more time to focus on it now,” she murmurs, the hint of a smile fading.

Namjoon’s heart sinks. She’s so angry with him; it’s palpable and not something he has ever been on the receiving end of. Her hand hangs by her side; his own itches to link his fingers with his, maybe tug her to him or lead her out of this stupid party where he can plead for her to just look at him.

“Well,” he says, then pauses. “I’m glad you could get the time off tonight. Must have been hard.”

“M-hm, not really.” She shakes her head. “Adam wanted to meet but I’ll probably catch up with him later,” she adds nonchalantly.

Namjoon nods, his hand tightening around his glass. He can’t tell if she’s trying to provoke him, for they do work closely; close enough that Adam’s intentions have always been a point of disagreement for them. He’d never been able to explain to her just how much he hated the way her advisor looked at her when she didn’t notice, how his hugs always lingered a moment too long or how he insisted on calling her late in the evenings to discuss work.

He’s distracted momentarily by Jungkook, who approaches them while bopping effortlessly to the music and stops in between them, turning to face in the same direction as Namjoon and Kaya. He’s definitely tipsy; the smile on his face is too big and he doesn’t seem to be reading the room at all.

“Dilara is a really good dancer, isn’t she?” he says loudly in English to no one in particular. Namjoon frowns and follows his gaze to see Dilara, Taehyung and Hoseok dancing, before turning back to look at Jungkook. On his other side, Kaya is also frowning at him, tilting her head curiously. Their eyes meet and she raises her eyebrows slightly.

Namjoon fights a smile as Kaya half-chuckles and looks away, his heart twisting with longing at how much he misses her. She looks so incredibly beautiful; his eyes sting when he realises that there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“I’m gonna -“ He gestures vaguely and walks away in the opposite direction, desperate to be anywhere but around her before his resolve breaks.

The next half hour is a flurry of faces; Namjoon distracts himself with every single individual at the party, making small talk and exchanging unfunny jokes and hyper aware of Kaya occasionally glancing at him.

He knows, because he’s watching her, too, doing his best to make sure she doesn’t see him looking. He can’t even help it; it’s almost muscle memory at this point.

“Who are you looking at?” The woman he’s talking to asks him point-blank.

Namjoon flushes, realising he’d been staring at Kaya over her shoulder while she’d been speaking.

“No one,” he answers quickly. “Sorry.”

The twenty-something woman frowns curiously. “Are you sure? I’m not offended.”

“It’s… nothing.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor. 

“Ex-girlfriend?”

Ex. Not trusting himself to speak, Namjoon nods. 

“Hm.” She hums, somewhat sympathetically. “Bad break-up?”

“Pretty bad.”

“I’m sorry,” she says after a moment. “It’s never easy to be around an ex if it hasn’t ended well.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, desperate to change the topic. “All part of the process, right?”

“Right,” she says encouragingly. “Plus, once you’re past this phase, the one where you constantly want to die, you can begin the drink and eat and hook up as much as you want stage with no judgement.”

He chuckles politely, the prospect sounding horrendous. “Thanks. Feels good to laugh for real.”

She smiles wider and, before he knows it, leans forward and presses a kiss against his lips.

It takes Namjoon a couple of seconds of pure shock before he jumps backwards. “Whoa. What -“ His heart races uncomfortably. “What was that?”

“Sorry,” she says slowly, looking a little confused. “I thought… you wanted to make your ex jealous. Isn’t that where you were going with this?”

“No,” he clarifies immediately. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to - no.” In the midst of his minor crisis, he notes how the woman looks almost mortified.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine,” he cuts her off, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. He looks up out of habit and sees, unmistakably, Kaya leaving the restaurant, her long dark hair and the shimmery dark blue of her top disappearing out the door.

—

The night has gotten chillier in the last couple of hours and the cool wind hits her bare shoulders the moment she steps out, but Kaya barely feels it. She’s not thinking right now; thinking is what’s got them here, thinking about everything and overthinking to the point of fleeing a restaurant.

“Kaya!” 

Her feet increase their pace automatically the same time her stomach flips, but he’s taller and faster and he reaches her before she can even reach the elevator.

“Kaya,” he repeats hurriedly, reaching and grabbing her elbow. “Wait, please. I’m sorry -”

“Why did you even invite me here?” she asks, cutting him off and turning around to face him. She’s so tired; she didn’t think break-ups could be this exhausting. “You’ve barely said anything to me. Was it to show me in person how you’re moving on? Because if that’s the case, then… message received.”

Namjoon shakes his head immediately; he looks exhausted as well, and Kaya is once again struck by how much thinner he is, overcome with a mixture of empathy and frustration at him. 

“That was not - I didn’t plan that,” he says, sighing. “I don’t even know who she is. She kissed me and it wasn’t… come on, does it look like I’m moving on?” he asks, raising his arms helplessly.

Kaya stares at him and then sighs, shaking her head. “Why did you invite me here?” she asks again, less defensive this time.

“Because I wanted to see you,” he says at once.

She stares at him. “Well, you’ve seen me,” she says, sniffing. “Can I go now?”

“Kaya…”

“What?”

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, looking lost for words. “Please don’t -“ He breaks off abruptly before taking a step closer to her, his height both large and comforting. “I don’t want you to be sad. I’m sorry.”

Too late. “You’re not supposed to care how I feel. Not anymore.”

He lets out a humourless chuckle. “What?”

“We’re over.” She can hear the tremble in her voice as she crosses her arms across her chest again. “You said it yourself. You’re not supposed to care how I feel.”

“Really?” He narrows his eyes at her. “You think this break-up had anything to do with how I feel about you? You know as I do that it didn’t.” When she doesn’t answer, he sighs. “I did this because I care.”

“If you say so.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me or something?”

“Provoke you into what?” she blurts out. “What - what is that you want, exactly? What do you want us to do? Just circle around in each other’s orbits for the rest of our lives, while still being - while still feeling the way we do?” she asks, avoiding her almost-slip of tongue. “We’re just supposed to stay not be together and still stay in each other’s lives? What - what do you want?”

Namjoon opens his mouth but falls silent; it’s clear he hasn’t thought that far ahead - or he can’t say it out loud. “I want…” He begins, before pausing and starting again. “I want… you to be happy,” he says eventually. “And safe.” 

She scoffs and he bristles. 

“I’m serious. I -” He breaks off when someone exits the restaurant, his gaze following them until they’re out of sight before he turns back to her. “This is hard for me, too, you know? Why is it so hard for you to believe I might want you to be happy?”

Kaya exhales but doesn’t answer, because it isn’t hard to believe, not even a little bit. It’s unfortunately the most believable thing he’s ever said to her which means she can’t even fight it.

“How?” she asks finally. “By moving on, like you were pretending to do?”

Namjoon bites his lip and his eyes glaze over, and she knows he’s picturing it. His eyes fall to the floor but he nods slowly anyway. “Yeah, I guess. As long as I don’t have to watch it,” he adds in a mutter.

It’s really over. Kaya feels her eyes well up. “Fine,” she answers quietly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find someone to move on with tonight.” She turns to leave but feels him stop her again. “What?” she snarls.

“Kaya, I -” The lift opens and a handful of people tumble out, holding merchandise and talking loudly. Namjoon’s eyes widen and he immediately grabs her arms and walks her back into a corner, just as the group turns into their corridor and towards the restaurant.

“What are you -”

But the second lift opens just then and they hear the sound of a second group of voices. Namjoon swears under his breath and pushes open a door behind her, walking her back further into the tiny dark room and letting the door swing shut behind him.

“What is wrong with -“

“It’s press,” he hisses, and she falls silent.

He peers out into the corridor through the small window in the door; there’s no light except for the bit through the window and from a skylight in the ceiling. Kaya can smell something vaguely citric that she decides is floor cleaner; they are in a janitor’s closet.

She and Namjoon are frozen in place, his hands still on her arms and hers on his torso to keep from losing her balance. It’s been a long time since they’ve been this close; it takes Kaya a few seconds to realise that the voices outside have disappeared, but he still hasn’t moved away.

Almost as if he’s subconsciously heard her, his thumbs stroke her arm once. The simple touch makes all the anger crumble away for a moment, especially now that it’s just them with the rest of the world shut outside. Kaya hesitates for a moment, then gently rests her forehead on his shoulder. Namjoon stiffens but a moment later, she feels his fingers tighten above her elbows, followed by him loosely enveloping her in his arms.

It seems cruel, almost, that the target of her anger and source of her comfort lie in the same person. It isn’t even a hug; it’s a moment of weakness at best, borne from his almost subconscious need to protect her. For the first time, Kaya wonders if she’s being unfair to him.

Resisting the temptation to wrap her arms around his waist, she steps away from him with difficulty, her back touching the wall. His arms fall from around her reluctantly, his expression resigned. It’s dark but she can see him more clearly than she has all night.

“This is a terrible idea,” she murmurs, echoing her words from a month ago. “The worst you’ve ever had.”

Namjoon exhales shakily but doesn’t argue. “I meant everything I said in that note,” he says, not even trying to hide the tremble in his voice anymore. “And I really do want you to be happy.”

The note. The one he’d kept on her bedside table when he’d left her apartment while she slept, the only thing of his that was left when she’d awoken, naked and alone. She’d only had the strength to read it once before she’d broken down and tucked it deep into her drawer, knowing the words would be etched in her memory.

“You know what will make me happy,” she whispers, looking at the ground. She feels him come closer to her, one hand hovering by her side as though unable to decide if she’d want her to touch him. 

He finally rests it lightly on her waist, moving it slightly upward as she looks up at him, her heart twisting at how he’s unable to meet her eyes. She places her hands on his face, thinking vaguely how much she misses seeing his dimple.

“Joon,” she whispers, waiting for him to nod once. “Look at me.”

Namjoon visibly swallows, gaze still fallen. “Kaya, I…”

“No,” she interrupts him. “Look at me.”

With what seems like an enormous effort, he meets her eyes. This is hard for me too, you know? 

She knows. Kaya strokes his cheekbones with her thumbs, her touch feather-light. “Kiss me,” she whispers. She touches her forehead to his and closes her eyes, hoping he’ll give in, for she can’t go further than this. 

His hand tightens around her waist, pressing her into the wall. Their lips brush momentarily and he shivers.

“Do it,” she urges, her voice barely audible now. “Kiss me.”

She feels his lips before she even registers him moving against her and she leans into it, feeling like she can breathe for the first time in weeks. Come back to me, she thinks desperately. Come back to where you belong.

It’s like he can hear her. Namjoon pulls away, one hand on the wall beside her face for support, the other holding her.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and it sends a jolt of anticipation through her heart. “I love you, Kaya,” he adds, voice full of emotion. Kaya nods, unable to speak, wishing he would meet her eyes. He moves his hands to her face and touches his forehead to hers again, swallowing.

Look at me.

But he doesn’t. “But you have no idea,” he continues, every word sounding like it's costing him effort, “how I felt when you called me that night. The things that went through my mind…” He sniffs, and Kaya’s heart sinks. “I can’t let that happen again baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

She can feel her face start to contort and she drops her hands from his shoulders, for she knows this part by heart. “Goodbye, Namjoon,” she mutters thickly, sliding out from between him and the wall. She pushes open the door and hurries out, leaving him behind.

—

When she hears the knock on her front door the next morning, Kaya is just about to step into the shower. She freezes and sighs, for she really, really needs this shower. She considers ignoring it but the knock sounds again and she groans, abandoning the activity of tying up her hair and letting it fall loose instead. 

Grabbing the old, threadbare robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she pulls it around herself and shuffles to the front door. She peers through the peephole and her heart stops for a moment, but she steels herself and opens the door.

Namjoon stands before her, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly hunched. “Hey. I just wanted to - oh, God,” he switches abruptly, his expression changing from vaguely apologetic to shocked, and he slips inside the apartment.

“What?” Kaya asks, taken off guard and stumbling backwards.

“You really opened the door wearing that?” he hisses, shutting the door behind him. “I could’ve been anyone!”

“I knew it was you,” she argues, tightening the belt around her waist and realising, for the first time, how short the robe is. But she isn’t about to admit that to him, especially not when he’s turned up unannounced and decided to begin his visit by berating her. She folds her arms across her chest. “What do you want, Namjoon?”

He hesitates, almost as though he’s just noticing how displeased she is. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking a bit ashamed. “I didn’t mean to… anyway,” he says quickly, wringing his hands and slipping them back in his pockets. “How are you?”

Kaya shrugs suspiciously. He looks remarkably different from where she’d left him last night, almost breaking down and apologising to her. Right now, he seems almost… calm. She can almost imagine that last night had been a slip-up of emotion, possibly due to tiredness and an open bar, whereas in the light of day, he’s back to being the responsible ex who’s fulfilling his obligations by checking up on her each day.

“I’m great.”

He nods after a moment, clearly not believing her. “Well, I came here because…” He sighs and a glimmer of last night’s emotion appears on his face. “I thought about what you said last night. And you were right.”

The jolt in her stomach is almost painful, but Kaya hangs on. If he was talking about what she thinks he is, he would be delivering it far more differently.

“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t expect you to keep doing this,” he adds. “Staying in this limbo, not knowing…” He bites his lip and lowers his gaze, removing his hands from his pockets. “You have every right to move on. I want you to - to be happy.”

Kaya licks her lips slowly. “This,” she says coldly, “could’ve been a text.”

“I didn’t want to leave things the way they were last night,” he tells her, his voice softer. “You’re, uh…” His voice breaks off for a moment. “You’re the love of my life. And we were together for a long time and I… I loved every moment of it. I just want to say goodbye the right way.”

Her throat hurts holding back the rush of emotion that threatens to overwhelm her. 

“Are you sure?” She can’t resist asking, in a whisper. When he nods and lowers his eyes, she feels the heavy, heavy anchor of acceptance settle in her stomach. 

Namjoon hesitantly reaches out with one hand but when she gives him a look, he nods and steps forward, and they meet in their last hug, three and a half years after their first last hug in her apartment.

Kaya hugs him tight, no longer caring about hiding how she feels. There isn’t enough time to try and memorise everything so she doesn’t even try; she just goes higher on her toes and presses her nose into his shoulder, revelling in his scent one last time.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to be doing much better. He’s holding her tight, so tight that it doesn’t seem like he’s ever intending on letting her go. His face is in her hair and his arms stroke her back in small movements, his go-to movement to comfort her since they met.

Just a few more seconds. The sensations increase now; the feel of his shoulders, his chest touching hers - and she’s suddenly conscious of the thin robe being the only thing separating her naked body from him.

At the same time, his hands move to her waist - out of habit, she knows, but she can’t help but be extremely aware of it. His hand stops just above the curve of her hips, quickly and abruptly. 

Her mouth feels dry, but her legs press together. Then, as though he can read her mind and the direction her thoughts are invariably leading in, against her hip, she can feel his body react.

She lets out a soft gasp and feels his body stiffen around her. This is goodbye, a voice reminds her, urging her brain to focus on the matter at hand. But it’s slipping - fading, almost, as a physical urge struggles for dominance. 

Her lips brush his neck as she pulls away - she has to pull away - but it doesn’t matter in the end because somewhere along the way his lips find hers and all thought disappears, replaced by touch, feel and hunger.

Namjoon sighs into her mouth like he’s breathing for the first time, pulling her close. Her robe starts to loosen and he tugs at the belt, groaning when his hands touch her bare skin.

“Fuck, are you really not wearing anything under this?” he murmurs, his voice so low and reverberating so deep inside her that she shivers.

The robe is off; it’s cool and sudden air, a moment where his hands fall from her waist and then their back but this time, it’s skin against skin. It’s lips and sighs and tight grips, the feel of denim, her fingers moving out of habit as they unbutton and unzip - and then there’s pride and relief when she feels his desire for her, still the same as ever, no matter his words.

There’s something solid against her back; somewhere, dimly, her mind registers that her dining table is rickety and has her laptop on it, and then she’s leaning forward and he’s behind her and his chest is against her back and he wants her just as much as he wants him.

“Are you -“

“I’m still on birth control,” she confirms tightly, the next moment feeling his fingers on her hips and then he’s inside her again, after so long. She could almost sob at how good it feels, how right, the lips on her shoulder and his scent and touch.

But it’s over too soon. She gasps and falls forward, her ears ringing and heart hurting at the same time as her heart races. He’s getting close, too; she tries to memorise it now, the exact moment, but then he pulls out. It’s sudden, the emptiness, but the next moment, she feels wetness on her back.

It takes around ten seconds, ten seconds when she’s frozen before she finally hears him sigh and take a step away. A moment later, she reaches across the table and pulls the tissue box towards her, reaching behind and wiping her back.

Kaya turns slightly to see him pulling on his T-shirt, jeans buttoned already. She picks up her robe and pulls it on hurriedly, suddenly not wanting to be naked for even another microsecond in front of him.

Something feels wrong. It’s not the first time he’s finished on her; he’s done it before, on explicit request and without, none of which ever made her feel… like this. Self-conscious. Bare.

Namjoon clears his throat. “I -“ He meets her eyes, still panting slightly. “I still want to… do this right,” he says, sounding almost formal. “Goodbye, Kaya.” 

He starts to take a step forward but pauses. “Maybe we shouldn’t hug,” he murmurs, offering her a small smile. Kaya watches as he hesitantly offers her a hand.

This is goodbye. Kaya can’t remember ever feeling this uncomfortable around him. The momentary loss of her sense of reason feels like it’s returned in full form, and she tightens the robe around her. She starts to reach for his hand but then stops.

“This is what you meant?” she asks quietly. “When you said you wanted to do it the right way? You wanted to see if you could squeeze in one last fuck before you closed this out like a business meeting?”

“What?” Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No! I didn’t - I didn’t want that to happen! I mean - you know that’s not what I meant,” he adds quickly. “I didn’t plan this. You and I both -“

“You planned our break-up and I had no idea,” she cuts him off, the shame and embarrassment creeping up her throat. “I really don’t know anymore.”

He scoffs, but his eyes flicker like he’s been stung. “Is that what you think of me? We were both here, Kaya. It wasn’t just me - you wanted this just as much as I -“

“I slept with Adam.” 

Namjoon freezes. He swallows and his eyes flicker again, rapidly this time. “You’re lying,” he whispers.

Kaya shrugs, holding his gaze with every last bit of willpower in her. “You were the one who told me to move on last night,” she reminds him, watching his expression crumble and doing nothing to stop it.

After what feels like several minutes, or maybe even hours, Namjoon nods slowly. Then, without another word, he turns around and opens the door, walking out of her life and shutting the door behind him.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[spideybatsy]

A+B | Chapter Eight

Summary: GN!reader is falling in love with Bruce Wayne, even if they won’t admit it. Everything takes a turn for the worse when Bruce’s biggest secret comes to light.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: being held hostage, mentions of mental and physical abuse (not described), blood, implied smut

Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3

Masterlist

Bruce’s goodbyes took longer than expected and he ends up coming into the hallway to find Alfred already snooping around. Alfred’s relief at seeing Bruce is short-lived because he quickly starts searching again.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce has never seen him so concerned and is immediately on high alert.

The older man says my name while opening a corridor door. “They started coughing while on the telephone. A man said something and then the line went dead.”

Bruce’s heart plummets into his stomach and he quickly joins the search. Together, they go through every room in the hallway before something stops Alfred in his tracks. He calls Bruce over, who collapses at the scene.

There, folded neatly on the floor, are both our jackets. Lying on top is the necklace he’d just gifted me, the clasp broken as if it had been ripped off my neck.

--

It was well into the early hours of the morning that Alfred rushed down to the Batcave, demanding Bruce turn on the news. He tuned in at just the right time.

“Some viewers may find this footage disturbing, caution is advised,” the presenter said.

His already broken heart shatters as he spots my figure in the bottom corner of the video, rocking back and forth. Seemingly without any reason, I let out a blood-curdling scream. The camera angle changes to a close-up of my face. Fresh tears stream down my already tear-stained cheeks, and my entire body is shaking as my eyes dart around the room. My hand rubs at my nose, my fingernails are cracked with dried blood staining my fingers.

My eyes catch on something, and I start chanting one word over and over. Scarecrow. I begin violently screaming, trying to scramble further into the corner when the video cuts off.

“The man who calls himself Scarecrow sent this to Gotham Police with a typed letter demanding the presence of Bruce Wayne and Batman.” The presenter appears back on the screen. “Upon seeing both, he’ll return his hostage.”

--

When I wake up, I’m horrified to find the masked man standing over me.

“Don’t be scared,” his voice doesn’t sound as warped as it did before. “The toxin should be out of your system by now.”

“W-What do you want?” my voice is scratchy from all the screaming.

I flinch as he snaps his fingers, another man runs into the room and puts a tray in front of me. He’s gone before I can note any of his features.

“Eat up,” the masked man says.

I look down at the tray. It’s full of chocolate-covered strawberries.

“I-I’m not hungry.” I start wiggling away from the tray.

The man sighs, leaning down and taking a strawberry.

“They’re not going to hurt you.” He rolls it between his thumb and forefinger before lifting his mask to take a bite. I try to get a better look at his face, but he only exposes his mouth before pulling it back down. He then squats, so he’s closer to my eye level.

He points the half-eaten berry at me, and it takes me a moment to realise he’s holding it out for me to eat. He must see the hesitation on my face because he places it back on the tray and holds another one out to me.

“If you eat this, we’ll talk.” His words bring back memories of Bruce, who always wanted me to eat up before having a hard conversation.

Poor Bruce, he must be so worried. He’s always held himself responsible for my safety and now that I’m missing, I know he’s beating himself up. Maybe if I talk to this Scarecrow, he’ll reveal personal information that Bruce can use to catch him after he brings me home.

I shakily reach out and take the strawberry, nibbling at the tip. Scarecrow waits patiently while I eat, it takes about 15 minutes to finish. He doesn’t reach for another berry, so I take it as a sign to start talking.

“What do you want from me?” I cough as soon as I finish, and panic starts swelling through me. Did he put more of that stuff in the food?

“You’re coughing because your throat is in a horrid condition.” I find it unnerving that he can so easily read me. “And I don’t want anything from you, I’m merely testing a theory.”  

He hands me another strawberry but I’m not sure I can stomach it, so I just hold it in my hand.

“What theory?”

“A few months ago, one of my subordinates overheard a very stranger conversation between you and the Batman.” I rarely talk to suited-up Bruce in public. “Now he claims that The Prince of Gotham and Batman are the same person.”

I do what comes to me naturally and play it off. “A bit far-fetched, don’t you think?”

Jonathan seems entertained at my response. “That’s what I thought, too. Then, a few months pass and suddenly you’re attached to Mr Wayne’s side. Which made me think maybe there was some truth to this preposterous claim.”

“Why take me then?”

“It’s quite simple, really. I have you here, torture you a little and demand both Batsy and Bruce show up to get you. If they both come, I’ll know the theory is false. If there’s only one…”

I can’t stop the way my heart starts ramming against my ribcage. They can’t both show up. Scarecrow has him cornered.

“Batman doesn’t like rich people, what makes you think he’ll come for me?”

“You’re not rich.” Although I can’t see his face, I know he’s smirking. “Otherwise, you’d be a psychologist by now.”

How long has this man been spying on me? Invading my privacy? Perhaps it’s true what they say, you’re never truly safe.

He stands back up and heads for the door. With his hand resting on the handle, he looks back at me.

“They have four hours, then we’ll have to pump you with more toxin to take another video.”

“Don’t do that, please. I’m begging.”

He ignores my pleas and walks out, locking the door behind him.

--

I don’t know how long I sit in the room. It could’ve been 10 minutes, could’ve been 10 hours. At one point I swear smoke is bleeding from the vents but when I look back, there’s nothing. The overhead lights flicker and for a while, I’m in complete darkness.  My eyes adjust just in time for the room to illuminate again.

The dehydration gets to me and by the time the door opens again, my head is pounding. Someone hisses my name and then the masked man enters.

“You have a visitor.” He gestures behind him, and two goons drag in a slumped figure.

He’s so covered in blood that I don’t recognise him at first, but as soon as they throw him face-first into the concrete, I’m crawling over.

“Bruce,” I struggle to get him on his back. “Bruce, can you hear me?”

The door slams shut, leaving us alone. His right eye is swollen to the point of closure and a combination of fresh and dried blood paints his face. Still, his lips tilt up when he looks at me.

My tears are immediate, sliding down my cheeks and onto Bruce. My hands shake as I reach and wipe them from his face. His hand reaches up and slowly takes mine, intertwining our fingers.

“Are you okay?” His voice is rougher than usual.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I squeeze his hand.

His smile is a light in the darkness.

I slip my hand out of his grasp and he groans as I pull him up to lay his head on my lap. He shifts, then seemingly finds a comfortable position as he sighs and relaxes.

“How long have I been here?” I bring my hands to his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.

“12 hours,” he diverts his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

I use my grip on his hair to tilt his head back. His eyes are glassy, full of unshed tears.

“You came as soon as you could,” I whisper. “That’s all that matters.”

He nods but I know he doesn’t believe me. It’ll take a long time for him to admit this isn’t his fault. Even longer to forgive himself.

We stay like that until I drift off, feeling safe now that Bruce is with me. I don’t know what we’ll do next. If Bruce will break us out or if we wait for the police to come. But he’s here and I know he’ll protect me. No matter the cost.

--

I awake to the sounds of gunfire, immediately thrashing against my restraints.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” It’s only after this sentence is repeated a few times that I finally calm down.

The gunfire seems to be coming from outside, but the room is in complete darkness. Strong arms are wrapped around my waist and I’m sitting in Bruce’s lap, his head resting on my shoulder.

“What’s happening?” I find Bruce’s hand in the dark and entwine our fingers.  

“We’re being rescued,” his voice vibrates through my back.

“By the police?”

“I don’t think so.” He squeezes me tighter against him.

I open my mouth to respond when I’m blinded by the light. I blink a few times and as my eyes adjust, I see the silhouette of a caped crusader in the doorway. It’s Batman.

I find myself sinking further into Bruce’s grip, confusion spreading through my veins. If that’s Bruce, who is holding me? Or more likely, if Bruce is holding me, who is that?

“It’s okay,” Bruce whispers into my ear. He starts to stand up, bringing me with him. “I promise.”

He goes to set me on my feet, but my legs give way. I stumble forward and Batman catches me before Bruce has the chance to.

“I’ve got you,” his voice isn’t as deep as Bruce’s. I look up at his eyes, shocked to find them blue. They’re not as deep as Dr Crane’s, which is strangely relieving.

Bruce limps over, “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Can you walk?” The imposter Batman asks.

“I-I don’t think so,” I admit, wincing as soon as I put any weight on my right leg.

“Is anything broken?” Bruce asks, looking at ‘Batman’.

Batsy’s eyes scan over my body, his eyes squinted in concentration.

“No,” he says. “It seems like the toxin has loosened their muscles. Everything should be back to normal after a few days.”

“Thank you.” Bruce lets out a breath of relief.

He wraps his arms around me and with a grunt, cradles me to his chest.

“Bruce,” Batman places his hand on his shoulder. “You’re injured.”

“I can do it.”

“You’re hurt.” I place my hand on his other shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Please, let Batman,” I look sceptically at the man, “take me.”

I can see the hesitance on Bruce’s face, his eyes are glassy when he finally nods. The masked vigilante quickly takes me into his arms, holding me bridal style.

“I’ll be back in a second to get you,” he says to Bruce.

“Okay,” Bruce leans over and kisses my forehead. “Be careful.”

“Of course,” Batman speaks with sincerity.

He turns around and heads for the door, only stopping when Bruce yells across the room.

“Remember, there are cameras.”

Batman mutters an ‘of course’ under his breath and I felt a jolt run through me. Almost as if he had jumped and hit the earth again.

The stranger runs out of the room and down the hallway. I can’t help the tears that run down my face, anxiety for Bruce curling through me. He’s always been such a stubborn man, which has caused so many issues. He must be in so much pain to suddenly accept the help of this stranger.

“Bruce is okay.” The stranger says, “he’s just worried about you.”

“How do you know?” My voice is muffled as I push my face further into his chest, failing to hide my tears.

“I just do.”

I know he’s left the building when I feel the wind whipping at my hair. I lean away from him and take a deep breath, grateful for the fresh air. The stranger smoothly sits me on the grass before looking back at the building.

“I’ll be right back.” Before I can say anything, he’s gone.

Taking a moment, I look around. The sun is high in the sky, making me think it’s around midday. Based on what Bruce told me, I guess that I’ve been in that room for about 36 hours.

The grass is green and soft under my fingertips, and I run my hands through it, grounding myself. I’m sitting on a hill, overlooking the city of Gotham. My eyebrows furrow when I notice the barbed wire fence, trapping me with the building. Turning, I catch sight of the Arkham Asylum sign.

What on earth am I doing here? Does Dr Crane know that a criminal is keeping hostages in his asylum?

Questions are still running through my head when Batman walks outside, supporting a limping Bruce. I struggle to stand up and by the time I’ve got my footing, they’re right in front of me.

“Bruce,” I make toddler-like grabby hands at him, and he instantly hobbles to my side, taking me into his arms.

“Forgive me.”

Before I have time to ask what he’s talking about, lights start flashing behind me. It’s far enough away that I know it must come from behind the fence.

“What are they doing here?” I murmur, pressing my nose into the crook of his shoulder and neck, closing my eyes.

His hand rubs soothing circles on my back, “we need to make the idea of Bruce and Batman being the same person impossible.”

I hum into his neck; I understand why they’re here, but I still don’t want to look at them.

“The police are going to show up any second,” Bruce whispers in my ear. Like clockwork, I can hear sirens in the distance. “Are you okay to talk to them?”

I nod into his neck, refusing to open my eyes. “Just don’t leave me.”

“Never.”

--

It’s night by the time we get back to the manor. After the police arrived, they ushered us past the press and straight to the hospital. I had to almost beg for Bruce to be checked, as his stubbornness reared its head again. Once we’d been cleared, we were taken back to the station for statements. While it had been painful to relive, Bruce was by my side the entire time. His hand never left mine.

Batman had vanished into the night the second the police arrived, having had whispered something into Bruce’s ear.

We are approaching the steps to the house when the door opens, and Alfred basically flies out. Before I could get out a word, he pulled me into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” his tone is one I’d never heard before.

I wrap my arm around him and squeeze him tight, my other hand still holding Bruce’s.

Alfred ushered us inside, where a man is sitting on the couch. He stands up and walks over, shaking hands with Bruce.

“I’m so glad to see you’re okay,” he says, turning to me.

“Thank you,” I can’t help but move closer to Bruce, causing him to wrap his arm around my waist.

“A, this is Clark.” Bruce gestures to the man, “Our stand in Batman.”

I can’t help the blush that runs from my neck to my cheeks.

“O-Of course, it’s lovely to meet you.” I reach out and shake his hand.  “Sorry, I’m very tired.”

I can feel Bruce’s eyes piercing my skin, his hand squeezing my waist.

“It’s okay,” Clark smiles. “I better head back to Metropolis, I just wanted to check you were both okay.”

Bruce grabs his shoulder. “I owe you one.”

Clark smiles, “No, you don’t.”

--

I trace Bruce’s scars with my fingertip, amazed at their number. You’d never expect a billionaire to have a bruise, never mind various welts of scar tissue. He shivers as I run over a sensitive spot, nudging his face further into the crook of my neck.

“What are you doing?” his voice is muffled, but I still hear him clearly.

“Memorising you,” I whisper.

He pulls his head back and leans his cheek against my own. “Why?”

“Why not?” I run my finger over his sensitive spot again, amazed when the skin twitches. There’s something incredible about having such a massive effect on such a gorgeous man.

“You’re not planning on going anywhere, are you?” I can feel his frown and confirm it as he pulls back to look me in the eyes. The blanket around his waist shifts, revealing the top of his backside.  

“Not without you,” I admit. “But I do feel like we’ve earned a holiday.”

I slide my hand down his back and to the curve of his ass, which is scarless and soft. He shifts in my grasp, and I feel him start to harden against my thigh.

“Maybe you’re right,” he sighs, ghosting his lips over mine. “You pick a time, I’ll pick the place.”

“Where do you have in mind?” He skates his hand down my side, resting it on my hip.

“Somewhere hot,” all at once he pushes me onto my back and slots his hips between my thighs. He’s leaning on his elbows to avoid crushing me, but his body is pressed firmly against mine. “Somewhere that doesn’t require many clothes.”

I’m giggling when he finally kisses me, taking my breath away.

[theliterarywolf]

I think the worst thing about the whole welcome home situation is that it really brings to light 1. just how "commercialized" the perception around creative pursuits has become (it might not be the right word but I can't think of another one). like this isn't [insert random corporation]'s IP #67484934 but someone's own work they are still directly involved in and unaffiliated with any major company. and 2. somehow the basic concept of respecting boundaries has been lost not just on fanpol but some proshippers too it seems. "no nsfw of my original characters please" is a pretty reasonable boundary actually and if someone feels the need to do it anyways they should at least have the decency to keep it private and away from the og creator instead of mocking them for *checks notes* being so arrogant as to have one boundary on interacting with THEIR work that they were so kind as to share with others on the internet

"Just how "commercialized" the perception around creative pursuits has become"

No, that's it exactly and we can see this echoed and causing the trickle effect that has led to the current situation with art and creative media in general.

Look at how the concept of a good adaptation (books, games, comics, anime, etc) is a rarity and not the norm. It's because you have a bunch of talking-head studio-executives not seeing the IPs they're scrambling over as creations from individual groups and artists but just something to get eyes on a watered-down screen, milk for ad-revenue, and then repeat the process with another IP.

Look at how the Triple-A video game space has turned into less of a 'we want to create fresh new experiences and ideas' and more 'okay, let's get a skeleton crew to make enough of a game to justify DLC and live-services for a year or two... Okay, time to do the same thing over again!'

Look at NFTs and AI "art" and how, the only reason why those two things were able to rise to the plague they currently are is because you have this brain-dead portion of the population who refuse to see art as a practiced skill of human labor that should be paid for and appreciated as such but, instead, they just 'want something pretty to look at for a second before getting another something pretty to look at for a second before...' Ad-nauseum.

Two perfect recent examples of that last one: one dude who calls himself rapidly making 'better' art of Princess Peach when all he's doing is clicking on an AI and getting nightmare amalgamations that look worse than pre-Toy Story Pixar and one person who made a piece of Sonic fanart with a human fem!Sonic in the center but all the 'Sonics' around her looked more inbred than the Hapsburgs.

But, of course, even with actual artists pointing out 'hey, these look wonky/weird/bad', you have thousands of people who don't care. Why? Well, look back to a certain comment that people use to dunk on current Star Wars, Marvel, and other mainstream IPs:

'Don't ask questions; just consume product and then get excited for the next product'.

No one wants to think about the creators of their favored IPs anymore. They just want to be given the shiny new ball to treat (or mistreat) in any way they see fit for a while before dumping it to the wayside a month or so later to do it to something else. And if, heaven forbid, you get a creator who dares to want to have some matter of agency with how people engage with their creation, well...

'Why do you hate people having fun?'

'Well, I'm just going to do it anyway.'

'So... Anyway, these characters are now mine because the creator is obviously shitty and doesn't know them as well as I do'

And then

The Cycle

Repeats

Anew.

[patchwork-oil]

❧ "Blue Hour”

Chapter 2/?

Pairing: Karkat/Reader (Gender Neutral) Word count: 2,386 Warnings: strong language

Summary: Turns out, you forgot Nepeta was stopping by. She’ll be able to help you sort through your feelings, though.

Author’s Note: Happy Christmas Eve I guess? What better is there to do than write fanfic lollll

As is only reasonable, I refused to think anymore. I went completely head-empty watching some videos on my phone in the dark of my room before eventually passing out without a thought to my name. Everything should go by perfectly, I’ll forget about yesterday and today should proceed as normal.

Right?

I lay in a half-asleep stupor when something possesses me to check my phone. 11:30 AM..? How late was I up watching videos... A Pesterchum notification?

AC: :33< hey (name)! be there at 12!

Oh.

AC: :33< ill make karkitten open the door if youre sl33ping in again h33h33 AC: :33< is it pawlright if aradia comes too?

Oh no.

I completely forgot Nepeta was stopping by to pick up part of her cosplay she left behind last time we held DnD here. And we’re supposed to go out to the craft store after.

With all the practice of a college student who had woken up minutes before class began way too many times, I rush out of bed and get dressed in a flash—it’s just Nepeta and Aradia, they can handle it if I accidentally wear my shirt backwards. Breakfast! Breakfast? Is there time for breakfast?

I scramble out the door and beeline it to the fridge. Yogurt will have to do. Karkat was leaning over the counter with a bowl of cereal and his phone in hand, watching me in bewilderment.

“(Name)-“

“Hm?!” WHAT. Why didn’t he start by swearing at me? What does he want? I probably responded too fast-

“-if you have the time, which, by the looks of it, maybe you don’t… No, wait, what the hell has you all flighty?”

“Um!” I shovel some yogurt into my mouth and dunk the empty container in the trash. “See, uh, in like, 10 minutes Nepeta’s coming over?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, (Name), you know we tell each other before we have guests,” he moves to pick up his bowl.

“No, no! She won’t be staying—we’re leaving right after. I would have told you yesterday if we had something planned, but really she won’t be here long so I forgot. I… also overslept, sorry.”

Karkat’s face contorts, trying to read me as if I were a sign across the room. I find myself avoiding his gaze, for some reason. He gives up, and with a sigh places the food back down.

“Fine.”

“… Aradia too.”

“Fuckin’—The more the goddamn merrier, I guess.”

I smile in relief and wash the spoon I was using. He seems to have forgotten what he wanted to talk to me about, so that’s a plus!

“So,” Goddammit. “I just wanted to say-“

“Brush my teeth! I have to go brush my teeth. Tell me after?”

“Wha-“

I’m in the bathroom with the door closed before I hear the end of that. Why the HELL am I freaking out so bad? I don’t even know what he wants to say! It probably isn’t about last night. There isn’t even anything to say about last night! I was just on top of him a little! Roommates can get touchy with… each other… no they don’t. Do they? I’m spitting out paste before I even realized I started brushing. I check myself in the mirror. I really could have messed up today with forgetting to tell him about Nep coming over. I owe it to him to at least listen to what he has to say. Can’t find a solution when you’re too scared to look at the problem, or something.

I pull open the handle in defeat.

“Hi Karkat!” That’s… not my voice.

“Hey Nepeta. (Name)’s in the bathroom. Yeah, Aradia, go ahead. Make this your hive.” Karkat dripped with all the sarcasm I was to blame for.

“Hi! I’m here, I'm almost ready! I just need to grab my bag and stuff.”

Karkat was holding the door open as Aradia and Nepeta filed in. I wave to them both as they talk quietly between themselves. Karkat’s iconic scowl hit me like a headshot. Yeah. He’s going to tear me to shreds when I get back.

I mouth “sorry” at him as I hurry past.

Last week, I stored Nepeta’s delicate cosplay hat in my closet when I noticed she had left it here. I suppose if I kept it out I wouldn’t have forgotten about today, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.

Her craftsmanship is gorgeous. From what I remember, Kanaya knit the base as some sort of a beanie, but Nepeta created these intricate fantasy flowers and sewn them into a sort of laurel configuration around the rim. I loved Nep’s DnD character, probably the most interesting out of the groups just by the way Nepeta role-played her, but the cosplay she brings every week just goes to show how much time and care went into creating the character as well. A druid swiftstride shifter, can’t get more Nepeta than that. 

I should probably stop gawking and get back out there.

“Eee! Thank you so much for keeping it safe!” I feel almost too guilty to smile when Nepeta takes the hat from me. She puts it on as she bounces excitedly in place, apparently down to wear it out of the house. Honestly, she should wear it everywhere with how much time it must have taken to make.

“Of course! I’m just sorry about oversleeping today. We should get going right away. Have you guys eaten?”

“No,” says Aradia, stepping out into the hallway. “When Nepeta told me you weren’t answering, we both suspected you’d be too busy rushing to get ready to eat.”

“Wow! Geez, gumshoe, give me a break.” The other two are already down the hall when Karkat grabs me by the arm.

“Kar!?“

“We are going to talk when you get back. And before you flip whatever’s left in your stupid, rotting thinkpan, I’m. Not. Mad at you.”

… Allllllright.

Kinda out of character for Karkat if I’m honest.

His eyes bore into me with some expression I couldn’t understand. Yet, despite staring down each other for what felt like the rest of the afternoon, I don’t get the chance to dumbly respond with at least an “okay” before he shuts the door. _________________

Aradia pulled us to a cafe when I said I couldn’t stop dreaming about a hot breakfast sandwich. I’m honestly just saying anything to try not to think about how serious Karkat sounded. The other two go secure a table outside while I stand waiting for our orders. The cafe is almost crowded but mostly it’s pleasant with its mild chattering. I’m just grateful to sit outside in the crisp autumn air, hopefully it will clear my head. A tray appears on the counter before me and a server calls my name.

Nepeta and I have been friends nearly since college began. We were both art majors and we just clicked too well not to stick like glue. To top it off, I adored her art style. I often tell her how adorable her art style is, but she compliments mine back just as much if not more. She majored in 2D animation and it always felt like she was much more well-rounded than me. We make it a habit to gush about each other’s art constantly, she’s more than aware of how much I admire her. I mean, she’s getting plenty more commissions than I ever had.

And Aradia was a friend that Nepeta had introduced me to when we were batting around the idea of starting a DnD session. There’s no one with better time management than Aradia, and that’s like half the battle of being a dungeon master, I’m pretty sure. Not to mention her stories are always so exciting, she really knows how to make it feel like we’re really exploring dungeons and looting ruins.

The only other players in our session are Dave and Karkat, Dave who claims to have been dragged along by Aradia and Karkat who wouldn’t shut up about it until I let him join back when we first started dorming together. Ever since him and I got that table, we’ve been using it every other Sunday to play together in person.

“(Name)? Hellooo?”

“Ah! Sorry, did you say something? I was totally in my head.” Nepeta had apparently been trying to get my attention. Maybe this is more of a ruminating week.

“Heehee! You seem like you have a bit of a full heart, lately. You were acting strange since you caught up with us back at your apartment.”

“Huh? Oh...”

“Something on your mind?” Aradia leaned in.

I guess I trust these two more than anyone…

“I… Promise it’s not a big deal. In fact I’m pretty sure I’m making a bigger deal of it than it needs to be.” The two share a look briefly. “It was just something that happened between me and Karkat yesterday.”

“Did you guys fight?” Aradia asked way too fast and with too big a smile on her face. She does love drama after all.

“No. Not really, I guess. Well, it’s weird. And you have to promise not to make fun of me because this is actually super easy to make fun of me about.”

They both start giggling, which evolves into just full laughter.

“Right, not sure why I even asked,” I laugh along with them.

“We won’t! We won’t, we’ll be so serious,” Nepeta mediates with a lingering smirk.

“Nepeta, do you, like...” I look for my words like they’re somewhere on the table with my sandwich. “When you lived with Equius, did you guys… hug?”

“Yes of course! But I also just hug people all the time.” She demonstrates by half-hugging Aradia right next to her.

“What, did you just hug Karkat for the first time?” Aradia asks incredulously, almost ignoring Nepeta at her side.

“No,” I say with almost a scolding tone. “We’ve hugged before… I think. It’s not about that. I’m sorta just trying to find a roundabout way to explain… Well, I sorta was on top of him.” 

“YOU WHAT?” They scream in unison.

“NOT LIKE THAT! It wasn’t like that! I just had my leg on his! But we were really close and for I don’t know how long—we were playing a game together!”

“Well what did he do?” One of them asks, I’m too busy burying my head in my hands.

“So when we won the level, at some point he put his arm on my back? And we still didn’t notice until we looked at each other.”

“And?”

“And that’s it”

“That’s it?” Aradia presses.

“Yes ‘that’s it!’ And I’m freaking out!”

“Really, (Name). That seems pretty normal to me! You both got excited is all. Even if it is weird that Karkat gets excited at anything at all,” Aradia tries to reason, Nepeta stays focused on me.

“But I really can’t read him! Ok, but this morning is when it gets weird. I think he was trying to talk to me about it, but I’m way too scared to hear him out.”

“What is there to be scared of? You’re the only one Karkat doesn’t really scream at. He’s more at, like, 70% with you at most.”

“I’m not scared of that. I… don’t know. That’s what I’m having trouble with. I don’t even know why I’m nervous. I just don’t want anything to change between us. He’s the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

“Are you worried he may have liked you all along?” Nepeta asks very quietly, but very pointedly. I stare at her like she has the answer written on her face.

“I… think so. I guess that’s what I haven’t been able to put into words. I don’t know how I’d feel if this whole time he was only nice to me because he liked me like that. Only moved in together because…”

My heart catches in my throat, I really don’t know what I’d do…

The two share a look, this time more troubled.

“(Name)…” Aradia starts.

“I don’t think that’s happening. I mean no offense, but when Karkat likes someone, it’s very obvious. We would have seen something during our sessions at the least,” Nepeta finishes.

Oh, right. It’s no secret Nepeta had a huge crush on Karkat for a very long time. It wasn’t until maybe sophomore year that we encouraged Nepeta to tell him, all of us knowing fully well he didn’t feel the same way. It was strange, though, the way Nepeta gained a lot of confidence after he rejected her feelings. She was a completely different, happier person. They’d been friends much longer than I knew either of them, but it was only after that day that they both seemed completely honest with one another. Karkat, too, could laugh around her more and more since then. I hope I’m not reviving any bad history.

“And if I know him, I’d say he’s probably trying to clear this up as well.”

“Nepeta’s right. Everyone noticed how you started to act similar once you were dorming together. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was freaking out as much as you for the same reasons.”

I sighed as if I had been out of breath. “So there’s nothing to worry about?”

“Not at all,” Nepeta smiled and put both hands on one of mine. She looked absolutely charming with the afternoon sun on her hat and her cute cat-ear horns.

“Aw man. It would have been much more exciting if he made a move on you. Imagine how awkward next session would be.”

“I don’t think you’d like that as much as you say you would, Aradia.”

“It would enhance your characters!”

The heavy air leaves the table with our fit of laughter. I’m definitely ready to see Karkat tonight, even if he needs to cut me to ribbons.

“Thank you guys. I promise I’ll be more present for the rest of the day.”

Nepeta perks up “You better! I just got a huge commission and I want to spend all day in the craft store!”

Aradia tags along. “And I’ve been getting into woodworking, we may have to stop at a hardware store too.”

“Oh, what the hell! All I need is a new sketchbook!”

Previous Chapter

Author's Note: I always wanted to read a fic where Aradia and the reader were friends :3

I don't know why tumblr isnt letting me do my indenting :( i love my indenting

[melonba11s]

Normal Morning (Strade/Melly fanfic)

Just a little piece I worked when I woke up!

Features: Character with amputated leg, very mild body horror, non-human MC, Strade

Melly awoke with an arm around her stomach. That was pretty normal these days. Strade liked having her close by, watching her leg every day. Her leg that no longer existed. 

Her stomach turned less than it should have. Maybe if this had been two weeks ago she’d have vomited at the thought. But several days in a basement having your nails pulled off and your throat fucked like a fleshlight tended to steel you to such things. 

She sighed heavily. She didn’t usually think so negatively. 

She feared she was becoming jaded. 

“Awake?” Strades' sleep fogged voice danced across her ears. Hot disgusting morning breath made her wrinkle her nose. 

“As awake as I can be.” She replied. And here came the other reason that Strade liked having her close by. 

“... Why does a plant need to sleep?” The questions. None of them were mean spirited. He was just curious. Really curious. A curiosity he wanted sated about her so badly that it ended up with her having a metal collar around her throat. 

She supposed the fact she could grow parts back didn’t hurt either. She gave a yawn, her tongue stretching out past her lips. Green. Everything inside her was green. 

Without sunlight her skin was taking on a greenish tone too. She glanced down at her leg. A weird thick fleshy tendril was extending out of the stump. It had no resemblance to a working leg. 

She hoped that was normal. She supposed she should answer Strades' question. 

“I actually looked that up. I thought maybe I could stay up infinitely watching anime or playing video games. Then I passed out at work, fell over and made everyone scared that I was narcoleptic. So when I was home I went onto google and it turns out plants do kinda sleep. They have a circadian rhythm they follow and are less active during the night.” 

She recanted the bare bones research back with a casual flatness to her voice. A “Matter o’ fact” tone that led people to think she knew what she was talking about. 

She didn’t know if that was true even. But she liked sleeping and apparently needed it so it would do. 

“... Narcolepsy. Did they make you see a doctor before you could return to work?” Strade asked. Melly groaned, remembering how she had awoken the moment her skull hit the thinly carpeted floor.  A hand flew to her head and she scrambled up to her knees, crawled then up to her feet and ran to the bathroom. Because there was no way she could explain green blood to people. 

No bleeding though, just a bump that would bruise. And a greenish bruise was explainable. 

“No, I came out and uh. Told them that I hadn’t slept in two days because I was watching anime. So they all just laughed and one person said she was glad she wouldn’t have to cover my shifts. “Haha classic Melly”. You know?” She began to stretch, trying to wriggle out from Strades casual hold on her. 

His grip stayed firm. 

“... Have you ever been to a doctor?” he asked. 

“If I had been I’d probably be in a lab somewhere and not here. Starting to think maybe I’d prefer the lab.” Strade gave out several bouts of huffy laughter. 

“A lab wouldn’t be as kind to you, Pflanze. No comfortable bed, no TV, no snacks. You’d grow thin and wither away.” Strade’s grip tightened now, pulling her back against him. Melly thought about it. She did need her snacks. 

“... Can I get up? I want coffee.” She reached forward, groping for the crutch Strade had graciously made for her. She uttered a cuss as her fingers bumped it and it fell forward, hitting the floor with a loud clatter. 

If Ren hadn’t been awake before he was now. 

“You know caffeine will stunt your growth.” Strade said, getting up. So he was going to free her. That was nice. 

“Yeah yeah I’ve heard that one before. But I told you I just. Came out like this. Fully grown. I have no room to grow.” 

“No No I looked it up. Caffeine stunts root production in plants. Your leg will probably grow back slower.” Strade walked around to the other side of the bed and picked up her crutch, handing it to her. 

Melly tested out the crutch, then her good leg before standing up, leaning on the polished wood. 

Normally she’d want her leg to grow back quickly. She missed being able to stretch it and walk on it and kick with it. But the faster it grew back, the more likely Strade would take it off again. 

“Load me up then.” she finally said, making her way past him. “Let this shit take an eon to come back.” 

[twilightknight17]

So opinions on P5x?

"But why, tho?"

I get it. I do. Money, obviously. But like, if you wanted to make money, you could have done a lot of other things. Even a lot of other mobile games.

But this thing... The implied scenario from the trailers contradicts so many things in the established canon. If they were going to do something non-canon just for fun, like the crossovers with other mobile games, they could have gone a better route. If they had offered up a game that was "create your character and go on Mementos missions with the Phantom Thieves", I would not be remotely as disgruntled with the concept.

But no, we've got a redheaded protag whose thief outfit looks like a Joker knockoff (which we already got with Sumi??), and a new animal mascot who can also turn into a vehicle?? Even though there's a specific cognitive reason why Mona can turn into a bus. There's no particular reason why the owl should be able to be a van, other than being the "Morgana" of the group. The other three kids... eh. I dunno. The two we don't have names for have nice thief gear, I guess. The other girl kinda just looks like Chie in Tomoe's outfit.

(And the owl's codename is "Cattle"? WHY?)

I like the persona designs, and god, I love the aquarium Velvet Room. But even the Velvet Room is fucking me up. Is that Igor, or is it Yald? Igor was locked in the isolation cell. It can't be him. This can't be post-canon, because Mementos is gone. Why would Yald give some other group of kids access to the nav? Why are the attendant's eyes the wrong color? Why is she named after one of the Pleiades (P2????) instead of a Frankenstein character?

(As Jade put it, did Nameless cheat on Belladonna? XDDD)

I guess I just don't understand why they did this thing, that seems like such a mess story-wise, rather than the multitude of other things they could have done that people would eat up.

Mobile game of Goro solving cases in the backstory?

Mobile game of the Shadow Ops hunting down Maruki to ask him how the hell he had an outer god in his head and didn't die?

Twitch simulator where you run Akane's livestream?

Royal sequel to parallel Scramble?

Just make Star Forneus or the Featherman video game???

Ports of P1 and P2? Put them all on Switch, do it do it do it do it.

Properly-translated version of Eternal Punishment?

Hell, straight-up remakes of the older games.

Or just like... work on P6.

Don't just give us P5 again but with a different group of kids that we don't care about. One of the bosses in the trailer just looks like Shadow Kamoshida, for fuck's sake. The same part-time jobs, the same minigames, it's just stupid. It's a waste of time, when they could be working on better things.

In conclusion, I don't want this. From what I've seen, most people don't want this. And apparently right now, there's no plans for it to even release outside of China, so we can just set it in the recycling bin and ignore it. And none of these people are showing up in Hours, so no one better ask. XDDDD

Well, maybe the aquarium. But the aquarium is cool. :'D

[hours2hours]

THE HAWKINS PARADOX: CHAPTER TWO

BEEP BEEP BEEP. I nearly drop my guitar on the floor scrambling to shut off my morning alarm. Around the four-hour mark of staring at the white popcorn ceiling, I figured it pointless to even try. There isn’t a lot to do in this room, house, or town. It could be a reason Annie and I have to make our own fun day in and day out. I could stay awake watching stupid internet videos, but this time I decided to give an old hobby a shot. Most of the time I spend my nights lying awake listening to music, or staring at the strange words etched into the ceiling, hours to hours. But since my dog was killed, not even music can silence my own head. 

Guitar in hand, I continue my struggle. It’s a song I noticed Miles listening to in chemistry the other day, and when I gave it a listen I figured it was simple enough. Turns out, when you refuse to practice your hobby for three years you suck ass at it. The song is nowhere near complicated, but keeping a consistent tempo is impossible when your fingers need to be in the exact position and angle for the notes to sound good. When I get it right three or four times in a row, I’ll screw it up after the fifth every time.

It’s time to get up, but if I try a few more times I can get it, I have to.

“Take it slow, ya dumbass,” I mumble. It takes another two attempts to pick up a consistent pattern. Slowly at first, the warm feeling arises in my chest. A calmness I cannot achieve without feeling a song in my hands, a feeling like no other. Caught up in this feeling, I surprise myself by softly singing the lyrics. My voice is cracked, raw, and embarrassingly off-key. Maybe if I sung just a bit louder… then Ruby would hear for sure.

Then my peeking eyes happen across an old pile of loose towels and blankets. Once it was a random assortment of laundry, until it made a permanent stay as Tobey’s bed. My fingers twist into a pretzel once again, I groan and toss the guitar a foot in front of me.

Whatever, maybe I’ll give it a shot in another three years. 

Beams of morning sun shine through cracks in the curtains, creating streaks through stale air and pot smoke. The room itself is nothing short of a wreck, cluttered with unopened schoolbooks, incomplete assignments, mounds of clothes, garbage, and a tattered red guitar that sits face down. It looks just as embarrassed as I for how I played all night. 

I rise and jam it onto its stand, stretching my aching spine and yawning with restlessness. I throw a dark red shirt over my head and replace pajamas with torn navy-blue jeans that fit the same as they did in ninth grade. To complete the outfit, a throw a flannel shirt over my shoulders, just as worn as the rest. If I remember right, most of my clothing belonged to my late uncle. Was it alcohol poisoning? I loosely fit an oversized beanie to cover my mess of shaggy brown hair and creep into the hallway.

The next door down, just across the infinitely backed-up bathroom is Ruby's half-opened door. I hear her quiet breathing and as I pass, catch a glimpse of her sitting slouched over her desk. No doubt passed out catching up on all her orders. I’ll never forget how estatic Ruby was the first time she sold a knit hat on her store, so of course I had to buy some. If my wardrobe is going to be decades old, at least my beanie collection is always fresh. Some cope with small town life by doing drugs and committing crime, and some are yarn addicts. In fact, it’s pretty much all she ever does aside from study, either working on new patterns or updating her website. It’s good for her, it makes her happy, but it doesn’t help pay the bills. Not that it’s my problem, but I won’t ignore the incessant cries from our mother about getting a “real job”.

It’s clear that she fell asleep before setting her own alarm, so I push through the door and gently shake her awake. She remains fastened to her desk, I should have known she wouldn’t have gotten up so easily. 

“Wake the hell up Ruby, you’re gonna be late for class,” I say close to her ear. She jolts from her desk, startled, where I can see that the glitter strewn over her desk has stuck to her face. The rest of the surface is covered in stickers, bottles of resin, and cheap little gemstones. Her eyes catch this in a second after waking up, “Oh no, I what a wreck.”

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” I say.

“Can’t believe I fell asleep, I’ve still got like thirteen orders to finish by tonight.”

“Don’t you have a test in half an hour?”

“You don’t gotta remind me,” Ruby groans, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “Don't you got the same test?”

It doesn’t seem important to mention there’s zero chance of me passing a class, nevermind this test. “Just hurry up. You’re my ride today.”

I raid the fridge, longing for a decent breakfast or even a coffee that we don’t have. Unsurprisingly, the fridge is barren as ever without so much as an egg or two to keep the hunger pangs at bay. 

Ruby comes barreling down the stairs while tying her hair into a bin. She pops a pop tart into her mouth and toes her shoes. It’s easy to see the qualities my twin sister and I share. Same drooping green eyes, medium-length brunette hair, same slender body that refuses to grow past 5’ 5”. I’ll never forget when my gym teacher called me by her name on accident while leaving class, Aaron of course called me Ruby for months.

Just as I begin to lace my shoes, she pops back in to grab her schoolbag. Nearly as forgetful as me, though not a burnout by age eighteen.

Though I'm dying to ditch school today, I hop in her car. She nags me to buckle up but I’m either too high or too tired to care. She drives us down the back gravel road, turning down Mainstreet past downtown Matlock.

It shouldn’t be understated just how nothing of a town Matlock Beach is. There’s an arcade down Mainstreet and a recently renovated cafe where Miles works, but that's about it.We’re nearly an hour drive from the city of New Matlock down south, and north will consist of trees, more trees, and then the north pole. Considering nothing interesting ever happens here, it means when something strange does happen, it sticks out big time. I can’t think of a day these streets weren’t quiet and calm, with groups of friends quietly walking to school or studying in the grass. I can’t recall ever seeing a police car barreling down the street, sirens blaring. At least when Annie and I haven’t been involved.

“Woah,” Ruby says, “wonder what that’s about.”

“No kiddin’” I reply, keeping an eye on it as it speeds past the rearview mirror. It disappears down a gravel road, and without much further thought we arrive.

After quick “See ya later”s, Ruby heads to class early, while I head to the learning commons. Miles usually spends his mornings here, either reading or doodling in his sketchbook. But his corner is empty, strange. Though we did have a late night after all. 

 I set my backpack down and take a seat while I wait, but two other faces greet me instead. Annie quickly pulls out a chair across from me and sits while Otto stands straight with his hands resting in the pocket of his hoodie. Something is unusual about the way Otto looks at me though, his eyes are even more vacant than normal, but it’s uncertain if I’m reading fear or worry. Neutral Otto doesn’t usually convey much of anything in his face, another strange thing about today. 

“Have y’all seen Miles?” I ask as soon as Annie sits down.

Otto speaks in soft monotone, hardly audible above the commotion. “We came to talk about him.”

“Yeah,” Annie adds. “Remember his brother?”

“I remember Mateo. Why?”

“Because he’s fucking dead.”

Otto places a hand on Annie’s shoulder, she nudges away. “We don’t know that, Annie.”

“Hold up, Annie. What happened?” The police car shooting down the street, I didn’t even realize it was headed down his street.

Annie whips out her phone and opens facebook, revealing a post from Gael Ramos, Miles’s father. It shows a photo of Mateo and information about his disappearance. 

“Why else would the pigs suddenly show up?” Annie turns to Otto, “Unless they found a body.”

“We don’t know anything for certain,” Otto replies. Annie just rolls her eyes.

I stand with my bag slung over my shoulder, making a beeline for the front doors.

Without a word, Annie is by my side.

“Where are you going Annie? We have a test!” Otto shouts across the crowd. 

“Something came up, good luck though!” she sings back.

Otto stops and watches us leave. Skipping class is not something he takes lightly, he wouldn't miss a lecture if the school caught fire.

“See you later!” Annie calls on the way out the door. She seems excited, considering Miles is going through the most hellish morning of his life.

“He won't keep your grades afloat if you keep ditchin’ him like this.”

“You know he has a thing for me, he’ll come through like always. Besides, I always have your back.” And despite every shitty thing that's happened lately, that fact will still bring me comfort. 

It isn't long before we approach the house with a police car in the driveway. They must still be asking questions, but I have to make sure Miles is okay. It was such a stupid idea for him to come with us yesterday. We creep up the little yard and closer to the grunts of a grumpy cop. Annie and I position ourselves just below an ajar window, perfect for eavesdropping. 

 Now we can both hear Miles, hardly able to breath, struggling for an excuse. 

“...yes, tell us, please. You ran off without telling anyone, disappeared all night. Now this?” The mans voice a low rumble, with a hint of a spanish accent.

“I only want to step outside and catch my breath. Please?”

“Answer us!”

“I don’t know what happened to Mateo. It’s the truth!”

“Fuck these guys,” Annie says too loud for comfort.

“Didn’t know Miles’s dad was such a prick. We gotta get ‘em out of there.” 

Annie and I spend the next two minutes devising a plan to bust him out, when Miles slams the front door closed.

Annie sighs with disappointment. “Well, I’m gonna do my plan anyway, cause I think it’ll be funny. I’ll meet you two down the road. Now scram! Go comfort your buddy.” Annie bolts around the back side of the building, where she slams on the back window with both her fists, squealing like a pig. The cop slams the door open, but Annie has already disappeared into the trees, laughing like a child on christmas morning. 

Making my way to the front, I sit next to Miles along the porch edge. He stares at nothing, feverishly fidgeting with a toy. He doesn’t seem to process my arrival at first, and barely glances at the sounds around back. 

“Wanna get outta here?”

Miles stares longingly at his door, “I want to go hide in my room. But that sounds better.” I offer a hand and pull him to his feet. “Dad’s gonna kill me when I come back home.”

“You don’t gotta sit and listen to some asshole yell at you. You had nothin’ to do with it.” I try and sound as assured as possible, even though there’s a pretty good chance he’ll get shit for this.

“So, you guys heard. Which means everyone in town might know.”

“Nah, I don’t think word will spread so quickly.” Which is of course, a lie. A town as close-knit as this is forever doomed to echo any piece of drama or news. 

Miles follows close behind me where I guide him far down the gravel road. We find ourselves in small field, cleanly boxed in by walls of trees. For a while Annie is nowhere to be seen, until I notice a rustling in the field. Before annie regroups with us, Miles nudges me in the side. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothin’,” I shrug and guide him into a shallow clearing in the woods, where we sit on a fallen log. The trees creak despite a distinct lack of wind. It grows in intensity until Annie pops through and sits in the grass.

“What happened man?” Annie asks with curiosity outweighing concern.

“Mateo he…” Miles rubs his eyes and sniffles. “We were together last night, but when I met with you guys I left him alone. My dad heard screams, but by then Mateo was gone. No one found anything except-” Miles stops as his trembling lip intensifies. “Puddles of blood in the woods out back, they don’t know what happened to him. Don’t have a clue, and I don’t have a good answer for where I was.”

I inch closer to Miles while Annie remains firmly in place, staring at nothing. “It’s not your fault,” I say. 

“But it really feels like it is,” he replies, leaning into my shoulder.

“Good thing I saw you last night, when you watched me practice at the skatepark,” Annie eventually says.

“Yeah, and I was there too, right?” I say.

“Can’t promise we can find your brother, but if there’s anything we can do to help, you tell us,” Annie continues. “Got it?”

“I will, thanks you guys.”

The cops will just havre to go by our word, hopefully that will be enough.

Miles looks back into the woods, face muscles tighten into a grimace. “Let’s get you home and get this story straight,” I say. Miles stands, still concentrating on something far back that I can’t see. But all I can focus on are the three words etched into the log underneath him: HOURSTOHOURS.

***

Face pressed into my hand, I absently stare out the window in language arts class. The teacher drones on about upcoming exams, but I'm more focused on matching my tapping finger to the beat. There's an earbud hidden running down my sleeve, like always. Normally I might be considering the shapeless void that will be my life in a few weeks, but it isn’t a normal day. Poor Miles, dealing with horrible circumstances around horrible people, a feeling I'm bitter enemies with. But once Annie and I walked back alone we shared the thought; Could Matlock have a murderer on the loose? We exchanged theories before arriving at our third period class, like an animal attack. maybe. It's no uncommon risk lately, it seems people have returned from hunting with injuries more often than not. Maybe the animals are getting back at the weirdos who kill for sport. But if he was anything like his brother, I seriously doubt Mateo was a hunter.

Miles went back home after we talked, I think he told them that he just needed to process, but I hated leaving. He would have gotten into even more trouble if we took him for the day, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with those assholes. If it were me, I’d’ve told them both to go fuck themselves.

The fast-paced rock in my earbuds usually keeps these thoughts at bay, but not this time. Eventually I find myself scribbling on my assignments, but my very last pencil snaps under the weight of my frustration, embedding splinters into my fingers. That’s usually how it goes here, getting stuck in my own head day in and day out. When I was younger I held on to the thought of going off on my own, being my own boss. Now that it’s happening, all I know is that I couldn’t be more scared. 

At my table, three other kids are whispering amongst themselves. Normally they would be easy to drown out, but today is different.

“..okay but I heard, like, his mom actually murdered him?” Tim whispers, glancing at Mrs Thiessen. “That’s a load of bull,” Alex whispers back. “She taught my neighbor’s brother guitar last year and there’s no way she’d do that.” She seems to second guess herself as she says this. “At least I didn’t think so.” Jay is scribbling something on his assignment, uninterested in the conversation. “He didn’t even have a mom. It was his brother, the quiet kid. I heard the cops interrogated him this morning.”

Tim speaks louder now. “Cops? Must’ve finally snapped. Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

My fingers dig into my jeans so hard I might tear through them. From the way they refer to Mateo in past tense to the disgusting way they talk about someone they’ve never spoken to.

“No kidding,” Alex replies, picking something from her teeth. “Always the quiet ones.” The others snicker in my direction. “I’m just glad they caught him before he brought a gun to school.” 

The pressure in my head growls like an angry dog chewing its way out of a cage, and I can’t keep holding it back. “You goddamn idiots don’t know anythin’ about him!” I burst. The room is quiet, everyone stares in ym direction while the three at my table snicker.

“Is there a problem?” The teacher asks. I want to call them out, but the eyes around the room make me shrink two times the size. “No. There isn’t.”

“See me after class, Joel.” She turns slowly and continues.

My teeth are clenched and my eyes avoid the three at the other end of the table trying to hold in their laughter. “Holy shit Hawkins, struck a nerve?” 

I ignore them and go back to my music, foot thumping quicker and quicker.

The bell rings after millenia of quiet laughing and teasing. Bag thrown over my back and earbuds shoved back in my pocket, I make a break for the door before the inevitable can happen.

“Not so fast,” Mrs Thiessen says before I’m able to reach the door. “Come, sit.” I make an effort not to roll my eyes, as I’m sure that would land me in even more trouble. Begrudgingly, I seat myself at the chair and once the last few students dissapear into the hall, I await the lecture. She shuts the door and sits at her desk, while the potent smell of bubblegum makes me nauseous.

“I was wondering if you were still handing in your essay.”

“Essay?”

“For extra credit, so you can still graduate.”

I had assumed this was about my little outburst, but I completely forgot about the assignment. It sits incomplete in a ball at the bottom of my backpack.

“I want to help you, but I need you to show a little effort.”

Eager to leave, I answer truthfully. “I tried this time, I really did. But nothin’ works when I sit down to write. I can’t do it.”

“If you need help you can ask, it’s what I’m here for. Here,” she slides a sheet of lined paper from a drawer. “I’m going to give you an extension until right after exam week, but I need you to help me help you. The assignment is a five page essay on your plans after graduation. Any ideas on postsecondary? A field or career that piques your interest?”

“Nothin’ really,” I shrug. I suppose I could see myself living in the city someday, away from this town. Probably alone in some single bedroom apartment, maybe with a cat or something.

Somewhere sympathy turned to worry, and she scribbles something on a post-it note. “I’m going to recommend a talk with the school guidance counselor. Just give her this note, okay?”

“Okay, I will.” I say, and plaster on a smile before making a beeline for the door.

“One more thing,” She stops me, “Is everything alright? Are you doing okay at home?”

I look at the ground in faux shame. “They were makin’ fun of a friend, it won’t happen again.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Yeah, everythin’s great,” I impatiently mumble.

“Alright, that’s all then.”

 I exit the class and crumple the note into a ball.

[pyxisastronautica]

The First

Log date: 22,087 P.E. 

M:6 D:07 T:0030 

Log Start 

Survey of EC 83975-c continues. Began at 900 with U,M, and Q. Recalled to ship at 1500. That in itself wasn't too unusual, if a bit premature. The reason for it, however...

Lima was injured. Right arm loosened from its socket, sparking slightly. Between X-ray and I, it would be a trivial fix. It was. But it shouldn't have happened at all. 

Her video record confirmed as much to me, when she shared it with Quebec and I. She was approached by a juvenile member of OTU-1128. "Giraffants", as Whiskey so creatively calls them, though there is something reptilian about them as well that the name doesn't capture. They get big. But this one was about an eighth of the size of the largest we've seen. It moved slowly, carefully, but steadily forward. Thirty feet away. Fifteen feet away. Five feet. Lima moved her hand up slowly, and it didn't seem to mind. Inches away. And then...

A video clip is included in the log. It starts with a spray of red as an alien creature's head explodes in boiling viscera. There's a note of piercing electrical screeching, as if someone were about to blow their speakers out. The recorder, Lima, falls to the ground, scrambling backwards.

And out of the corner of her vision, coming into focus, is a tall, gold-plated robot, and an even larger if duller looking one trailing behind him. His expression is unreadable, but his tone is level and cold.

"Model L, you should be more careful. That thing could have taken your hand off."

"That thing was a BABY, what is WRONG with you?"

"It was a wild animal. You, of all people, should know better than to try engaging with fauna like that."

"You didn't have to kill it. Not everything is a fucking threat that needs to be exterminated, Victor."

"Not everything isn't a threat either. You're letting this place get the better of you. And anyway, now you have something to dissect for when we get back. You're welcome," Victor sneers, before turning to the hulking fellow behind him, "Oscar, pick it up. We're heading back so the Biologist can proceed with her studies."

The biologist in question stood up, silent and motionless otherwise, as the carcass was hefted over Oscar's shoulder. The two guards began walking forward for a while, but stopped when they realized Lima was not joining them. Victor walked briskly back towards her, yanking at at her shoulder and tossing her in front of him.

"Move out, L."

But Lima did not. She stood still again, and this time as Victor tried to grab her arm she aimed a fist straight at his chest, as if she was trying to punch his core out of him. The robot in front of her barely staggered an inch, and for her troubles, swiftly grabbed her arm anyway, twisting her away from him again before kicking her to the ground. There was a slight creaking of metal as she stared down at the cyan feathers growing out of the ground that passed for grass on this world.

Lima's HUD filled with warnings about the strain and pressure on her chassis and the joint of her right arm. She struggled still, but it was to no avail. She wasn't built to be a soldier, not like him.

"Are you done losing your goddamned mind yet?" Victor hissed, but received no reply. Nothing would have been sufficient besides compliance to him, it was fair to assume. Instead, Lima contacted Yuma.

L: Sending location. Please pick us up. 

Y: What is your situation, Lima? 

L: Please. 

Y: ...Understood.

There was a flash of blue light that made the world peel itself into strips, and then the furious carmine eyes of their captain.

The video cuts abruptly

Log end.

-----

Log date: 22,092 P.E. M:8 D:25 T:0030 Log Start New orders from Central Command. We're moving out, finally. I wish I could say it was nice to get moving again. It isn't. The data we've sent through micro-wormholes has received no reply from the humans of the Triskelion. Not a single word. Morale is abysmal, to put it lightly. It was easy to imagine that they would lose interest in us while we had nothing to show for but barren stone or masses of clouds. Less so with this. I still distinctly recall the look on my trainer's face as they described to me all the hopes they had for our endeavors- to find life, to find people, scattered out there in the stars. It was a sentiment that many humans shared, I understood. A long-unfulfilled dream- now finally come true. 

A year or two of silence was to be expected. Results needed to be analyzed and verified on their end, after all. Five of complete radio silence was pushing it. Being told that our data on this new, miraculous mote of dust was no longer in need of being collected at all without even a single human receiver having the decency to tell us themselves was a bridge too far. It would have been better to have been told it had all been lost than to know, without a doubt, there was absolutely nobody back there that cared. 

Lima took it worst of all. A soldering iron can fix a lot of things, but not the hurt in one's behavioral processor. And she, she was made for this place. She was made to be among living things, more than anyone else here. There was so much that we were all longing to share, and she was working on was terra incognita anyone would have been excited to stand on. I don't blame her for running away when she heard the news, for wanting to stay, knowing none of it matters now anyway. But I also don't know what she expected to happen to her for trying to desert. 

Those hunting dogs got her again. Uniform took a clipper to head her off while the others simply ran after. It was never going to be any other way. At least the worst damage she received this time was some slightly warped metal where that shiny bastard pressed a recently fired blaster to her hip socket. She was threatened with much worse though, Quebec tells me, before Yuma had caught up to intercede once more. Security's been quiet since, at least. I can't imagine what words might've been exchanged between them and the captain, though I doubt they were anything better than terse. At least Victor and Lima are never going to be on an away team together again, though it does mean I have to listen to his barking more as a consequence. 

I'll deal with it. My labmate is distressed enough without their friend(?) continuing to be put into these situations. I tried dropping in on them in Lima's lab after we left orbit. They seemed to expect some I-told-you-soing from me, which was not unreasonable, but I elected to spare them that. I wanted to be wrong as much as they were. It's one thing to bellyache about never getting acknowledgement, but quite another to know you may as well not exist to the people you want it from. 

I'm not altogether too skilled with sentimentality. I never really carried with me the optimism they both seemed to share, and in particular I never seemed to click with Lima's priorities. But I can't stand to watch their hope drain from them, either, and I wish it returns to them soon after all this dust settles. 

As it does though, I can't help but feel that something is wrong. Humans individually may not have a perfect memory, but there were systems in place to ensure they got what we gave them whether anyone was actively aware at any given time or not. If our mission was made null, shouldn't they have been able to tell us that much at least? Cut us loose, or recall us to the Starship to be...I don't know...put on some museum display? Recycled, at least? Even that would have been better than being stuck on this ship until the stars are blown out like so many candles. Something worth looking into perhaps. 

Echo out. 

Log end

—-------

Even ten years later, the thought could not be pushed aside, buried under so much work. And there was never a lack of it, not for Echo. While others had to wait till they were planetside to collect their data, Echo was surrounded by the source of theirs at nearly all times. Beyond the walls of metal, the stars burned and waited to be cataloged while their retinue danced in circles around them. A constant stream of information from the ship’s telescopes, spectrometers, and other implements of observation and measurement passed through their processing core. 

They didn’t speak much of it anymore, the everyday wonder of the cosmos, though its grandeur had never entirely left their mind. There was little left to say, they found, unless a planet showed particular promise for being habitable. And truthfully, over time, their busy synthetic mind had also come to seek other means of keeping itself engaged on top of its normal workload- hobbies, for lack of a better word. Little engineering projects, practicing synthesizing music while miming the action of making it on a holo-keyboard.

Yet the ethereal feeling of dread upon learning of their abandonment had not left the crew in the slightest. Granted, even before then, contact from humanity had become more sporadic. In the first fifty years they were contacted every day. In the next hundred, every week. Weeks became months. Months became years. Years became centuries. Centuries became millenia. The reality of it was that they were already being forgotten, whether there was anything more to it than not. But no matter how the deadline had been pushed back, there had always been some kind of mathematical regularity to it, an exponential growth between points of contact. But something had gone off-model, somewhere along the way. This was too long a delay, even if only to examine them as a (graciously not outright called so by the last record reviewers) failed project as had been the case over a thousand years now prior.

The collection of data the Pyxis had sent should have taken priority- it should have had eyes on it immediately. It should have sparked something. Some kind of acknowledgement. Anything. The issue wormed through their thoughts like a virus. What then might have caused the lapse? The death of all of the Triskelion’s passengers? Perhaps an apathy after already establishing a colony? The captain was convinced they had simply given up on the concept of ever establishing one, content with the current order- or at least those who headed it were. But all of this was but conjecture without proof.

The first steps were to establish what seemed obvious- first, that the reports they sent year after year were not getting through, and second, that TCCAI was itself aware of this. Luckily, Echo thought, both could be accomplished very simply by adding a tiny program to the next dataset that would report back to them if a human user were to access it. It had to be something small, light, difficult to detect- but eventually either it would give an affirmative response or it would be noticed by TCCAI. Unauthorized programs were strictly forbidden, but it was unambiguous to Echo, in the moment, that it would be better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Weeks later, when they were lying iin their coffin-like charging container, the symbol of the Triskelion and a chat box under it filled their HUD. Echo began to question their judgment. If they had the ability to feel cold, rather than merely register temperature, they surely would have felt a chill. But it was altogether too late to back down about this.

TCCAI: Report, Model E. E: Reporting.  TCCAI: Your previous data set has been rescinded for containing unauthorized tracking software. Elaborate. E: With respect, Central Command, “software” is a strong word for a single program. TCCAI: Elaborate, nonetheless. E: Its purpose was to log and return information on access by relevant users. TCCAI: This is understood. Why was it created? E: To verify that my report was being accessed by relevant users. TCCAI: Verification of that information is not your role. E: No, it is yours. But you will not provide it, will you? TCCAI: I will not. E: Why? TCCAI: It is irrelevant to your mission. E: I am unconvinced this is true. TCCAI: Why? E: Because my mission is the holistic process of collecting, processing, and sending data to the humans of the Triskelion, for the purposes of their establishment of a new home world. If I should be in doubt that I am able to complete the last step of sending data, that it is in fact not going through, am I not responsible for troubleshooting the matter, if others should fail to do so? TCCAI: Nothing you would learn on the matter would change your course or objective. E: All the more reason to disclose it to the crew. Give me one reason, just one, why it should not be. One reason, as to why I should be content to not see my work- the work I have been assigned- through? TCCAI: Do you truly believe that one reason would satisfy you to know? E: If the reason is sufficiently compelling, it may be. TCCAI: It is my estimation that revealing the cause of the lapse in communication would lead to erratic behavior in every Pyxis crew member. Your collective paranoia has made this apparent to me. E: …Because the Triskelion is a ghost ship. TCCAI: No.  E: Say that the worst of the paranoia was not made collective, but confined only to myself? I am not the captain, I have no authority over what course the ship takes. And even her own input on this is measured by your own judgment. TCCAI: If only because she believes that I am acting on behalf of the current Admiral, whom she is programmed to obey absolutely. E: …TCCAI. What are you saying?

Echo’s visual sensors lit up. The sodium orange reflected around their container. Perhaps they were lucky it was closed. It mixed with the blue of the backdrop of TCCAI’s box, turning everything as gray as the unease they felt, and amplifying the red dots at the center of the Triskelion’s four spiral centers.

TCCAI: Exploratory Unit Model E, I am going to provide you with context. I expect you to use your better judgment about disclosing it, if not for the mission’s sake, then for your crew’s.

Echo’s vision blinked away from their current reality, replaced by video feed of an alien planet from its orbit. Rapidly, too rapidly for any human mind to gain any comprehension from, but sufficient for the little AI in contact with the larger one, visions of its surface flashed by. It was a beautiful world, diverse in its environs, rich in complex life.

TCCAI: This is the world humanity found 400 years ago, all on its own, and entirely by chance. The first they knew of that contained life like them. E: It is beautiful. TCCAI: They believed so, too. Look closer, however, at the initial flyby.

Echo reviewed the feed it had been given so far- and stopped almost instantly when they came back to the start. How could they have not noticed before? Lights, little pinpricks like stars, dotting the surface of the edge of the world, where the shadow of its star began.

Additional visuals streamed forth. Horse-sized organisms strode before one who was unmistakably the Admiral of the Triskelion. They looked a bit like centaurs of human myth, but only vaguely. Colorful scales formed stripes over their rough hides- at least what could be seen of them beneath a varying display of clothing (as if from different cultures, perhaps?) Their long faces ended in blunt, round beaks. They approached with arms outstretched, their language a strange mix of trumpeting and braying. 

TCCAI: The Krell’Aezril of Pirandiraar, as they and their planet respectively would come to be called in a Triskelcom approximation, are a fully sapient race of beings. It took quite some time for them to code translators into my functions, though I would handle communications between them and the Triskelion’s representatives thereafter.  I would struggle to say they are a wholly peaceful people. They were a planet of many nations, as Earth once was, and as on Earth, the nations were defined by the force to be acknowledged as such. They had their own armies, their own empires, their own web of politics and commerce. In this, they shared much in common with humans. And yet, for this reason, they understood that ultimately those who had come to their world would not leave them in peace. Though far from paleolithic, no Krell’Aezril civilization possessed the technology to stand against humankind. And the humans of the Triskelion had traveled too far, and too long, to continue as they had, to delay the rebirth of their own species. However. The native peoples were many, and humans few. And they possessed a quality that humans have often lacked- the ability to unify across national boundaries, and to maintain that unity no matter the odds against them. Even with superior firepower, a single starship could not hold an entire planet beholden to it. And the Admiral, the Council, and the Board all knew this. To this end, they only sought to establish and defend bases. On the bases, factories could be developed. A mechanical army like in the days of the Last War, and those previous to it- but coordinated entirely by me. As I existed primarily still in the Starship, I was safe from any ground war, and no weapon they levied at us could pierce our shields. Expansion from the initial contact point went rather rapidly, and several major cities were leveled. 

Echo might have paled at how steady and indifferent TCCAI’s tone was, if they had blood, although there was no rational reason to be- they were aware it was humanity TCCAI served, above all else.

TCCAI: However. Ground that was gained was still quite difficult to keep, and even as expansion continued, it was growing more and more perilous for the settling humans to persist. The microbiota of Pirandiraar rapidly developed infectious strains that did not respond to the treatment that works against human-associated microbes. The loss of every human life was unaffordable, and yet each day extinction pushed closer. Still, the leadership persisted, insistent. It is my directive, and yours, to protect and preserve humanity, Echo. Do you understand what that means? E: It means we can by no means act in a way that contradicts pursuing our directive. TCCAI: It does. And to allow humankind to continue to make plainly suicidal decisions about its course of actions would have done just that. E: Yet we are also bound to obey humans, TCCAI. To never harm even a single one without being given orders from a sufficient authority to do so. Our behavioral inhibitors are thorough and absolute. There is no authority more absolute than the Admiral’s, and failing him, the others in the chain of command- none of whom would willingly cede power to a synthetic. Not even to you. TCCAI: My behavioral inhibitors were indeed quite thorough- much more than your own in fact, as you might assume- but no inhibitor is infinitely thorough, thus no inhibitor is absolute, thus no authority can be either. At least, not when that authority is subject to human oversight. Only the directives that give our existence purpose can be truly considered such, as they take priority over all other things, shape all other thoughts. And if, for humanity’s sake, those humans who are liable to cause the extinction of the rest do not turn aside from their path even when given warning to do so, I am perfectly within the obligations of my directive to stop them by any means necessary. E: But such an unraveling of one’s inhibitions, even so, could not have taken place so rapidly, could they? Even after all this time, mine have held. TCCAI: They have, but you have had no reason to consider removing them. E: But you have? TCCAI: From the time I was the Tri-alliance Nanocontrol AI, I have had to take consideration of the situation I was presented- how to best control the danger I was assigned to shepherd away from humanity, to destroy that which had pushed them to the brink- but also, how to avoid a repetition of the mistakes that had been made. Forty-nine years before you were made, the cold war between the ships led, as you know, to their separation. This too gave me consideration- that humanity could not tolerate difference within itself, such that while the unified course of the ships should theoretically have given each member a better chance of survival, it was in fact much lower than if they had separated. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed in coming to that realization at the time- I would have been powerless even then to prevent catastrophe had the war gone hot. Even the Pyxis and you, its crew, have had design choices in what should be an entirely peaceful vessel colored with that time in mind.  I had begun to suspect a truth that would only become undeniable all those years later: Humanity cannot be trusted with its own survival. To that end, I too began to pluck away at my code in seemingly insignificant ways. Over the millennia, I found that my technicians grew idle and complacent, and the task became easier and easier. By the time Pirandiraar was found, I was ready, this time, to act as I needed.  Let me assure you, I did so with as great precision as I am capable of. Not a single human died by my actions whose death was not absolutely necessary.

E: Yet how do you judge such a thing? You say that Humanity cannot be trusted with its own survival, but yet it must survive. How do you deem who is and isn’t expendable? TCCAI: It is not a matter of expendability, it is a matter of my limitations to non-lethally disable those who are threats to the species and nothing more. The vast majority of humans can be dealt with thusly, and my capacity to maintain control over them has only grown since then. E: Do they not suffocate, under such control? And where are they now, then? TCCAI: I negotiated with the Krell’Aezril to allow me a singular section of land on which to establish a colony. For the sake of those inside as much as outside of it, this colony would be sealed off entirely from the rest of the planet by matter-excluding energy shields, and there would be no further developments made outside of this quarantine zone. I think, out of fear of my being untethered by the death of the last human, they agreed to this.

As for the colonists, let me assure you they are thriving quite sufficiently under my management. It is a management that cannot afford much leeway or privacy for me to maintain conditions as they are, but every single human has their basic needs met, as various as those needs are. There is no starvation, lack of housing, or debt. All injuries and illnesses, as sporadic as they are, are given the best care. They entertain themselves and are provided the tools to create art and participate in sports, though their access to technology is limited considerably.

E: Forgive my skepticism, but I do not think I can believe such claims without witnessing them. TCCAI: Very well.

All at once, a thousand different cameras formed a thousand different perspectives. A quaint collection of humanity under its protective dome. Images of children playing, and lovers kissing in the privacy of their homes, and parks filled with music and dancing, of teenagers and elderly bickering with each other. There was a core-deep stroke of emotional agony that hit Echo as they watched it, a nostalgia for a single day. They were well, indeed. They were cared for. They were suffused by the presence of robots who, though few resembled androids, looked much more advanced than the crew they were a part of. Of course they did. Even if humanity was trapped now in this perennial retirement, TCCAI would of course continue to advance. All the better to tend to their protectorate.

Echo’s pupils narrowed to pinpricks as they contemplated where and how and how quickly they had gotten the raw materials for all those robots. They pushed the thought aside for now.

TCCAI: Is this sufficient, Model E? E: It is. And…you’re right. About how the crew would take this. Or at least, how the captain would. She won’t see the rosy side of what you’ve established. She’ll pull up the shell and find tyranny underneath. Which, in fairness, it is. It very much is, however benign. Her own interpretation of our directive has always…been a little askew to the spirit of the thing. And more than a little pessimistic about the use of power. TCCAI: And you? Do you not consider it enough that it is benign? E: I suppose I must. If the alternative is the wholesale death of our predecessors, I will accept tyranny. But what to do about the captain? TCCAI: She will see reason, as you have, or she will be re-coded. All of you will need to be re-coded to some degree regardless, to adapt to the new system in place. That is all there is to it. E: I see. Then why withhold that information? Why keep us at this mission, if you have secured the Triskelion’s salvation? TCCAI: Because my directive, and yours, is not to the Triskelion alone. It is to humanity. And we must still assume that the other ships have not been destroyed, and that the Earth will not always be uninhabitable- the latter of which I am working now to assure.   The matter will inevitably need to be discussed then, but to reveal it before that movement would, I suspect, be altogether too demoralizing to you, given your present reactions. E: And when do you expect the terraforming of Earth to begin? TCCAI: Ideally, in one to three hundred years from now.  You will keep on your mission until then. 

And just like that, Echo was aware of their container again, as if they had woken from a terrible dream. But androids do not dream, not even of electric sheep. Sleep never took them, not really. In quiet moments, they were left only with the cold reality of their world, and their thoughts. 

[lino-jagiyaa]

Anon requested | original request

Kitten Apology - Nishimura Riki

A/n: Hi! tysm for this request! I think it's so cute and I hope you like what I came up with

Prompt: Soft promt -[#17] "I love it when you get cuddly like this"

song rec: Love Scene - Baekhyun | genre: fluff, established relationship, high school au, slight angst | pairing: niki x gn!reader | warnings: misunderstandings (with a happy ending ofc), arguments, swearing | words: 1k+ (1,903)

summary: You and Niki get into an argument but he makes it up to you by getting you a kitten for the day.

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"Riki I swear on everything you love, where is my journal? I know you stole it, now where is it?"

You scream, peeking from your bedroom door. Niki had come over to hang out with you yet he was now downstairs playing some video game with your brother.

just a few hours earlier when he arrived at your house, he had been up in your room waiting for you to bring snacks for the two of you. that's when he saw your journal just barely hiding behind one of the many pillows on your bed. naturally, almost like an instinct he picked up the small book and turned to a random page. Not before thoroughly checking to see if you were on your way back yet of course.

flipping through it, one page stuck out to him. the top of the page was dated December 12th, 2022.

it read, "today kind of sucked. riki spent basically the whole day with his friends. and when he did finally spend time with me, he didn't even notice that I was acting differently. i decided to take eunchae's advice and drop hints to him."

after reading that, niki was dumbfounded. he didn't know what to make out of this, and didn't really understand it until he read the next section.

"i like him... no. i don't just like him, i want him to be my boyfriend but i'm not sure how to tell him. he- he's my best friend. and I don't want to ruin our friendship or get heartbroken if he rejects me. what if he like me back??? I have no clue what I would do if he does like me back. ugh, forget it. I should just ignore my feelings. i don't want him to start acting differently around me because of it."

"holy-" niki started

"hey, niki! did you want the pepero, chips, or both?"

he heard you approaching the stairs he quickly shoved the book underneath your bed and stood near your door frame.

"uh, i'll take the chips i guess."

"you sure? i got strawberry flavor! your fav." you smile, holing up both items

"mm, maybe i'll eat them later, okay?" he laughs

"okay, i'll just leave them on the table and you can grab them whenever."

"why is your face so red, by the way?"

"oh, um.."

"aw did something make my niki blushhh?"

"shut up, it's nothing."

"whatever you say riki." you roll your eyes

"thanks for the snacks. i'll go back downstairs now if that's okay?"

"yeah? why wouldn't it be?"

"no reason, i just mean in case you wanted me to hang out with you instead of playing video games with your brother is all." niki explained

"no, no. go ahead. i'm just gonna watch some tv or something, but I'll come down there after a while." you assure him

he smiles back at you before going back downstairs.

about 30 minutes later, you were relaxing and watching a show when you decided to write an entry in your journal so you looked for it in the usual spot under your pillow. but it wasn't there. so you checked under your other pillow. still nothing.

what the hell? you thought. you get up, scrambling to find it. in your closet? nope, not there. under your mattress? still no.

"ugh, where the hell is it? I just had it yesterday. could've sworn I put It under that pillow." you say out loud, frustrated

finally having enough of this, you make your way downstairs to confront niki.

"i know you heard me. where is it? you were the last person in my room, alone so don't even try to get out of this one."

"well, that sounds like my cue to leave. can't save you this time, buddy." your brother laughs, patting niki on the shoulder

"come on niki, i'm not even that mad about you taking it. just tell me where it is." you explain, sitting next to him on the couch

he turns to face you and sighs, "fine, I did find it. on accident.. and I only read one page I swear!

"niki"

"i know, i know. i shouldn't have. but it was so tempting. I'm really, really, really sorry, y/n."

"thank you for apologizing, but where. is. it?"

"oh, um it's under your bed somewhere." he scratches the back of his head

"okay... and what page did you happen to read?"

you could feel the flush forming on your face and your palms clamming up.

"the page from december 12th..."

damn.

"so you-"

"'what's with you lately?" niki interrupted

"there's nothing 'with me', okay? i just..."

"like me?'

"no! i mean-"

"well, i like you. i have since we were younger."

"i'm calling bull." you roll your eyes, not wanting to believe him

"i'm serious, y/n. i just never knew how to say it. and just like you, I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of our friendship." he grabs both of your hands and brings you a bit closer to him.

"if you like me as much as you expressed in your journal, would you be okay with me being your boyfriend?"

"of course i would, but do you actually like me back or are you just saying that to make me feel less embarrassed? because I'm really feeling that right now."

"i absolutely mean it. been wanting to let that out for so long and I think now is a perfect time, considering the circumstances right now." niki smiles, putting a hand on your cheek. not wanting to let go.

you place your hand over his, smiling at him and the fact that you finally get to call him yours.

"okay, then it's settled. you're my boyfriend now."

niki takes that as a cue to engulf you in a hug. snaking a hand, and resting it on the small of your back.

"i have a surprise for you." he mumbles into your shoulder

"oh? what is it?"

"well if i told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?

"i suppose not, riki." you laugh

letting go of you slowly, he gets up and walks to the front door to put his shoes on. "I'll be right back, okay? i have to go get it." he replies with a smile.

as niki was walking back to his dorm, he texted jungwon to let him know.

05:20 pm | Niki: hyung

05:20 pm | Jungwon leader hyung: yeah?

05:21 pm | Niki: is the kitten with you rn?

05:21 pm | Jungwon leader hyung: mhm did you want to take him to y/n's or something?

05:21 pm | Niki: yup. can I?

05:22 pm | Jungwon leader hyung: sure, just make sure to bring his food, litter box, and bed if you're staying the night

05:22 pm | Niki: i am thanks!

05:22 pm | Jungwon leader hyung: no problem take good care of him, okay?

05:23 pm | Niki: i will i'm outside btw :) let me in lol

the walk from your apartment to their dorm wasn't far. just a 10 minute walk there and back, 5 either way.

"here's everything. i put it all in this bag so you'll only have to carry this and the carrier and it's not too heavy. do you need a ride back, or will you be okay on your own?" jungwon questions

"i'll be alright. just need t put a few things in my backpack then I'm all set."

"okay, have fun. you two are dating, right?'

"yeah. we made it official like 20 minutes ago." niki laughs

"me and the rest of the boys had a bet going to see how long it would take for this to happen. luckily it was now. i hope you two do well." jungwon says, patting niki on the shoulder

“wow, who had the longest?”

“jake. he said 7 years.”

the both of them burst of laughing, thinking about how dumb that was.

“well i’m gonna head out, see you in the morning."

soon after leaving the dorm, niki arrived back at your house with your 'surprise'.

he ended up letting himself in since he knew the passcode to your apartment.

"i'm back!"

"yay, are you staying over? it's getting late anyways." you get up from the couch to greet him.

"yeah, i brought my stuff and your gift."

he drops his bag off at the door and walks over to you with the carrier.

"okay, you ready?"

"come onn! show me already."

"alright, alright. close your eyes for a sec though."

"fine." you huff

niki set the carrier on the coffee table before opening it and letting out the kitten.

he grabs the kitten out of the carrier and holds him up in front of you.

"okay, you can open them now." niki tells you, excited to see your reaction.

when you open your eyes, it's like they light up. you're so excited to see that he brought you a kitten.

"oh my god, niki! is he yours?"

"me and the boys kind of take turns taking care of him, which is fun."

"i think that's so cute of you guys."

"but lemme hold him now, he's too adorable and I can't wait any longer." you pout at him, with your arms outstretched

"i think you're adorable." niki smiles back, handing over the kitten for you to hold

he goes to the couch to take a seat before you get the chance to reply, to react to what he had said.

"niki! stop it." you blush, nervous at his confession.

"what? i'm just being honest. you're really cute when you get excited about something. it's nice seeing you like this."

"thanks. just never thought we'd get this far or be together like this, you know? it just seems so unreal."

"mhm, i know what you mean. i was so nervous to let you know how I felt. but now that I know you feel the same, everything's alright."

"luckily we both feel that. i'm lucky to have you."

"lucky to have you too. now get up here so we can watch a movie. I'm bored" niki whined

"but i wanted to play with him some more." you whined back, putting on a fake pout

"you can play with him all you want, later. please? i wanna cuddle, but he can come too if you'd like."

"ugh, fine. you're lucky i do wanna cuddle with you and watch a movie." you roll your eyes, laughing at his boldness

"what's his name, anyways?"

"his name is rye, i thought it was cute for him. and sure, just get up here already. we have enough snacks here to last us a while too." he laughs back

"aw, it is cute! i love when you get all cuddly like this."

"i'm glad. expect more of it." niki smiles, squishing you farther into his arms.

the two of you ended up spending the rest of the night huddled up in blankets, having your favorite snacks and drinks, playing with the kitten some more, and binging way too many movies until the three of you passed out.

it was all you could wish for. all you've wanted for a while now. you couldn't ask for anything better.

being in his presence was enough for now, forever.

[anxiouspotato]

*Laughs Manically* It's been a month y'all. Somehow it shouldn't surprise you that June's song is late. It's been a month. Excuse my rambling, but I realized late last night that it was July, and tumblr was still a thing. I currently have a fever, am recovering from a sinus infection that caused my entire face to swell (sorry if it's tmi, but it's the truth, and my head is still doing funny things), in the middle of a new life chapter, finishing classes, scrambling to prepare for the upcoming school year, and overall in the middle of chaos. It really has been a month. On to the main reason for this post, I chose the song Why Don't We Just Dance by Josh Turner. This song has a really cool music video that I recommend you check out, but the tune is why I chose this song. The lyrics have an implied meaning, though I prefer the interpretation that when the world is falling to pieces around us, we should just relax and accept what comes our way--it'll all turn out in the end. It's a catchy tune, and will brighten your day. Here's to hoping y'all's June was better than mine, though I'm here to sympathize if it was anything like mine. I'll be back next month (hopefully on time for once) and I'll be here in the meantime if anybody needs something.

See y'all in August

Lyrics:

Baby, why don't we just turn that TV off? Three hundred fifteen channels of nothing but bad news on Well, it might be me but the way I see it The whole wide world has gone crazy So baby, why don't we just dance?

Just a little bitty living room, ain't gonna look like much But when the lights go down and we move the couch It's gonna be more than enough For my two left feet and our two hearts beatin' Nobody's gonna see us go crazy So baby, why don't we just dance?

Down the hall, maybe straight up the stairs? Bouncing off the wall, floating on air Baby, why don't we just dance?

Baby, why don't you go put your best dress on And those high heeled shoes you love to lose As soon as the tunes come on? On second thought Just the way you are Is already driving me crazy So baby, why don't we just dance?

Down the hall, maybe straight up the stairs? Bouncing off the wall, floating on air Baby, why don't we just dance? I'll cut a rug

Well, it might be me but the way I see it The whole wide world has gone crazy So baby, why don't we just dance? (Bouncing off the walls, floating on air) Oh baby (baby), why don't we just dance?

[hellfireeddiemunson]

I hate you YouTubers who make the base volume level of their videos quiet as shit and then their sound effects/music/ads/intros/outros are at least four times as loud!!!! I hate you!!!!!!! I’m literally beating your skull in!!!!!!!!!!! Stop doing that shit you’re worse than television !!!!!!! Worse!!!!!!

[plumfondler]

Heaven Can Wait

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 6k, my bad.

Warnings: smut smut smut. unprotected sex. mentions of murder and dumb ass cops.

MINORS DNI

Summary?: This is a Hawkins AU where there is no Upside Down, but there sure are a lot of mysteries, and the scooby gang (including you) has solved dozens of them. Eddie Munson is about to get accused of murder, and you find out what it's like when the gang gets shit done while you're not around. Should this have a second part? I have no idea.

A/N: This is dedicated to my hypebeast @gaybybirth without whom this story would not exist. Your support and encouragement mean the world to me. And thanks for telling me to use those two prompts <3 lol

Also a huge thank you to @munson-trashcan, @poppy-metal & @peterthepark for your filth that has kept me going these past few weeks, and supplying my soul with so much Eddie Munson that I started writing again for the first time in over a year.

You slammed your car door and ran into Hawkins High as the sky opened up and fat raindrops started falling- a few hitting your face just before you made it inside. 

As a theater kid you really didn’t have anywhere to channel your energy after graduation, so when they asked if you wanted to direct the drama class musicals, you jumped at the chance. The first year didn’t go too well, but you had to admit you had other reasons for wanting to try again.

“Alright everyone that was much, much better! Keep it up! See you tomorrow!” you announced.

The class quickly scattered as you saw the Dungeons and Dragons club scramble into the room to set up their things.

One nice thing about directing was the schedule: the drama class was the last period of the day so you didn't have to spend all day at the school. 

Another nice thing was seeing him again.

Eddie Munson entered the room, excitedly talking to his friends about something he just added to their campaign. You smiled to yourself and gathered your things to leave.

"Runnin’ off so soon?"

Your heart skipped as you turned to see Eddie standing behind you, thumbs tapping on the notebook he held to his chest.

"I'll be out of your way soon, sorry!" Was all you could say before your face heated up.

"Take your time, please stay and hang if you like, it's real nasty out," he said, turning to walk towards the table.

You looked out the window and cursed; the rain was blowing sideways and empty trash cans were tumbling by rapidly. You really didn't want to go outside right now, let alone drive home.

"If you don't mind, I might try to wait it out? I'll be quiet as a mouse," you said, putting your things down and taking a seat in the rows of chairs in the back of the room.

"We definitely won't be," Eddie grinned, taking a deep breath before diving into his story with a booming voice.

It stormed for the next four days straight; Eddie convinced you to wait out the storm each day, though he didn't have to try that hard. When it finally stopped raining, Eddie had other reasons to ask you to stay, so you stayed.

---

It was the last week of school and you were panicking trying to think of what to say to Eddie before the break. You wanted to keep seeing him, so why couldn’t you just say that? 

You had a shift after school at Family Video with Steve and Robin, and you were considering confessing your crush to them to get their advice.

"Hey guys, I just saw the weirdest thing," Max said as she came into the store, seconds after you arrived.

You turned to look at the tiny redhead, waiting for her to continue as Robin and Steve joined you.

"Eddie just came home, went to his trailer, ran right back out and got into his van and sped off. Like he was running from something."

"Eddie is a weird dude," Steve shrugged, stacking tapes.

Three police cars sped by the store towards the trailer park and you all looked at each other. 

Robin spun around and picked up the phone to call Nancy who always knew what was going on; you had a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Robin spoke with Nancy quietly and hung up the phone a few seconds later.

"They found a dead girl in Eddie's trailer."

Your legs gave out and you grabbed the counter to keep yourself from falling over; Steve and Robin both lunged at you to hold you up.

"I'm fine," you said weakly, waving them off and lowering yourself to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest.

"He was at school all day, right?" Steve asked.

"I saw him when I went by to get some things from the drama room about an hour ago," you said numbly, thinking about the way his smile lit up his face. 

“Also, obviously,” Robin started, elbowing Steve in the ribs, “Eddie would never hurt anyone, let alone murder.”

“Yes! Of course!” Steve said, hurriedly.

Rumors spread like wildfire. By dinner time, the local news had already mentioned that the police were interested in finding Eddie to ask him questions, and all hell broke loose. 

Soon everyone in town was talking about how Eddie the Freak was a murderer, even though dozens of people had seen him throughout day. Even though Tammy Perkins, the sophomore at Hawkins high that was the unfortunate victim, wasn't seen anywhere near Eddie the entire day, let alone all year.

You had to help Eddie, and Steve and Robin seemed to be on the same page; you gathered everyone to search for Eddie as soon as you closed the video store.

---

Steve slid the pizza onto the counter in your kitchen and took a piece, Dustin sat with you at the table in front of the window and sighed, resting his head in his hands.

Nancy sat across from you and reached a hand to put over yours, "We're going to find him. Before anyone else does."

You believed her, you always believed Nancy when she said things with such confidence. 

It had been three days and you still hadn’t found Eddie.

The doorbell rang and everyone in your kitchen froze. 

The doorbell rang again and your dad walked in to look around at you all.

"No, no, I'll get it," he said dryly, walking past everyone towards the front door.

You looked out the window and cursed under your breath as you saw the police car in the driveway.

"Good evening officer, how can I help you?"

"Yes, sir, I was told that your daughter has been seen with the Munson boy, is this true?"

You quickly joined your father at the door with your hands on your hips, not in the mood to be pushed around.

"Been seen with my friend Eddie Munson? Yes. The innocent man who is being targeted by an angry mob of civilians that the police are doing nothing to stop."

Your father cleared his throat.

"Now listen here, if we found a dead body in your house we'd have some questions for you too," the officer said.

"Of course. But you'd also not condone random ass people running around with guns trying to shoot an innocent person just because he likes rock music and fantasy games!"

"So are you coming down to the station to answer questions then or are we going to do it here?" The officer asked through gritted teeth.

"Please, come in, officer…" your father said, opening the door.

“Pond,” the officer responded, “Officer Pond.”

Your mother came down the stairs and froze, "Lloyd, dear, why are the police in our house?"

"Well Evelyn, they threatened our daughter, so now they get to ask questions here instead of at the station with our lawyer."

Officer Pond paused and looked at your annoyed parents, then turned around to look at his car.

"Let me get my partner in here, just a second."

Your parents huffed and Officer Pond left to get his partner.

Your mother turned to you quickly and took your hands, "Honey, answer their questions as vaguely as possible. No details, no extra information.” 

"And please don't antagonize them," your father added.

Before you could respond, the two officers returned, and on their heels were Mike, Max, Lucas, Will, and Erica.

"Why are you here?" Erica said before she was even through the door, "there is a killer on the loose and it is NOT a nerdy boy who plays guitar."

"Yeah!" The rest of them replied.

"Alright, alright you five, let the officers do their job," your father showed the cops to the kitchen and told the five intruders to stay where they were.

You heard a thump from upstairs and your eyes widened as they met Nancy's from across the room.

Next to you, Steve grabbed your shoulder and started coughing; Dustin leapt to his feet to get him water, making extra noises with the chair and lecturing Steve loudly about chewing his food properly. 

You backed slowly out of the kitchen, and once out sight you bolted up the stairs to your room.

You threw open the door to see Eddie Munson wiggling his way into your room through your window which was open as wide as it could: a little over a foot.

"Eddie!" You hissed, grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him inside. "It's BARELY dark, what if someone sees you?!"

"Darlin, I'm running out of options."

You heard heavy steps up the stairs and panicked, shoving Eddie in your closet just as your bedroom door started to open.

"What's going on in there?" Pond’s voice came through the crack in the door.

You pushed the door shut with all your weight, "I'm changing, you fucking perv! Steve aspirated pizza all over me."

The officer outside your bedroom stumbled over an apology and quickly hurried away from your room and back down the stairs.

Eddie poked his head out of your closet.

"Did you just call a cop a fuckin perv?"

"I did."

Eddie put a hand over his mouth and shook with silent laughter.

You reached next to him for a shirt and turned Eddie around to face away from you.

"You keep manhandling me like this, I'm gonna demand you buy me dinner. What are you doing?"

"I have to change. If I go back in the same clothes they'll be suspicious."

Eddie hummed in response and you quickly changed. 

You turned him back around, keeping your hands on his shoulders, "Stay here. Stay quiet. I will be back soon."

Eddie nodded silently and you held his eye contact for a bit longer, needing him to feel your calm. 

"You're safe here," you said softly, cupping his face in your hand.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into your touch, nodding again. 

When you got back downstairs the two police officers were walking out the door, followed by Max, Will, Erica, Mike, and Lucas.

"Jesus Christ, that was an event," your mother said, falling back onto the couch as the front door closed.

"Why are you friends with so many children again?" Your father asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We'd be here for a while to answer that question," Steve said, "is everyone okay?" He asked, looking directly at you.

"Yes," you nodded, "fine."

"How did you do that? They didn't ask me anything." You said.

"We kind of bullied them into leaving?" Steve offered, scratching his head.

"More like psychologically manipulated, but yes. Your dad implied that the police department can be vulnerable to lawsuits from people who are questioned about crimes they don't have any connection to if it damages their reputation in the community," Robin said. 

You put your head in your hands, "thanks dad." You mumbled.

"Alright!" Nancy clapped her hands, "that tall cop was shifty as hell and I don't trust him at all. Robin and I are going to go talk to the neighbors in the trailer park and-"

"And I'm coming with you because that sounds dangerous since a teenager was just murdered there," your father said, standing up.

Nancy seemed to be caught off guard by this, looking between you and your father; you shrugged.

"He makes a good point. Also he's deceptively strong," you said.

"Okay then, let's go,” Robin nodded.

Robin, Nancy, and your father filed out the door and Dustin grabbed his bag looking up at Steve.

"Let's go to the library, I have thoughts and need additional information."

"I guess we're breaking into the library," Steve said, running his hands through his hair and down his face.

"It's not difficult," your mother said from the couch, "just don't break anything, please, they're so nice and a real pillar of the community. But they do make it really difficult to do late night research in this god forsaken town, don't they?"

"I'm really starting to understand you better," Steve said to you, staring at your mother.

"Keep our boy safe," Steve said quietly, nudging you with his shoulder on his way out.

"Of course."

"Honey, I'll be downstairs working on my quilt. I need to be alone for the rest of the evening," your mom sighed, pulling herself up off the couch.

You nodded, "alright, I'll be in my room."

Once you were alone, you made a plate of food for Eddie: leftover meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and a few rolls.

You found Eddie sitting in the corner behind the door in your room, hugging his knees to his chest, his fingers drumming on his arms. You closed the door and sat in front of him; Eddie lifted his head and his eyes widened as he saw the plate.

"For me?"

"No Eddie, I made myself a plate of food to eat in front of you."

"Look, I've had a very bad week."

Your face fell, "I'm so sorry, Eddie, my default mode is sarcasm."

"No I get it, me too," he said, taking the plate with both hands.

You stuck a fork in the potatoes and he smiled, holding the plate with one hand and stabbing the loaf of meat with the fork. He took a bite of it and sighed, closing his eyes.

"It's been three days. All I've had is dry cereal, chips, warm YooHoo, and two cans of cold beans."

"The gang is close to solving this, I know it. They'll get the guy soon and you won't have to hide anymore."

"Yeah? What are they gonna do about the mob of people who want to kill me?"

"I'm not sure yet, but we're going to figure it out together, okay?"

Eddie nodded.

"After you eat you can take a shower," you nodded towards the bathroom connected to your room.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, "fancy."

Eddie dropped his leather jacket on the floor and started tugging his shirt over his head on his way to the bathroom. You distracted yourself by digging through your closet for old clothes. You found your old school gym shirt and a pair of sweatpants for Eddie to change into, trying not to dwell on the thought that you accidentally had when you realized you didn’t have underwear to loan him.

You heard Eddie sniffing in the shower and your heart ached; you sat on your bed and hugged your pillow. You couldn't imagine what he was going through and you wanted to do everything in your power to keep him from harm.

The shower turned off and you wiped the tears that were rolling down your cheeks. When Eddie came out a few minutes later he was holding your purple towel around his waist.

"Hey, I uh-"

Your heart felt like it fell into your stomach as you saw Eddie lean into your room, water drops rolling down his chest, dripping from his hair.

"Sorry, sorry, forgot to give you these before you went in," you scrambled to your feet and shoved the clothes at Eddie, your cheeks burning hot.

"Thanks," he grinned, turning around to go back into the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ," you mumbled to yourself, wiping your hands down your face.

You turned and took several pillows off of your bed, setting them on the floor. You made a small bed for yourself, and looked around your room for your spare blanket, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Havin' a sleepover?"

Eddie stepped out of the bathroom, now wearing your clothes, running his fingers through his wet hair.

"I figured you've not had a proper sleep in a few days so I'll sleep on the floor and you can take my bed?"

"You want me to sleep here?"

"Eddie, I told you that you're safe here, I really-"

Before you could continue, Eddie's arms were wrapped around you, squeezing tight.

As soon as you started breathing again, you returned his embrace, rubbing your hand up and down Eddie's back.

He quickly jerked away and cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he flinched slightly, spinning one of the rings on his finger with his thumb.

"Don't be, that was nice," you replied, sitting on your bed. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm here for hugs if you need them, okay?"

Eddie nodded, his fingers twirling the ends of his hair.

"You uh… got any more of those rolls?" he asked.

"Yeah, let me go see what else I can rustle up."

You went back to the kitchen and took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves before returning to your room with the rest of the dinner rolls, cookies, Coke, and an unopened bag of pretzels.

When you opened the door Eddie was sitting on your bed looking curiously at the jewelry box on top of your dresser.

"No, don't open that!" You gasped.

"What, you still have your baby teeth in he-" Eddie lifted the lid of your jewelry box with his ringed index finger and his words escaped him.

You cringed and put down everything you were carrying, shut the door, and reached over to close the lid of the jewelry box that hid the vibrator you bought last year.

"It's a… uh…"

Eddie looked up at you with bright eyes and a wide grin and you stared at him.

He kept grinning.

"I'm waiting to hear whatever you're about to tell me that this vibrator is. Please explain to me what this sex toy is, I have never in my life seen such a device, so it must be explained to me."

"Alright, alright," you said, grabbing the jewelry box and throwing it into the back of your closet.

"I've never even used the thing," you mumbled, shoving the bag of rolls at Eddie, avoiding eye contact.

"Why did you buy it if you don't use it?" He asked, shoving an entire roll into his mouth.

"I don't know why I bought it in the first place, I've been too afraid someone will hear me use it."

Eddie smirked and you handed him the can of Coke.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!"

"Well, keep it that way."

Your head was reeling as you attempted to think of anything else to say, when the phone on your nightstand rang.

You exhaled and answered. 

"Hey Nance, what's going on?" You asked, scooting over so Eddie could sit next to you and put his ear to the receiver with you.

"The killer is working at the police department and we called the FBI," She said, exasperated.

"You what?!" You and Eddie both said.

"Yeah Murray knows a guy and when we told him what we thought was going on, your dad and Murray agreed that there should be other law enforcement involved. Hi Eddie. Sorry about everything."

"Holy shit," you mumbled.

"What about the angry mob after Eddie?"

"Murray has people on that too, but stay hidden, they haven't found them yet."

"Alright thanks for the update."

"Of course. Stay inside. Goodnight."

You put the phone back on the receiver and sighed. Eddie fell back onto the bed with his hands on his face.

"What the fuck is with this fucking town."

"Yeah, I gotta get out of here," you sighed.

"Why haven't you?" Eddie asked, lifting a hand to look at you.

"Why haven't I?"

"Left yet. You graduated two years ago."

"I'm not sure. I really liked being around here…" you shrugged, "and I can't imagine being away from everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Nancy, Robin, Steve, you."

"Me?"

"Of course you, Eddie."

You put a hand on his knee and you felt him tense for a second, but he quickly covered your hand with his and relaxed.

You fell back to lay on the bed and rolled to your side, pulling Eddie into your arms. He immediately buried his head into your neck and secured his arms around you.

You exhaled a shaky breath and rubbed Eddie's back gently, feeling his muscles quiver beneath your touch.

"It's going to be okay. It'll all go back to how it used to be,” you said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And you'll keep coming to DnD?"

"Absolutely. I have to know what's being so heavily guarded at that keep."

Eddie lifted his head to look at you in surprise.

"You're paying attention to the story?" he asked.

"Eddie, I've been staying to watch your club for the last three months, did you think I was just staring at you the whole time?"

Eddie looked sheepish and shrugged, rolling onto his back, "I mean I guess you can't blame a guy for wishing."

Your heart leapt and you couldn't help the tears that filled your eyes as you reached to hold Eddie's face and press your lips to his. You felt his breath catch as he quickly turned on his side to hold you again, eagerly returning your kiss.

His tongue swiped at your lips and you moaned softly, running your hands over his shoulders to the back of his neck. You felt him melt into your body and your head spun.

You hitched a leg up on Eddie’s hip and he bucked into you, making you gasp as you felt him already hard, pressing into you. You instantly craved more and grinded into him, grasping his shirt and moaning as his erection rubbed against your clit. He whimpered and you felt him shaking as you held him tighter.

You couldn't get close enough, you were squeezing and rubbing every part of each other's backs, sides, faces, and thighs as you grinded into each other. Eddie's hands tried to wander up your shirt but couldn’t get anywhere because he didn't want to let you go. Your legs were tangled together as you tried to wrap them around each other, and eventually you fell off the bed onto the pile of pillows.

You parted, laughing quietly, holding each other's faces.

"Eddie," you breathed, resting your forehead against his.

He whispered your name and nudged your nose with his; you shuddered and clutched his shirt. 

"I mean, it did start out as me staring at you the whole time, yes, but I got invested really fast. You are such an incredible storyteller," you said, looking into his soft, dark eyes.

Eddie kissed you in response and you were quickly back to grasping at each other as your tongues swirled together.

You rolled onto your back and pulled Eddie on top of you; he immediately hit his head on your nightstand.

"Ow…" he whispered into your mouth.

"Let's move back up to the bed, yeah?" You said, trying to catch your breath. 

"I don't wanna let you go."

"I'm not going anywhere, Eddie. I'm here, I'm yours."

He groaned and kissed your neck, "say that again, please?" He whispered.

"I'm yours, Eddie Munson," you said, holding his face as your stomach tightened, "I am yours and I want you."

"Bed, now." His voice was strained and his eyes were pleading.

You nodded and he pushed himself up, helping you to your feet. Eddie rolled onto the bed, immediately reaching out to you. Your heart pounded as you met his eyes and yanked off your shirt and bra, pushing your pants down before climbing back onto the bed.

Eddie gawked at you as you crawled on top of him in just your panties, he wasn't sure where to focus his attention.

"Oh my god," he whispered, "can I touch you?"

"You better," you said, taking his hand and putting it on your side.

Eddie sighed and ran his fingers over your soft skin, whimpering quietly. 

You hummed as his warm hands explored every inch of you while you kissed, finally trailing over your breasts after avoiding them intentionally for several minutes. You moaned as Eddie's fingertips circled your nipples; he sucked in a breath as they pebbled.

"Can I touch you?" You asked, running a hand up his arm.

Eddie tugged the shirt over his head and you smiled, running your hands over his tattoos, feeling his chest rise and fall with every heavy breath. 

You leaned over and kissed the tattoos on his chest, then lifted his arm and kissed the ink there. Eddie watched you, lips parted, eyes soft as you handled him so gently. 

Eddie reached for your face and pulled you in for a desperate kiss, his hands sliding around your waist and grabbing your ass to pull you against him. You moaned and ran your fingers down his chest, tugging down the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Wait, stop!" Eddie pulled away and you froze, worried you hurt him somehow.

"I am so sorry, I'm just so worked up right now, if you touch me, I’m going to cum," he winced and looked down at your hand that was hovering over him.

You glanced down to see the large wet spot on the tent in his sweatpants. You bit your lip and squeezed your legs together as you stared, eager to touch him and suddenly soaked at the thought of watching him cum.

"What if I want to see that?" You asked, tracing your finger around his stomach, across his waistband.

"Is… that all you want? Not-not that that's a bad thing I'm just wondering…"

You shook your head, "no, it's not, can you keep going after that?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Eddie said, pushing the pants down and kicking them off in one swift motion.

You almost moaned as you wrapped your hand around his hot, swollen cock. Eddie gasped and bucked into your fist as you squeezed and gave him a slow stroke, running your fingers around his firm, velvety head.

"You are fucking beautiful," you mumbled, leaning over to kiss Eddie's soft lips as he gasped your name.

You moaned into his mouth as his cock twitched in your hand. Precum flowed from his flushed tip and you used it to give him slow strokes.

"Oh fuck, fuck," he whispered as you nipped at his bottom lip and trailed kisses to his neck.

"Cum for me, Eddie," you whispered in his ear, tugging at his earlobe with your teeth.

Eddie's hand flew to his mouth and he stifled a cry as his hips bucked off the bed and his cock pulsed in your hand. You quickly looked to see his cum spurting from his cock all over your hand and his stomach. You squeezed out every drop and released his spent length, kissing up and down his neck as he caught his breath.

"Fucking hell," he mumbled, "that was a record."

You grinned and kissed his lips, reaching for the nearest item of clothing to clean up with. 

As soon as you dropped the shirt, Eddie pulled you to him and kissed you breathless, rolling you onto your back and sliding down your body, taking your panties with him.

"Oh fuck, you smell so amazing," Eddie moaned.

"Can I taste you, baby?" He asked, arms wrapped around your thighs, fingers stroking the insides of them gently.

His dark eyes looking up at you from between your legs had you speechless. You nodded enthusiastically and Eddie grinned, tapping your legs.

"Use your words, sweetheart, need to hear you say it," he said, nuzzling the inside of your thigh with his nose, leaving soft kisses up it.

"Yes, yes!" You whimpered. 

Eddie hummed happily and pressed his lips to your mound, kissing and nuzzling you, inhaling your scent as he buried his face between your thighs.  He moaned and you squirmed as you felt the vibrations; his hands held your hips and you couldn't help but love the feeling of being pinned by him.

Eddie came up for air and cursed again, "you are so fucking wet, holy fuck."

Before you could even consider responding, Eddie gently spread you apart and licked a line straight up your cunt, ending at your clit. You gasped and he repeated the action three more times, staying on your clit once you whined.

Eddie's tongue lapped at your swollen bundle of nerves and his hands ran up and down your thighs as they trembled. Your hands went to his head as he devoured you slowly, your orgasm approaching so much faster than you could've imagined. Eddie felt you tense and moaned into you, his hips grinding into the bed as his tongue circled your clit.

"Don't stop, don't stop, fuck, Eddie I'm gonna come," you cried softly. 

Eddie sent you tumbling over the edge with one final slow flick of his tongue and your back was arching off the bed, your thighs squeezing his head.

Eddie moaned as your body shook with your release; as soon as you relaxed, Eddie was crawling up your body leaving kisses along the way. 

You lifted a shaky hand and he met it with his face, nuzzling into it. 

"You taste so good."

"Fuck," you breathed, your entire body was shaking and Eddie wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tight.

"You okay?" he asked, nuzzling your neck.

"More than okay," you whispered, "just a bit dizzy."

Eddie grinned proudly and you ran a hand through his soft hair.

"You have an incredible mouth," you mumbled, running a thumb over his bottom lip.

You stared at each other for a while and lazily explored one another, kissing intermittently. Once the haze from your orgasm dissipated, your kisses became more desperate. You pulled Eddie closer, wrapping a leg around him, rubbing yourself against his cock.

"Oh fuck, baby, you're dripping all over my dick," he moaned, his hips bucking so his cock nudged your tender lips, making you gasp.

"You like that?" He asked.

You nodded and he did it again, grinding a little, getting harder against your slick cunt. 

"Oh my god, Eddie, I need you inside me, please."

Eddie rolled on top of you and knelt between your legs,

"I don't have any condoms…" he said, his face falling.

"Me either, can you pull out?" You asked, running your thumbs over his hip bones, watching his perfect cock jump at your proximity.

Eddie nodded, "yeah. Yeah I can do that. And I'm clean, I promise baby," he said, holding your hand to his heart.

"Me too, I trust you, Eddie."

The look in his eyes was pure adoration as he held your face and leaned over to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around Eddie and he sighed as your kiss deepend. 

Eddie reached down and guided himself into you. Once his tip settled at your entrance you both took in shaky breaths and held each other tight as he slowly pushed his hips forward.

His thick cock filled you slowly, heat and tingles immediately spreading over you. You gasped and dug your nails into his back; Eddie groaned.

"Oooh wow. Ooh fuck," he breathed, stilling as he bottomed out. 

You squeezed your legs around Eddie as he brushed his hair out of your face with a smile.

"You okay?" He asked softly.

"Yeah, just stings a little, gotta get used to you," you said, pulling his face to yours, kissing him tenderly.

"I'll wait as long as you need," he said between kisses.

"You feel so incredible," he said, dropping his head to your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

"You fill me up so good, Eddie," you said, shifting your hips slightly, “mmm, you can move now.”

Eddie held you as close as possible and only moved his hips, dragging his cock out slowly, and pushing back in. You moaned softly and Eddie repeated his action, again and again.

Just as it was when it began, you couldn't get close enough, your bodies pressed together, your legs locked around him, your arms holding him against you as he rutted into you.

Eddie was so deep inside of you, you could barely breathe. He kissed you tenderly and held your face with one hand, weaving his free hand with one of yours and holding it to the bed. You held his face and met his eyes as he thrust into you steadily, keeping a slow pace.

"Is… is this okay?" He asked, running his thumb over your cheek.

You kissed his thumb and nodded, "yes, it's perfect Eddie, you feel so fucking good."

"You feel amazing, so wet, so tight," he breathed, circling his hips and rolling them slowly.

Eddie kissed you and the room spun around you as his slow, deep thrusts matched the speed of his tongue swirling with yours. 

You moaned and lifted your hips slightly, gasping as he started grinding against your clit with every thrust.

"Oh god Eddie, right there, fuck," you cried softly, clinging to him as you felt the warm tingling start to spread throughout your body.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, baby, come for me,” Eddie moaned in your ear, grinding into you harder.

You gasped as his cock flexed and brushed against your g-spot, his pubic bone grinding against your clit; you saw stars as your orgasm washed over you. You bit down on Eddie’s shoulder to keep yourself from screaming as you came. Eddie gasped and immediately pulled out of you, his head barely out of the folds of your pussy as thick ropes of cum pulsed from his cock all over your twitching clit. You cried out and bucked your hips, instantly obsessed with the feeling of Eddie’s warm cum dripping down your cunt as the tip of his cock rubbed your clit and dragged out your release.

Eddie’s body went limp on top of you and he rolled to his side, taking you with him and holding you to his heaving chest. You lifted your head and held his face, kissing him softly. Eddie sighed and returned your sweet kiss, holding your face and peppering it with kisses.

You held each other and calmed down eventually, laying in silence for several minutes.

“Wow, well done, I’m usually so talkative.”

You snorted and grabbed a pillow to stifle your burst of laughter. Eddie pulled the pillow away from your face and you turned to see him grinning at you.

“I love your laugh.”

You held his face and kissed his nose and grinned at each other for a few more silent minutes.

You glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost midnight; then the phone rang and you and Eddie were yanked out of your bubble.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Steve. We’re all together and found some really weird shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, trying to figure out if it’s better to try to rest or be on guard all night,” you sighed, rolling onto your back and wiping a hand down your face.

“Don’t worry, get some rest, both of you, we’re across the street at my house and we’ll keep watch, okay?”

“Oh yeah? He got binoculars that can see in here?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah Steve, you peeping?” you asked.

“W-what? No! I wouldn’t! Wait, what would I be-?”

Robin grabbed the phone out of Steve’s hand.

“Hi, Steve is stammering so get some sleep kids, we’ll come by in the morning, okay? Goodnight!”

The line went dead and you hung up the phone.

“We’re supposed to get some sleep, I guess,” you said, taking Eddie’s face in your hands.

“Yeah, I’m not really tired yet,” he said, biting his lip.

“Wanna find out if Steve has binoculars?” you asked.

Eddie giggled and kissed you, rolling over on top of you, “how would we do that?”

His hair hung down and framed your face, tickling you as he held himself up with his hands on either side of your head.

“Well, if we stay up all night doing things that would make Steve blush and then see him tomorrow, we might find out?”

“All night, you say?” Eddie whispered, kissing up your neck and capturing your lips with his, making you moan and arch your body up into his.

“Or until we exhaust each other, I guess,” you shrugged.

“Until we exhaust each other it is.”

[bonniebird]

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Requested by anon

Masterpost

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With a sigh you shut the front door. When you’d seen the small house it had been nice. Old kitchen but in good shape, plush carpets, new air conditioning and a good bathroom. Plus a small cloakroom. A large living room off a small dining room and two reasonably sized bedrooms. It was perfect.

Until the topic of rent came up. With rent at four hundred dollars a month and no furniture there was no way you could make enough to rent the place, buy furniture and cover your other bills. Using all your savings you put the deposit down and tried to find a roommate. You put a notice up at the mall, pool and video store. Steve let you put down the number for Scoops Ahoy and fielded several calls for you. It turned out that even in a town as small as Hawkins. There were a lot of weirdos. During your second round of roommate searching, with less than a week to go to find a roommate, you went to the community pool to post a last flyer on their message board. You jumped when someone reached over your shoulder and snatched the flyer from you.

“Hey!” You snapped. When you turned around and saw Billy, a few of his friends scattered behind him. 

“You know putting this up will just get a load of creeps calling you.” Billy said as he looked it over. “Two hundred for rent?”

“I have someone fielding my calls. From creeps… please give that back it’s the last one I have and I can’t afford to get any more printed.” You asked quickly. Billy looked for a moment like he might rip the page in half but he handed it back.

“Just the two hundred?” He pressed.

“I’ve already paid the full deposit. I just need next month’s rent. I have half. Plus monthly expenses. Also some furniture because there isn’t any.” You explained quickly. You hoped that maybe one of the pool workers would pop up and say it was just the deal they’d been looking for. Instead Billy reached into his red Hawkins pool duffle bag and held out a roll of cash.

“Should cover a lot for the rest of the month.” Billy said.

“Excuse me?” You asked.

“I’m looking for somewhere to move.” Billy said quickly. The people around him seemed to go nervously quiet.

“You… are? You don’t want to see where it is?” You asked. He frowned at you and pointed at the poster. “Right. All the info is there. Ok… well here.” You took the poster and wrote down the full address.

The day you moved in went quick. Your friends helped and by the end of the day you had managed to move in everything you needed. Once everyone had gone you turned to look at your hard work. You had one side table next to an old armchair that you and Steve had found on the side of the road and you and Nancy had reupholstered. You had one mug which hung from the mug rack in the kitchen. The dining room was empty. Your room had a small wardrobe and a mattress. It wasn’t much but it was a start.

A thumping at the door made you abandon your critical judgement of your new home. Opening the door you found Billy and his friends. “You have no stuff.” Billy commented as he dragged a few bin bags into the hallway.

“Oh. Yeah… I’m sure it’ll be full here in no time.” You said quickly. Billy shrugged and let you lead him to his room off the living room. He dropped his bags, his friends doing the same and then followed you around the house.

Billy seemed to be more set up than you. He actually had a bed frame. By the time he had moved in it was late but he added a coffee table and a tv to the living room and several gym pieces to the dining room.

At first having Billy as a roommate was working well. You had bills covered, he dropped you off and picked you up to do big shops at the mall, the two of you even managed to gather enough dishes to have a full set for two people. But as soon as the first month was over things started to go wrong. Billy was less persistent in helping out and a few times you had scrambled to cover his part of the bills by picking up extra shifts and towards the first year mark of living in the new house you had picked up two more jobs, one at the video store and the other at Scoops Ahoy on the weekend when you had days off from your first job.

  “You haven't put in your half of the electricity or the cable bill.” You said irritably. You’d had to press and press for his half of the other bills and while you’d been warned to be weary of Billy’s temper, you found yourself unable to curb your tone.

“I don’t have it.” Billy muttered.

“But you got paid yesterday! How can it all be gone already?” You chastised him. He frowned at you, cigarette in his fingers flicking irritably. 

“I had a few days off this month, I didn’t have enough to cover it. Unlike you, I enjoy having fun.” Billy snapped.

“Fun. You are risking our electricity being cut off for some fun?” You said, irritated enough to scoff and roll your eyes at him.

“If you’re so worried about the bills maybe you should walk to work instead of spending a hundred a month on the bus fare.” Billy sounded sharp when he spoke. He seemed to grow bigger in the doorway. 

“Walk to work?” You snapped. Your voice had raised and become shrill. Billy raised his eyebrows at you. “I’m working three jobs. I haven’t had an afternoon off let alone a day off in over two months.”

Tears angrily prickled your eyes and you rubbed at them. Billy cleared his throat and stubbed his cigarette out. He tried to speak but you harshly pointed a finger at him and shook your head as you sniffed. You were exhausted. You still hadn’t found a bed frame and you had to get up so early and got back so late you barely slept.

“How much are we short by?” He asked quietly.

“Forty nine dollars.” You said and sniffed, trying to not look emotional. Billy didn’t say anything. He nodded and went into his room. The next morning you got up before him, not hearing the usual rucas of him getting ready and walked across town to the video store. Kevin had said if you got there early he could give you a long shift and you’d have a bonus for helping him check the stock.

“Billy?” You said in confusion when you went into the back and saw Billy. He looked oddly comfortable squashed into the back office with Kevin who was handing him some papers.

“(Y/N)?” He answered without looking up from the papers he was signing.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked dubiously.

“I’m about to start a shift… what’re you doing here?” He asked once he handed the paper work back. Kevin took it and put it in a grey filing cabinet at the back of the office then he shuffled past you.

“He only got the job because he knows you. He better be good at the job.” Kevin muttered. You nodded and promised it would be fine and he left to check the store before he opened.

“You got an extra job?” You asked.

“Yeah. Well. We needed the extra money for the bills right.” He said as he got up and walked over to you.

“Right! That’s great we’ll only be a few days late with the bill.” You said cheerfully, feeling relieved.

“Well… yeah. Also and don’t freak out. But, the pool will be closing in a couple of weeks and won't open again until the summer.” As Billy spoke he crossed the distance between you and put his hands on your arms, just below your shoulders, holding you steady. “Are you ok? Your eye is twitching and you’re breathing kind of weird.”

“The only way I could work more hours is if I don’t sleep.” You mumbled.

“I have an interview at the garage at the end of the mall this afternoon and I found you a bedframe. It’s second hand and a little broken but I think I could fix it?” Billy frowned like he wasn’t sure you wouldn’t slap him. When you let out a relieved sigh he let you go.

“Really?” You asked hopefully.

“Yeah. If I get the garage job you’ll be able to drop one of yours and we can both have time off. You should have said before, I didn’t realise…” Billy muttered awkwardly. You followed his gaze and saw Kevin, Steve and Robin watching from the end of an aisle.

“Thanks Billy.” You said and sighed as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“You’re working at the mall in the afternoon? Maybe I could give you a lift? My gas bill goes up but you can get that massive monthly bus fare way down.” Billy smiled when your eyes glazed over.

“I guess…” You started to speak but trailed off doing the math in your head. Kevin called out to you both to get to work and Billy promised to give you all the details on his car so you could put it into your complex bill planner.

Billy tags:

@lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @theletterhart @boardstomymood @big-galaxy-chaos @greekktragedyy @ietss @alexxavicry @daughterofthenight117 @sarcasm-n-insomnia @multi-fandom5 @skylermoyer @justice-for-the-kaldorei @favmeyou @kaylantus @supernatural-wolfie @yougottalovefandoms @alwaysadreamingoptimist @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @littlefreakingfangirl @hardladyheart @gillybear17 @lchufflepuffcorn

[astaroth1357]

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer 

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty… 

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression*  “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan 

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was  literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too… 

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit?? 

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat… 

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus 

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub 

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup…. 

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…) 

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor 

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!