#“You Follow Your Heart and It'll Take You Where You're Supposed to Go”

[randomfoggytiger]

"You Follow Your Heart, and It'll Take You Where You're Supposed to Go"

Happy belated birthday, @thursdayinspace! Hope this little post-cancer arc fic hits the spot~.

*****

Scully could think about it, now that the danger was past.

She luxuriously meditated in the quiet hours, stretching her aching limbs under layers of silk and satin, linen and patches until the bed became too constricting and her apartment too lonely; then, she toted that thought with her to Mulder’s apartment where he would greet her with etched worry lines and a wisecrack for her especial amusement. She’d been tempted to open the topic with him-- to take advantage of this freeness that floated heady and relieved and excited between them. But she sensed her partner’s toppled equilibrium: he, too, was still healing. 

Instead, she tucked up her feet and leaned back her head and closed her eyes and started, again, from the beginning. 

Cancer-- a word second only to tumor in its ugliness. Her nose would bleed, she would call Mulder, and they would force Skinner’s permission to investigate her disease as a case. She would still call her mother. 

Melissa, Scully decided, would have called her first. Her older sister, always right behind little Dana during the best and worst moments of their lives, always inescapably in-tune with her tragedies-- With your spirit, Dana, Missy'd said once when both girls were still mystified by the unknown. 

Melissa would have called, forced the truth out of her, and insisted on driving or flying or backpacking to the facility where she’d been treated. Would have brought blankets and teas and improbable potions, and would have scolded and ranted about Scully having already given up. “You’re still alive, Dana. You’re here because you want to live-- why aren’t you fighting this?” And they would have fought and been impossible; and Melissa would have voiced their fear openly. She, too, would have trusted and hoped in Scanlon. 

Penny would've died, and Scully would've determined to survive; and Melissa would have arrived with their mother in the morning to drive her home. Scully, a dreamland away, could feel her sister’s gentle grip and hear her whispered “Welcome back” as Maggie efficiently packed up the room and dashed at a tear. 

The months would flow by in fits and starts, work and immunotherapy and denial consuming most of her time. Mulder and Missy would eat up the rest. Dog years and weekly sister nights and Navy brother birthday cards would pepper her existence, would justify her blithe acceptance of Eddie van Blundht’s friendly farce. 

B-L-U-N-D-H-T. What would her sister have thought of that? Scully inhaled sharply; held, then released her breath slowly. She’d never have told Melissa.

Her musings were usually cut short. Today, it was the scuffle of Mulder’s socks.

She knew he’d seen her when his noises stopped and he began to pad, not drag, his feet across the floor. Deciding to save him the trouble of natural assumptions and stifled noises, Scully popped open one eye, looked up at him keenly. 

“Catch some beauty sleep?” Mulder teased-- a decent cover, if his grin hadn't widened with awed gratitude. The inconvenience of her convalescence seemed so small compared to life’s rediscovered joys. 

“Mm, a nice one,” Scully admitted; and let her eyes slip close to catch a lingering glimpse of Melissa’s smile.

*****

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic.

[expectmcre]

✦ tag drop: general

[webq84]

soft yandere photographer who accidentally snaps a picture of you for one of his projects when he was supposed to take a photo of a butterfly who decided to take a break from flying and rests it's colorful wings on the top of your sketchbook. your creative mind too busy to get distracted with such a small little thing.

ever since then, soft yandere photographer has been following you wherever you go. snapping pictures of you in different scenery, different clothing, but you're always stuck in that precious sketchbook of yours.

you were always so focused, the serious expression on your face never budging. but sometimes it'll be different, your face subtly expressing a bunch of emotions as your fingers lifts up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your brows furrowing with the smallest amount. he figured it was to help you create more expressive characters.

he can never get too close to you, as for some reason aside from your art, you were gifted with really keen senses. flinching and turning your head away from the pages of your drawings to see what made the grasses beneath you rustle a bit. he nearly stumbles on his feet, pretending to be just walking past you, heart skipping a beat when you make eye contact and give each other a small smile.

after that, he can only observe and take a photo of you from a good enough distance that you'll think he's just another person amongst the people enjoying a cup of coffee in that favorite cafe of yours you usually like to go to. or he's just one of those people who like to read their books near mother nature as he sits on one of the benches in the park which is coincidentally in the same row as yours.

all of those times he's sneaky with his camera, using his surroundings to his advantage. faking to post about the cafe's interiors to promote them, when it was solely your pictures that contains the storage of his camera.

it's almost like a little play for him, appearing as a different role each time just to catch a glimpse of you.

it was always the same routine, until one day, when he managed to find the perfect spot that's a little closer to you than usual—he noticed something from that little sketchbook of yours, zooming in closer to create a more clearer image for him. his breath suddenly getting trapped in the back of his throat.

it was... him. all of them. drawn in seemingly different art styles as if you were testing which one suits him the best. he even recognized some of the poses you used for him. there was one where he was in your favorite cafe, with his own ordered coffee as he remembers sitting on a different table across from yours. there was even one where he was at the park sitting on a bench, where he was supposedly to be reading the book he brought with him.

and what's strange about those specific drawings of yours, is that you've drawn him with his trusted camera on his hands, blocking half of his face as the little slashes of lines around the sketched camera indicates that he was taking a picture. almost as if you knew what he was doing...

he felt his heart almost jumped out of his chest when he zoomed out from your sketchbook, because instead of finding you burying yourself in the world of your sketchbook, he saw you looking towards his way. acknowledging him. your eyes meeting his through his camera.

you seem to attract butterflies a lot, when another like before joins you for this special picture, his shaky hands trying their best not to drop his camera on the ground as he snaps a photo of you smiling cheekily at him. the little butterfly giving him more cute pictures of you laughing and giggling as it tickles you, playfully kissing you in the nose.

[emilyscully]

There is no right or wrong. Life's just a path. You follow your heart, and it'll take you where you're supposed to go. God, you sound like a greeting card.

THE X-FILES | 5.06 "Christmas Carol"

[richeeduvie]

hey👋 😊🤗

where’s wedding bells pt.2 😠😾🔫

Wedding Bells (Part Two)

Stewy H. x Reader, Roman R. x Reader (complicated), Kendall R x Reader (minor, minor as in what Baby was when she was groomed by him) here yall go damn!! (jk it's been long overdue after my failures I love u guys)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

PART ONE (OUT OF FIVE), AUTHOR MASTERLIST After assuring Roman that Stewy being your date was nothing but a platonic necessity for Shiv's wedding, the start of the night has decided on proving you wrong. It's much to your dismay...maybe not so much Stewy's (for the most part), but most certainly Kendall's. Knowing the aspects of the "DogandBone!AU" do help add content to both parts of this story, but you do not need to read anything prior to understand it. If you would like to, you can go onto my masterlist linked and browse through the masterlists/content of my succession characters. All are content for DAB!AU. Or you can simply search up the tag. (Stewy's POV next!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

The ceremony was beautiful, vows mandated. Knowing Tom as your technical boss, you're sure he wanted to say something from the heart. Knowing Shiv...Shiv, Shiv, your only girl friend Shiv...you know she wouldn't have that.

Roman took to looking bored next to Tabitha. You caught him making quips to her and you hate to wonder what he was saying, if he'd tell you the same things if you were his date.

Or maybe there's just some different with you that you wouldn't get the default comments out of Roman. Something just for you.

Maybe that's true for the past, before Tabitha and the now. You hate to think that, you think to not be over it already - you were asking Roman the what ifs of finding someone for you and you've got nothing to show for being ready to find that someone. That not-Roman.

Almost. Not really. No, you won't say you do have something to show for you. That something being taking looks at Stewy in the aisles.

Feeling your heart skip when he caught you taking those looks.

You were to not figure what the fuck Stewy was thinking at your stares when you were supposed to be gooey-goo over the new marriage of your friend. You were and are to not think about the way he met your eyes. You were to not notice the way Roman's head quickly, curtly snapped to follow where you were looking.

And now it's time for pictures!

"Has new, tanner dick brought you cause to lie to me?"

Roman kicks the grass, cut and too green underneath the both of you. What he's wearing isn't much different than his suits day to day at Waystar, but he looks nice. You don't know how to feel about how you don't feel the warm roll throughout your body at the sight of him handsome. Like he's not your boyfriend anymore.

He never was, he wasn't ever anything but the only person you've ever been in love with. Felt your loins on fire for, if you want to be gross about it.

You tilt your head.

"What?"

They're flashing pictures of just the bride and groom and it leaves Roman to whine to you on the sidelines. Stewy...in fact him and Kendall are nowhere to be found. You just know it's got something to do with whatever will ruin this family again. It'll be by tonight and forgiven in two weeks. At least the way you've grown into Roman over the years isn't something of a complete waste, you get understand the family you're working for for the rest of fucking time. Life.

Frank waves to you, you wave back.

"Ow! What the fuck?"

Roman's slapped your hand down mid-wave.

"You told me you just needed a date and you were too stupid to go with the obvious three-way Tabitha and I offered. Okay. I accepted that like I wasn't being fucked, but then you're fucking Stewy with your eyes, opening legs with your irises at my sister's wedding. Bridesmaid gangbang."

"...Are the bridesmaids gangbanging Stewy?"

Roman's brows are perpetually down, nose flared. You've shat on the grass, basically. The joke's bombed.

"You. Stewy...and his of color cock and his smarmy eyes. You think you can find out the number to his shaft shade by now? With all the times you've-"

Your eyes dart to where his fist opens and closes, then to where his neck rolls and head jolts. It's like a visual cough.

"Jesus Christ, you know what? Let me just not quip bullshit, I can be serious. I think I deserve that, maybe?" He sniffs.

And there it is...or there it isn't. No automatic, instinctual rush to comfort Roman and hold him or punish his insecurities with teases or insults punchier than his. Nothing.

Because you see Stewy coming up behind him.

You've always noticed he holds himself well, ever since you were younger. But now...no.

But then, you look into Roman's eyes, brown - facing rejection or no-care he's always so sure of. You sigh.

There it is. The rush.

Roman leans into your palm on his bicep.

"I'm going to ask if you've been keeping track of how many times you've ridden him. Or he's ridden you. You've taken to American Paint Horses."

"...When the fuck did you know pony breeds?"

"When you started fucking the brown kind."

Jesus. Roman.

"Roman! Fucking cool it. You're being...like, racist. Cartoonishly racist over something that you've made up in your head."

"It's not racist. Stewy's brown. Shocker. You went from me, not brown, to him. That's a fact. I didn't press negatives onto the color of his cock or our cultural differences in...fetishes."

Roman blinks, he turns to Stewy smiling at you before he's talking to Kendall.

"And did I make it up? Really."

You blink. You sigh.

It just slips out.

"You went from me to Tabitha. Should I whine?"

The words already leave a bad taste in your mouth once they leave it. They're not even particularly jealous-sounding, it's more of a casual tease to bite Roman and his hypocrisy. Still, it reeks on your tongue - it's a gag of admittance and by Roman's smug fucking face, you know he knows it too.

It's a slow growing smugness, too. First it's comprehension of what you said in the first place, then it's realization - life breathed onto his face.

Complete satisfaction.

....She still likes me. Wants me. Fuck it, knew it. Her vagina cares enough to be jealous. Knew it, knew it. Knew it. Thank God, I thought I was fucking done for and ready to be shot out back.

"I'm joking, but it's also a genuine question...because you're doing that over something you're making up in your head, Rom."

Roman puts his hands on his hips, lips pursing out.

"I just question the stares, you baby. That's all I'm doing. It's fair, they were like - fucky eyes."

No.

You don't know what they were.

"No. They weren't. And I-"

"Okay, now the family together!"

You turn to the photographer, Roman doesn't.

"I don't think you get to think over who I stare at, may-"

"Fuck you. Of course I do. I don't deny you from commenting on Tab's love for me as a result of pussy envy. I don't. I won't...and we..."

Roman turns to his family gathering, Shiv's blinking quick at him. It's like she's cursing at him to hurry the fuck up. He turns back.

"We can talk about it. Past the bullshit."

...Really?

"Really?"

The word on your tongue is more sarcastic than it is in your head. And there, in the pause...it's like Roman's pulling back from the openness of himself. Taking what he's put out away.

"Me and Tabitha and you...sure."

"...Mm. Shiv's waiting for you."

"Like, do I have to stop playing bits here and be fun for you to actually still have fun with me-"

"Roman, hurry the fuck up, dude! Seriously."

"Cool it! I don't care that it's your wedding, Shivy Ginge. I'll set fire to your minge."

He taps into his British roots there before he's off. Not before he kisses your knuckles, though.

"I just fucking miss you, weirdo. I want conversations. I just...I don't like...do things in spite - not towards you, even though you're being fucking weird. I don't make wounds and shove my dick into them as a gotcha."

It's said as he moves off. They take photos - the Roys...your Roys. You smile at Kendall when he smiles at you. Your thumb rubs your knuckle, you won't think about his kiss.

"Tabitha, just get it here."

But you don't think anything at all when they let Tabitha into the frame. It's easy for her. Rightfully so, but it's on your skin on a knife and you don't feel that's right.

But you don't feel it go away.

It hits you like the first time you cried as a child. It's a childish hurt and you can't make it go away as you watch the camera flash and Roys and Tabitha smile, as they bring Rava into the picture taking. Rightfully so.

It's a nail in the coffin, the confirmation what Roman has with Tabitha is real.

Your love, it still here thumping at your heart, is not.

Why are you about to cry?

"Hey, you."

You turn to the dark-haired, clean bearded man at your side. His knowing but soft voice.

"Hey, Stewy."

"What's with the glossy eyes?"

The burning is against the sudden, unwanted warmth you feel. You don't want to feel warmth at how Stewy's so close to you. You've been close to him before and nothing - nothing like what you feel with Roman.

But here, everything with what you feel with Roman. Maybe something new, something giddy that differs because Stewy isn't Roman, he's Stewy. He exists differently.

And now Roman exists away from you.

"Weddings, you know?"

Stewy smiles thin, brown eyes light.

"...Yeah. No. But even if it was yeah...I don't think it'd be Mr. and Mrs. Wambsgans getting me leaky. How's your legs from your formal-attire workout."

"...Upright planking?"

"Exactly."

You are sore. "It was a workout. At least I didn't have to listen to DIY vows. That would've been the real challenge."

Stewy leans you. You try not to breathe, you don't know why.

"I don't know, I think it'd be fun to see a Roy attempt romantics in public. Do you remember Ken's wedding with Rava?"

Yes. You won't be mean in your thoughts, genuinely.

"Yeah. The singing during the dinner was cute, I'm glad he chose to put that stunt there instead of the altar."

Stewy puts his hands in his pockets.

"Isn't that fucking right." His voice is warm, almost teasing - well...always teasing, even if the conversation is genuine. You know him well enough to know he's not fucking with you, laughing at you in the bore of small talk. It's just how he talks.

You also know him well enough to know his cologne is wearing off.

"You're not going to join the happy family photoshoot?"

"No. Have no reason to."

You and him haven't been facing each other in your talk, eyes to the Roy family with Tabitha and Rava as the reception beings to bustle inside.

You wonder if Stewy feels the tension too. If you're crazy - if you're childish for thinking he does or if you're both for feeling it yourself in the first place.

"That's a same, you're basically a fifth child. Which makes whatever you had with Roman incested. Which makes it less hot. I know, I'm weird, not...illegally weird, though. For the most part...so, the honorary incest is not hot, now that I think of it."

Stewy takes his hand out of his pocket. You see it out of the corner of your eye and you feel his touch on your back a couple seconds after.

You don't see how he pauses, you couldn't know how he thinks about how this touch is going to feel on his skin.

What the fuck happened, man? What happened that now things are...fucking coiling inside him. Like he's a boy - or no. Gross, cartoonish to describe it like...now it's just different with you. What fucking happened?"

Stewy smiles.

"You're perfume is disappearing on us. I don't want to be sniffing up on your sweat follicles while we're dancing, princess."

You shiver.

Why the fuck are you on fire in the best way possible?

"What a bore, right? Let's get inside."

Shiv fixes the waist of her dress.

"Yeah, honey. Photos are a bore, but important for our memoralization of our love...tonight, right? And I think we're supposed to let everyone go in first before we come crashing as bride and groom."

Photos are done. Everyone separates and even in the fire, you look to see if Roman's watching the flames. And....

Of course he is. But then you realize that you didn't tell Kendall that Stewy's your date. You didn't think you had to, but his eyes catching to where his best friend holds you is where you remember that yeah, Stewy's his best friend. The only reason why you know Stewy is because he's Kendall's best friend that he introduced when you were 14. You'll give him more leeway than you give to Roman. Even though it's still a date you needed, it must be weird for Kendall to see without context.

"I think you looked very beautiful up there."

You turn to Stewy, heart beating quick. Too quick for you to judge yourself for it.

"For Shiv's sake, I won't say you outdid her but...you were the closest bridesmaid to doing the out."

You smile to break away from that tension - between him and between how Kendall's hand drops from Rava's waist, how his eyes blink low from afar.

"You were examining all of us up there to figure that out?"

It's a joke you think warrants another smarmy-charming reply.

But all Stewy does is just hold his head up with something....serious along his face. Nothing under a tease, just eyes not blinking before he looks to the grass.

"No."

You can't stop your smile from falling before the photographer comes up to the both of you.

"Hey, you two want a photo? Cute couple."

"Oh, we're jus-"

"Sure. Have at us."

Stewy says it as charming as he says everything before he pulls you close by the waist.

"Oh, I can smell you better now. Smile, princess."

You do with every roll of fire on your skin. Your stomach turns over.

Maybe it's not childish...it's just new, it's just how you feel. What you hate is that you do, that it's Stewy. You have a right to new people, a new person to feel like this for...but not Stewy.

But it is, for some strange, new reason.

The camera shutters on you and him.

"Can I kiss you? It'll be modest. Cheeky."

It doesn't take you more than two seconds for it to slip out.

"...Sure. Yeah."

"Alright, yeah."

Stewy says it quietly before he kisses your cheek.

Oh, God.

The camera shutter, you might be...shuddering. You smile anyway. The photographer smiles too.

"Alright, make sure to catch the bouquet!"

They walk off and Stewy doesn't let go of you. You realize that he was holding it before the photographer came up for photos.

...Just breathe, just breathe.

And you do, Stewy's face doesn't stop you from breathing, you're able to breathe into it. Because of it - suddenly.

With his smile, with his smile.

...Maybe you'll indulge, maybe you have been indulging.

"I-"

You were going to, just before there's the sound of immense gagging. Vomiting.

"Fuck!"

"Rome?"

"Roman? What the fuck?"

Stewy turns to the commotion, brows rising up.

"Oh...oh. Fuck. That's disgusting."

It's Roman puking chunks onto the grass. Tabitha stands over him, complete ohs and rightful confusion on now knowing what to do. His father, Logan just looks completely disappointed.

Roman's hunches over. He's holding his head in what you know to be complete pain.

What the fuck?

"Roman?"

Of course, he doesn't answer you. You go to go up to him, but there's a hand on yours.

"I think we can go inside. Roman's vomit breath will meet us there, it looks like he's got enough people to check on him and his insides."

"I don't th-"

Even after everything, or because of everything, you still try and go to Roman. But Tabitha's hands rubbing his back stop you.

It takes the breath out of you.

Yeah, it's just...he'll meet you inside. Roman's got comfort, he decided it wouldn't be you and that'll stop hurting.

Roman will stop hurting a lot easier than you, you're sure. It'll be okay, you've got the rest of your life to take his insults of tonight.

"Okay, yeah. Let's go."

You hear the last of the gags as you and Stewy head inside to the start of the reception.

"I think they got my favorite desert, actually. I don't know how. If I'm feeling sultry and you're feeling consensual, I'll fork it into your mouth for you to try."

"...Sounds sultry. Okay"

You neither lean or move away from his hand on the small of your back. You let him pick something out of your hair.

"Roman, what the fuck? You okay, bro?"

"That was...you okay, son?"

You won't catch how Roman can't catch his breath. He can't recover. He can't come up from his knees. He actually lowers.

Tabitha's hands feels like bees, unfuckingfortunately. Roman crawls away and jolts at her palm finding him again.

"Stop! Just- it's fine. Stop. Sorry, sorry, Tab's. Dad, I'm good. I'm-"

He hacks. He can't breathe.

He knows why he can't breathe, but where are you? Where are the hands that actually feel like life digging back into his lungs?

Roman looks up.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

Where are you?

"Roma-"

Whoever's talking to him gets interrupted by more vomiting. He's choking on it.

"Oh fucking Christ. I'm going, I'm going inside, Pinky. Someone get him water. Absolutely disgusting."

He would say he doesn't know what he did, but he does. He just doesn't...but he's sorry.

Where did you go? Why don't you come back?

"Roman, baby-"

"Don't fuckin-I said! I said stop. Sorry, you'll touch me later. I'm sorry."

He really fucking is, but someone else will be. If Roman sees Stewy in there...the bullet in Roman's head will be his to blame. That'll make him feel better.

Roman wipes his mouth, his eyes. He sniffles.

"Are you cry-"

"No! Tabitha, stop! Shiv - go get banged, it's your wedding day."

He can feel eyes. So, he's right. Staring does mean things.

"Fuck off!"

[sunsdiary]

( @ ) YOUR LOVE IS THE ONLY MELODY ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა . . .

sephiroth & gn reader · rhadore period · mini!sephiroth · he's around 17 · you're two years older · hurt/comfort · angst and feelings

"do you like sweets, sephiroth?"

he shifts his jade eyes over to your hand, his pupils resembling feline slits which expand the more he wore your warmth as comfort against his skin.

his body naturally flinches from this, but he lets out a weary hum soon after.

"mmm..."

finally landing on your own eyes, he met them in a nervous hast. there was an unreadable expression forming there as he went to open his mouth to speak, taking the candy from your other hand as his attention went back to his arm.

you were patching him up after another fight with the rhadores.

when you smile at the youth, it encourages him to take it.

"...it looks... interesting. but i heard they rot your teeth?"

sephiroth stares at the wrapper in your hand, his expression a mix of curiosity and almost skepticism, as if such a thing were unheard of in camp.

but, he still studies it closely, examining its shape and colour before looking over to you.

you let out a soft, hearty chuckle, giving him a dismissive gesture with your eyes as you go to wrap a bandage around his forearm.

"well..." you say doubtfully. "maybe not... but! i heard just one sweet alone can cure any tummy ache."

all he does is deadpan, "but my stomach doesn't hurt?" sephiroth then looks at the dressing, watching red seep through the material. it stings a bit, yet he doesn’t flinch.

you then poke at the middle of his chest, placing the tip of your index finger on his turtleneck. he follows your digit.

"inside, here."

he gives you this doubtful look, interest still on the tip of his thoughts, but, it was an amusing one, at that.

sephiroth takes a moment to consider your words carefully.

"i suppose i could try it. if you say it'll make me feel better, i guess there's no harm giving it a taste..."

he pauses briefly before taking it from your palm and unwrapping it. he pops it into his mouth, and thats when his eyes widen almost instantly at the sweetness hitting his taste buds.

you give him a wide grin, watching him chomp on it enthusiastically. although, the thought of him chewing rock candy made you cringe a bit. . .it was still extremely endearing to watch how caught up he was in its flavour.

something new and unfamiliar, again.

"you like it?"

sephiroth continues chomping the candy, his eyes glazed over with content at the newfound and strange excitement. when he finally swallows, he licks his lips, a very subtle grin growing on his face.

he nods, "it does taste. . .rather good. i never thought something sweet could taste. . .so nice?" you forgot that sephiroth was never rewarded with such snacks before in his life.

you stand, ruffling the youth's hair about.

"then i shall ask the camp to bring more candies in for the young man. wouldn't want you perishing on the battlefield, would we?"

perceiving his bandage again, you brush some hair out of his face. "you're all patched up. i think glenn, lucia and the rest of the team are waiting outside for you."

sephiroth looks down at his treated arm, wiggling and flexing his fingers to test its durability. after appreciating your handiwork, he looks up at you, expression returning to his signature look; neutral.

"thank you. it feels much better already."

you swore for a second that a smile ghosted his lips in that moment, and your heart skips a beat.

he looks toward the door, where his comrades were waiting for him outside. but in that moment, there was a sense of uncertainty in his movements.

you had never seen sephiroth break his resolute before, causing you to tilt your head in mild confusion.

"is something bothering you, sephiroth? you know, you can always tell me. are you having girl problems? i know the younger nurses can be quite the-"

sephiroth cuts you off, looking at the ground as he speaks, "it's... not that. just... sometimes i get lonely. when it's silent, and everyone is asleep, i cannot stop thinking about..."

its like your body froze up when he bombarded you, and initially, you weren't sure what to say or how to react. sephiroth has never been good at reading the room, but this may be your only chance to figure him out.

you needed to know why he was upset. you could sense it, even from a weeks ago.

sephiroth trails off, mumbling, his grip on the bedsheets tightening.

you sensed the pain in his voice, and it compels you to sit back down to sooth his back with your palm. the sudden touch makes him flinch, giving you a side eye with a slight furrow on his face before sighing.

you chuckle nervously at his response.

"well, you don't have to worry about getting lonely when you have me, right? i'm not sure how long this war will last, but good things will come from it."

sephiroth looks up at you, eyes interlocking with yours. they were always intimidating, and beautiful, which was always why you could never bring yourself to look into them directly. you were certain that, if you did, your heart would shatter.

but that was already too late when his pupils form a thin line; you could feel the emptiness staring back at you.

but he faulters, unable to hold your gaze, and it catches you off guard.

there's a hint of vulnerability in the way his lips quirk up at your words.

what did you mean by that?

he nods slowly, the corners of his lips tugging up into a hurtful smile, almost as if what you said was some sort of joke.

"yes. . .you're right. as long as you're here with me, i won't be lonely. . ."

sephiroth pauses for a moment, considering his next words carefully; he didn't want to make you upset, he already felt terrible and awkward for bringing this up with you, but something was stuck in his throat.

"do you think. . .we'll win this war?"

a breeze seeps through the front of the tent and it blows his fringe away from his forehead. your mouth comes to open slightly, hesitating in a stutter, but you end up giving him another awkward smile of comfort instead.

"if we have faith, i think we will. the rest of P0 seem positive about it, despite what we have seen thus far with the rhadore's."

maybe those were the wrong choice of words. . .

sephiroth looks away from you, and somehow you knew why he felt so vulnerable at the mention of the native's.

"will you bring rosen back with you? i'm sure you'll have a lot of fun showing him around midgar?"

and then a pain shoots up his chest; he coughs and he ponders your question for a moment, expression growing despondent. you were closest to him out of all the medics.

he could trust you. he does trust you. but whats stopping him?

"when the war is over, i... i'm not sure." he pauses, contemplating.

"i suppose i should go back to midgar, but... i don't know what awaits me there, if there's anything for me to return to. and as for rosen... it's up to him if he wishes such a thing. it all just feels so..."

he trails off again and you tilt your head at him, a hint of sadness spreading over his sharp green eyes, dulling them a bit more.

you knew this was a touchy topic for sephiroth, but you needed him to know that you will always be there for him. even when he doesn't want the comfort, and even when his mind fights you off.

you go to hold his hand, giving it a tight squeeze of support and encouragement. he looks down vacantly, although, there was a feeling of tingly sensation and warmth behind it. something he had never felt before. something that was foreign to him.

he meets your eyes again, squinting a bit, as if he was fighting back tears from spilling from them.

"it all feels so... empty, i guess. like there's something missing... something that i am supposed to be seeking, fulfilling. but... i don't even know what that is? i feel lost, and..."

his voice trembles, and that was it, the tear he had been holding back forms in his waterline.

a few more seconds of silence pass and he takes his hand back from you, feeling a disgusting sentiment called insecurity. he brushes over his face with his glove, letting you know so.

you know he's not trying to show any weakness right now, yet how sweetly you encourage him to speak his mind to you, makes his heart beat faster than what he was originally upset with.

don't burden yourself with me, he'd probably be thinking right about now.

you always knew that sephiroth was a little different from the rest of his comrades. he never had friends, maybe considering him an outcast and a major introvert. but you wanted to show him that people did care about him, that people would miss him. that you would miss him.

"it's okay to be a little sad sometimes, sephiroth. just because you're strong, doesn't mean you can't feel these types of emotions, y'know? if you couldn't shed a few tears, i'd be worried." you scratch the back of your head, giving a nervous laugh.

his head is still turned away from you, but you knew he was listening attentively to your words, somehow. his hands ball into fists as they tremble under your touch when you go to reach out to him. he struggles to keep his composure, and ohhh how much it irritates him.

and the worst feeling of all, he doesn't know why he is feeling this way.

"i... i know. but... i'm supposed to be strong all the time. that's what everyone expects of me. i'm supposed to be the one who... who leads the team, who takes charge, who doesn't show weakness. i don't want to disappoint everyone. i don't... want to disappoint you."

the pain hitches in your throat, and your body grows warm. why were you happy to hear that? especially now, of all times.

you shake your head sincerely, rubbing over his knuckle to the arm that had the bandage around.

"ahh. . .sephiroth. . ." you let out a sigh. "is that really how you think i feel. . .?"

"even if you don't know what that is yet, i'm sure it will come to you in the future." you finally let out a puff of air from your lungs which you had been holding in forever.

somehow, his emotions were getting the best of you. he stays silent a bit more, not really sure how to response to you.

"and don't you think that's a bit much for someone your age? just because people have expectations of you, doesn't mean they can treat you selfishly? you're not some machine, with no feelings or concerns. you don't have to feel these things alone. why do you do this to yourself?"

you grip his wrist now and he turns to you, eyebrows furrowing and eyes lowering.

"lean on me, rely on me. focus on people who are important to you."

you then chuckle at the thought of glenn squeezing sephiroth in a suffocating hug, and sephiroth looks up at you momentarily to catch it in his vision.

he loves it when you smile.

"and even P0 will listen to your concerns. they always have shown endless compassion towards you, have they not? they care about you. don't take these relationships for granted. you will miss them in the future."

did you really mean that, though? or were you selfish; did you want him to only feel this way about you?

but nonetheless, sephiroth still listens closely to your words, absorbing every tone and every syllable that falls out of your mouth, like a sponge. he's not sure what you're trying to get at, but his heart absorbs it like deoxygenated blood, and the tear finally slips down his cheek.

he nods slowly, lifting your hand up as his follows yours. the pads of both your fingers touch before he clasps your palm, the light seeping through the zipper of the tent, illuminating the back of your head. he only just realises that you may be thinking he's staring at you. . .

"maybe. . ."

he takes a shaky inhale, his voice barely above a whisper, his tongue clicking in his mouth.

"but. . .you don't have to go out of your way to save me". and then he slips away from you again, when you were so close to understanding him.

you give him a weak smile, understanding however. "do you think you'll find that eventually? do you think you'll be happy after you know what that missing piece is?"

sephiroth then smiles, a smile you had never seen on his face before. it was genuine and raw and real, and maybe you were that reason.

"maybe i have already found that missing piece."

when he looks up at you, his expression faulters and his heart skinks into the abyss. there's a look of hurt on your face, and he's not sure where that came from.

he clicks his tongue again, avoiding your gaze, nettling in his own emotions again.

"i don't feel like i am. there's... always this. . .emptiness inside of me. like something is. . .missing. and no matter how strong i become, it just. . .doesn't fill that void."

he now looks at you straight in the face. "and everytime you show me such compassion, i'm not sure whether i'm feeling it correctly or not."

you're silent again; oh how easily he made you mute, so you stand, ruffling his hair again to try and brighten the mood. you then wipe his tear away with the back of your knuckle, his skin soft against your touch.

"what will you do now then?"

sephiroth looks up at you, his hair disheveled; he looks more innocent this way. he manages a small, grateful smile despite his lingering uncertainty.

"i don't know? i suppose i'll just keep doing what i'm doing. keep fighting, keep trying to be the best version i can be. . .and i hope that someday, i'll find what i am looking for. or. . .maybe it will find me instead."

you smile at him, meeting his gaze, albeit, his eyes a little red.

"i'm sure you will. you're blessed, sephiroth. only good things happen to those who are blessed."

you stand, releasing his hand. "now. . .i think we should let the team know i've patched you up and you're ready to move. are you good to go back?"

he lets your words sink in, his behaviour changing in almost an instant at the mention of his team and the work that lay ahead. his posture straightens and his expression shifts aloofly.

"yes, i'm ready. let's go back."

sephiroth stands up, a little more determined than before. somehow, you found it cute, and on the other hand, it somehow made you sad, that you were his only form of encouragement.

despite how he felt, there was a newfound resolve in his mind that he couldn't ignore.

you watch him walk out of the tent, the sob that you had been holding in the entire conversation, spills out quietly.

"that boy. . .this world is undeserving of him. please, don't take him away from me."

[eldritch-spouse]

Which Minecraft monsters would you smash

Also there’s this monster from a mod called The Obsessed whose whole thing is that he’s a dangerous obsessive stalker and like at first he was just kinda a shadowy guy but then he got a cool spidery monster form so

Okay so- Are we including mods? Because if so, I'd need time to compose an actual list, and it would be lengthy.

Endermen. The warden. I did draw an anthro creeper maid guy, so I suppose... That's kind of it for the base game.

When it comes to dwellers, my favorite is probably "Can't Breathe", not because he's particularly original, but because I like the silly little way he poses when you find him staring you down. I also just really like the way his mouth opens. (I even sketched him, it'll be at the end of this post.)

There are other dwellers I like, such as The Mimic; The One Who Watches; The Goatman; The Slumbering Omen (this last one is very cool, extremely unforgiving though)...

The thing that I dislike about dweller mods is that a lot of them get repetitive real fast. Even the ones who try to be different end up joining the "senseless screamerfest" category, taking away a lot of the enjoyment and thrill from me because I know I'm going to get my eardrums raped. I'm not afraid of the dweller, I'm afraid of the sudden loud noise that will literally prevent me from reacting in time to do anything and avoid dying.

What I like about the dwellers is that they're inherently obsessive entities. They're out there just to hunt you down, and that really kicks my chase kink into high gear, so of course I want a "big bad" mob out there sniffing after me and knocking on my shitty wooden house's doors at night. That's the good stuff!

If I could code for a damn, I'd make a dweller mod where a monster guy just follows you around because he thinks you're cute, but whenever you stare back at him, he runs and hides clumsily because he's shy. That's it. That the mod. Does he hurt you? Not really but he kills every villager you trade with and carves little hearts on the trees next to your home. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, here's the shittiest sketch of Can't Breathe.

[reilliane]

i promised scara brainrots, here we go! slightly angsty, but more on the fluff side this time (surprisingly) and pretty self-indulgent! this is long lmao

✤ she/her

SPOILERS FOR 3.3 ARCHON QUEST!

: ̗̀➛ Reverse Isekai AU (becoming besties with a fictional character- wait, why is he here)

Imagine being in a fit of tears after playing through the Archon Quest. It's always been known that the narrative behind Scaramouche—Kunikuzushi, Kabukimono, Balladeer- just him, is tragic. But boy, with the way everything fell into place, he was meant for tragedy, it's awful.

It's difficult to focus on the characters' dialogue when you're busy trying to see through the blurriness of your eyes, but you manage. You hear him say something to the Traveler, and there shows up a choice box like always. Paying no mind to it, as you are occupied with sniffing and catching your breath, you press whatever.

He mentions ceasing, as what the trailer for version 3.3 entailed, and he's gone, and- wait. Did your game crash? Why is it frozen on a particular scene? Huh, your device shut down- your progress!?

Alas, you're not in the mood to lament over that when you can just spill woe over the story for the mean time. So you do just that, weep and roll around in your bed kicking your feet 'cause wow, yes, the guy's evil and all- but damn! His life is founded on nothing but angst! When you pull for him in game, you'll be placing him in the teapot with only the finest of comforts availa— OUCH!?

To your pain and confusion, something drops onto you from above, crushing your back as that something eventually topples out of your bed with a loud cuss. Wait a minute, was that a voice-? You take a peek and start laughing. Ahahaha, no, impossible, why- that only happens in fanfiction! Yet, his demanding question that reaches your ears in real time only serves to remind you that this is real.

“What the hell are you laughing at, you puny mortal? Answer my question or die where you stand!” AHAHAHA YOU'RE TRIPPIN'!

News flash, you're not. Because all of a sudden you are being pinned on the bed, with a very angry little man above you that doesn't seem to be joking around with what he said about killing you.

Holy smokes, it's supposed to be impossible but no, he's right there. On top of you. If you were reading some kind of e rated fanfiction in ao3, you would've screamed because hey he's looking pretty handsome right now but- woah, woah, calm dOWN SIR YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR ANSWERS!

As expected, Scaramouche does not believe an ounce of what you say, but resigns to it. After all, he has already 'deleted' his existence in Teyvat, it'd only seem logical if he were to be transported in an entirely different world...

Now, as he is a smart guy, he very quickly deduces that you somehow know him. Oh boy, imagine telling him that he's someone from a game. At first, he'll laugh bitterly at it, saying something like 'of course. my misery was some kind of amusement, is it?' BRO mission therapy starts now. You're no Nahida, but still!

Now imagine him learning that he has 'fans'. Boy will be so confused like, fans what fans- do you mean those accessories orrrr-

He understands what you meant when you show him that he has a 'following', and he's pretty stumped. He only ever knew Haypasia, he had a single follower, but in this place- he had... tens of thousands? HUH? HUH??

As he's already been given a reality slap by the Traveler and Nahida, he's no longer in the mindset to be all god-like, but boy the temptation... until he realizes that he doesn't have any elemental powers. And he's become human. Oh boy.

When he realizes that he's breathing and has a heartbeat, dude stares at you for like a minute straight. Is this real? Look, look! He snatches your hand and holds it over his chest and- holy hell he's right, he has a beating heart.

Give him some space to process things, his mind is currently exploding right now.

It'll take him time to understand that he's loved as much as he is hated in this world. The latter he understands, but the former... oh, is this real? He still can't believe it, so you had to go through various social media platforms just to prove a point. He bares his eyes to numerous 'posts' that range from 'YO HE BETTER COME HOME I'LL TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIM', 'AHSDAKJHDJAKDHA HE'S SO HOT BARK BARK YEOAWOADSADH', and other more... flustering posts.

HE'S LOVED! Well, he's also hated, but he's LOVED! In all his confused snark, he asks you where you stand in those two groups. Bro's putting you on the spot, good luck.

If you manage to evade that question, you'll tell him that he's free to stay with you until he gets the ropes of this world. It'll be a bit difficult to adjust with someone new and yes you've screamed far too many times when he pops up somewhere in the house, completely still in disbelief that he's there, but it'll be alright.

When you first accompany him outside, you had to throw him in huge clothes just so that he won't be noticeable. Even if he was 'humanized', he still looks a lot like how he does in game, not to mention his voice. He dislikes hiding, but has to put up with it.

Bro highkey basks in the glory when you both go to a genshin convention and see all the love for him. It's the one time he gets to dress up in his Harbinger attire (though he admits he dislikes having connections with it after knowing the truth) and show himself without fear of hearing "YO ARE YOU SCARAMOUCHE? YOU LOOK LIKE THE REAL DEAL!" because cosplayers are a thing. When he finds out that he gets a 'redesign' he pesters you to buy him the outfit. How laughable, how can the OG guy not have his own made clothes in the game??? You cave of course.

He's still a smug lil shi- though, so he will say that he is the one and only 'Wanderer/Scaramouche' when asked in the convention. Your panicked screaming in the background is thoroughly enjoyed, please, continue giving a good show as he revels in all the attention. Before long, posts about him are scattering all around the internet and you lecture him about the mob on your door and the diehard "HE'S MINE!" fans that has sent threats in your social media. They still believe he's just a really good cosplayer, but still...

“Hah, what're you so scared of?” he'll just smirk in the middle of your lecture, “They won't be able to land a hand on you so long as I'm here.”

Cue malfunction. He knows what he's doing, isn't he? This smug piece of- you'll kick him back into the game if you could!

“Like hell you will. Even if you can, you won't do it. Your boring human life has only become interesting because I'm here.” + :P

DAMN, HE RIGHT THOUGH!

ive always liked his character from the moment he appeared in that first event but now that his lore is fleshed out it's time to go ham >:D

[pythonees]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ GUTS — johnny slaughter

WARNINGS: 18+, you're shorter than johnny in this (wiki says he's 6ft), f!soft-bodied!reader, sadistic!johnny (this man thrives off of other peoples pain he would enjoy it in bed too), light knife play, blood play, kidnapping, coercion, crying, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, typical tcm shit

A/N: please do not flag this for no reason, just block me. flagging my work as mature means it isn't seen by as many people in the tags when searched. Also!!!!, this is really long for no reason (4k words) AND I already have a multi part no slasher!AU in the works that's gonna be bordering on 10 chapters, knowing me it'll eternally be a wip tho...

Taking in a shaky breath, you hold it, willing the pounding of your heart to calm down as you listen for any movement around you. All you hear is the sounds of the forest, but still you sit and wait. You had been separated from the others that you had escaped with, though you suppose separated is the wrong word to use in this situation.

One of the girls that had been captured with you, a tall girl with matted brown hair and milky, bruise covered skin, had shoved you the second she had heard a noise from one of your kidnappers as they gained up on you. You had fallen down a pretty steep slope, thankfully lost in the heavy foliage that covered the ground and shrouded you instead of becoming the bait she wanted you to be.

It takes you more time than you would like to admit to get your bearings back, unable to see anything from under a bush. It hurts to breathe, and your vision is hazy from hitting your head on the way down. There's the sound of a too close chainsaw revving up above you, making the pounding of your head worsen, followed by the screams of the traitor that shoved you down the slope.

"Please, please, don't do this. I haven't done anything wrong!" She cries, as if she didn't just try to trade your life in for her own. You wince when you hear her scream again, drowned out by the chainsaw cutting through her flesh and blood splattering onto every nearby surface. The sound has your stomach curling, but a part of you feels that she had it coming for what she did to you.

When the stomping of the mask wearing man's feet are a distant, you allow yourself to breathe more comfortably, loosening up your death grip on the old piece of pipe you had grabbed as a weapon when you got out of your restraints. Your fingers ache, knuckles popping as they relax for the first time in what has felt like hours.

"That's what you get, twig ass bitch," you mutter under your breath. When your heart beat finally goes back to a more normal level, and you don't feel like you're about to shake out of your skin, you slowly drag yourself out from the brush, looking around the slowly darkening woods for a way to go.

Readjusting your grip on the pipe, you slowly make your way away from the chaos, hoping that they don't look down here for you.

You don't know where you're going or how far you've gotten, all you know is that you greatly regret putting on a skirt yesterday morning. Not only has it gotten caught on just about everything while you've been running for your life, but the humid Texas heat has caused your thighs to chafe something fierce, and it's starting to sting more than the cuts that litter your arms and torso.

Eventually, you find a shallow stream, and you quickly stumble your way to it. Dipping your fingers in, you sigh at the cool water against your sweaty skin. You carefully scoop some up into your hands, not wanting to make any noise as you press your face into your cupped hands.

There's a faint ribbon of red that you watch slowly get mixed into the water, and you dump it into the stream, watching it quickly disappear. You scoop up another cool batch of water, careful to keep any from spilling through your shaking fingers. It's as you're bringing your hands up to sip from the water that you feel all the hair on your body stand up on end, heart racing.

Looking into the trees, you slowly stand up, turning in place. You can't really see anything, but you know you're not crazy. You also know that you're absolutely fucked. The forest is not something you find yourself in often, or at all, really, and considering it borders onto these crazy fuckers property... they probably knew where you were the whole time.

You want to yell, to scream out your frustrations onto whoever it is that's following you. But your voice is dry, and even breathing has started to feel like too much, your voice cracking around the whispered words, "I-" you swallow roughly, eyes frantically looking around, "I know you're there."

You hear nothing around you, but you know. There are eyes on you. Just how close... you have no idea.

The next breath you take is shaky, eyes watering as you hop over the little stream. Taking another look around you and still finding nothing, you continue on your way.

Crickets jump around you as you carefully make your way to what you hope is safety, spooking you every time they jump in front of your vision. You're struggling for air as the mounting panic starts to cloud your senses, breaths coming in rushed puffs. Your heart is pounding in your ears, so loud that you don't hear the sound of someone walking behind you.

You let out a scream when the back of your shirt is grabbed and yanked, thrusting your elbow back as hard as possible and hitting them in the stomach. There isn't any give, a hard plane of muscle that probably hurts you more than them.

"Well! Look who we've got here!" The man says, a laugh coating his voice. His hand twists in your shirt, the collar of it tightening around your throat. With a rough yank your back is flush against his chest, and you catch the glint of his knife as he presses his fist into your stomach, the tip of the blade nicking the underside of your breast.

You hiss in pain, flinching away from the blade and bumping into his chest. The nearly too tight grip he has on your shirt disappears, but you aren't able to take a breath before that hand has come around to grip at your throat. The thick expanse of his calloused fingers press into your smooth skin, the pressure your neck a warning that has you freezing on the spot.

His fingers flutter, pressing into the sides of your throat, and the breathy sound you let out has both of you freezing in place. His chest pushes against your back as he takes in a deep breath, the exhale painting goosebumps along your damp neck. The man's grip loosens just slightly, before squeezing again. Another moan is pulled from you, and you can feel the man laugh against your back, the low tone sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh, am I gonna 'ave fun with you." The man drops the hand from around your throat, using it to grip your upper arm, steering you back the way you came. The tip of his blade is still scraping your skin, the constant pain seeming to send shocks all over your body. He takes a sharp turn that you aren't prepared for, a gasp leaving you as he shoves you up against a particularly thick tree.

The blade in his hand is dropped to the forest floor, his left hand cupping your cheek roughly as he directs your face up to his. His brown eyes are impossibly dark as they take you in, free hand palming your waist. He’s hiked up your flowy, flower patterned shirt, his big hand sliding up your torso to thumb at the cut under your breast.

You hiss in pain, but that only seems to excite him, the man bringing his blood covered thumb up to his lips, tongue poking out to guide the appendage into his mouth. The low moan that escapes him has you clenching your thighs together, eyes wide as you watch his thumb slide out of his mouth, traces of your bright red blood left on his tongue.

“Fuck, best thing 've ever tasted,” he mutters, hands moving to collect more of the slow trickling blood. Your hands are shaky as they grip onto his blood stained tank top, watching his face as he stares down at his hand, thick fingers disappearing into the meat of your breast instead of swiping up more of your blood.

He dips his head down to mouth at your neck, teeth unforgiving against your skin. His tight grip on you and the tree at your back keeps you from flinching away, at his mercy as his teeth work at your flesh. He doesn't break skin, but it's a near thing, a bruise no doubt starting to form already.

“Ah, hurts,” you whine, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Despite the pain, you don't try to push him away, hands steadily holding his black tank. Hot puffs of breath dance over your damp skin as he laughs, running his tongue over the bruised flesh before pulling back to look at you.

“That so?” Hesitantly, you nod, heart pounding as you let your weight fully rest up against the tree, breathing shaky as his previously idle hand starts to palm at your breast. His large hand seems to engulf you, and you can't help but push into his touch. He's rough with this too, as you suspect he is with all things, groping you while he watches on with a satisfied look on his face.

Slowly, your fingers unclench from his shirt, and you press your hand flat against his chest. You can feel his warmth even through his shirt, hands trailing absently over his defined pecs. You watch your hands move as he chuckles, eyes flicking up to find him smirking down at you.

“Pretty little thing like you,” he starts, thumb running along your cheekbone, “bet you're sweet all over, ain't ya?"

The next breath you take is shaky, eyes wide and glassy as you stare up at him. He hums, head tilting as he observes you.

“Wanna know what I think?” He whispers, head dipping down again. This time he doesn't bite you, though there's still a twinge of pain as he sucks over the bruises his teeth had made. Your response is lost in your gasp, knees buckling at the unexpected current of pleasure that wracks through you. If it weren't for him pressing you against the tree, you would probably be on the ground right now.

“Think I'm gonna keep you all to myself. You'd be my good girl, won't you?” He moves up to mouth at your jaw, wet open mouthed kisses following his path to your mouth, “Whaddya say, think you could be Johnny's good girl?”

Through the fear pumping through you at the thought of what would happen to you if you said no, there's a part of you, a sick and twisted part, that really, desperately wants to succumb to this sadistic man's whims. You know saying yes would be just as bad as what will happen if you say no. There's no knowing what he would do to you, but that part of you frankly doesn't care.

“Please,” you whisper, letting your hands wrap around his broad torso, palms flat against his back as you press his muscular body against yours, as if he could get any closer, “so good. I'll be your good girl.”

You don't fight the hand on your face as he guides you, eyes fluttering at the close proximity of your faces. Johnny's eyes are crinkled at the corners, his smirk pressed against the corner of your mouth, “Good.”

Johnny's lips are aggressive as they press against yours, seeming to consume you as his tongue bullies its way into your mouth. There's nothing you can do but endure the attack, moaning and gasping into his mouth as his other hand continues to grope you.

Overwhelmed by the force of his kiss, you can't keep yourself still. Tree bark scrapes your skin with every shudder his skillful tongue pulls from you, but you barely feel it. All you feel is him, his all encompassing presence that looms over you and threatens to consume your very being.

Through his jeans and your skirt, you can feel his erection pressing into your lower stomach as you shift against him. The feeling of it seems to awaken something in you, a primal urge you've never felt before, your hands dropping from his back to pathetically fumble at the bottom of his tank. Once you get your hands on his skin you can't keep them still, running them up and down the warm expanse of his back.

You can feel slight imperfections on his skin, long lines of damaged flesh that match the scars on his face. You trace over them, letting your nails trail over his skin in your exploration. There's barely enough space between you to breathe, but somehow you're able to wedge your arms between the two of you to trace over his stomach.

The skin there is soft, though you can still feel the faint definition of the muscles beneath. You continue to run your hands up, though just as your fingers dance along his pecks the hand groping you is instantly grabbing your wrist, yanking it out and pressing your hand roughly against the tree next to your head.

“Not yet, I ‘ain't had my fun,” he mumbles against your neck, giving your bottom lip a little nip before he pulls away completely. He lets go of your hand, the other dropping from your face to pull up the bottom of your skirt. His big hands palm at your ass, fingers harsh as they squeeze.

All too soon he's stepping back from you, arms crossed as his eyes drag over your form. You feel squirmy under his gaze, fingers fidgeting with each other as you wait for him to say or do anything.

“Y’look like you have too much clothes on,” he says, and you can hear the hidden command in his words. You're quick to ruck your shirt over your head, the thin lace bra sticking to your sweaty skin. Trembling fingers take longer than you'd like to work the button of your skirt, though once that's open you're able to shove it down over plush thighs, letting it fall to the forest floor.

“That's it darlin’, why don't you get laid out real nice for me, huh?” He's leering at you, watching the way your body moves as you sit down on the forest floor. He seems to enjoy watching you follow his every command, hand absently palming his erection the whole time.

You're careful as you lay down, making sure to stuff your now dirt covered clothes underneath you as some sort of padding. There's still rocks and sticks that make it uncomfortably uneven, but at least they won't be cutting into your skin. Once you're settled, thighs clenched tight and hands fidgeting on your stomach, you look up at Johnny as you wait for instructions.

He hums, taking the few steps needed to stand at your feet, “Good girl.”

You can't keep the pleased hum down, watching him with wide eyes as he start's unbuckling his belt. He doesn't bother to take it off though, undoing the button and zipper before he's kneeling at your feet.

He plants both hands on your knees, pushing them open to stare down at you. You know you're wet, you can feel the fabric of your panties sticking to your skin uncomfortably. There's probably a wet spot too, and you turn your head away when you notice the smug look on his face.

A thick finger presses right over your hole, going as deep as the fabric can allow. Your pussy clenched at the intrusion, desperate for him to fill you. Rolling your hips up, you try to force the finger deeper, huffing when he pulls away.

“What a desperate little thing, hmm?” He slips a finger through the crotch of your panties, pulling them off of you roughly. You lift your hips to help aid the process, hands falling between your legs to cover yourself up.

"Thought you wanted to be my good girl," Johnny says, hand coming up to gently cradle the side of your face, a sharp contrast to his mean glare and condescending tone that he directs at you. Your heart pounds in your chest, legs falling open to allow him enough space to shuffle forward.

"I do. I- I am," you manage to choke out, slowly pulling your hands away from where you were covering yourself. Instead you fist them in his dirty shirt to try and bring his mouth down to yours, whining when he doesn't budge at your insistent tugging.

The smirk that spreads over his face sends a shiver down your spine, and his thumb glides down your cheek to prod at your kiss swollen lips. He tugs the bottom lip down, pressing the pad of his thumb roughly against your tender flesh.

"Open," he commands, and you do so without a thought. He's slow as he eases his thumb into your mouth, letting you lave your tongue over his calloused skin before it's easing further into your mouth. His thumb, thick and long and big like the rest of his fingers, teases at the back of your throat, and you feel tears collecting as you fight back the urge to gag at the intrusion.

He takes pity on you, slowly pulling his thick thumb from your mouth to then harshly press it against your clit. The rough pressure has your hips bucking, not knowing if you want to roll up against the touch or pull away. Johnny doesn't give you an option either way, thick fingers practically disappearing into your thigh to keep you still, gripping so hard you're surprised they haven't torn through your flesh.

You can't stop the desperate sounds that fall from your lips, your pleas garbled as your legs fall further open. His blunt nails scrape the delicate flesh above your clit as he abuses your sex, drawing loud, drawn out whines as you writhe on the forest floor. Johnny only seems to thrive on your suffering, shifting so that he can press two fingers into you at the same time. You're embarrassingly wet, so they easily slide in despite how thick his fingers are, relieving the empty feeling that has settled over you.

“Fuck, woman, you're wetter than all hell,” he's sat back to watch the way your cunt greedily sucks his fingers in, hips rolling down to match the thrusting of his fingers. Wet squelching fills the forest, your soft, breathy gasps barely heard over the sound.

Johnny crowds into your space, leaving a trail of bites up your neck and to your lips. The kiss is rough, teeth clicking together from the rough treatment before he comes in at a better angle. It's dirty and sloppy and wet, teeth biting at your bottom lip every time he pulls back to take a breath.

It's too much, a sensory overload that has your brain turning to mush. His fingers curl aggressively inside you, thumb rubbing painful circles on your clit. Slowly, your hands release the death grip they have on his shirt, unsteady as they move to thread through his short hair. The tight grip you have on his hair has him growling out a warning, the nip he gives to your lip drawing blood.

You hastily grab onto the back of his shirt, tears blurring your vision as you pull back from his lips with a desperate gasp. Heaving breaths escape your lips, moans and whines tumbling into pleas as you beg him not to stop. He presses a kiss to your forehead that's more teeth than lips because of his wide grin, a dark chuckle following soon after.

Hips rolling desperately into his touch, you chase the orgasm you can feel building.

“That's it, give it to me,” his voice is low, and the command sends a shiver down your spine, cunt clenching around his fingers. Your gasps get stuck in your throat, high pitched whines drowning out the sound of your arousal as you cum.

Johnny doesn't let up even after you've cum, fingers working at you at a brutal pace, bringing another orgasm that hurts as much as it feels good. You try in vain to pull away from his touch, but he just holds your hips down with his free hand, fingers working ruthlessly as you twitch and cry.

“Good girl,” Johnny finally lets up, pulling his soaked hand from between your legs. He licks a long stripe up his fingers, chuckling at the fucked out look on your face, “sweet as honey.”

You can't do much more than lay there watching him as he sits back on his heels, quickly pulling his tank top up over his head. His chest is littered with scars, and you can't help the way your eyes trace over each pale line that decorates his skin. They look like they were painful, and you're brushing a hand over one before you can even think.

Thankfully he doesn't get mad at you touching him this time, silent as he lets you explore. His skin is warm and surprisingly soft, a light dusting of hair trailing down from his belly button and disappearing into his pants. You let your nails trail through the hair, relishing in the deep sound that rumbles in his throat.

Lips pulled between your teeth, you can't help but admire the way his arms move as he works on pushing down his jeans. The muscles move under the flesh, arm as sturdy looking as the rest of him. You tug on the band of his jeans, inching them down over his legs, eyes laser focused onto his cock, no underwear in sight.

Your fingers wrap around his erection easily, swiping your thumb over the angry red head to collect the wetness there. The groan he lets out is heavenly, but he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand from him.

“We don't have the time for that right now, darlin’,” he says, shoving them down the rest of the way and kicking them off to the side. He pushes your legs up and open by the underside of your knees, shuffling forward to fill the empty space, “Now you be a good girl and hold these legs open for me, an’ I'll be makin’ you scream in no time.”

He lets go of your trembling legs the second you reach for them, grabbing the base of his dick and rubbing the tip through your folds, left forearm resting on the ground next to your head. It catches on your fluttering hole with every pass, a tease that has you whining for more, rocking your hips as much as you can.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but has only been a few seconds, he slides into you, letting go of his dick to rest his arm on the other side of your head. The stretch is painful, and you instinctively clench around the intrusion. He doesn't stop, merely laughing at your wince as his hips settle against yours.

There's no grace period given. His hips are pulling back before you can adjust to his girth, drilling into you with a deep and brutal pace that has you wailing. You can feel the sharp sting of your nails from how hard you're clenching your thighs, the pain seeming to heighten your pleasure.

Johnny's grin is wide and full of teeth, you can feel it against your neck. Then he's digging his teeth into the flesh, abusing the bruised flesh. You can't feel it though, lost in the haze of his cock pounding into you. You feel the breath being knocked out of you with every thrust, eyes blurry with the onset of tears.

Your throat hurts from your wailing, pleas barely distinguish whenever you're able to attempt speaking. Johnny either doesn't understand you or doesn't care enough to figure it out, laughing at your babbling. When he pulls back you can see blood on his lips and teeth, and then you feel the sting of the bite he left on you.

Johnny presses his lips to yours as your face scrunched up in pain, the coppery taste of your blood lingering even after he pulls away. You chase the taste off your lips with your tongue, unable to follow his lips as he sits up.

“Fuck,” he drawls, the voice drawn out as he bottoms out in you, watching the way your hips twitch to try and get any sort of friction, “fuckin’ soaked through that pretty little skirt you got layers out under you, best pussy I've ever had.”

Then there's a large hand fisting the hair at the back of your head, yanking your head back. Your yelp of pain is drowned out by the obscene sounds coming from your pussy while Johnny uses you as if you were a toy. Pace bordering on brutal, you hold onto your sweat dampened thighs as he chases his high.

He licks and nibbles at the still bleeding wound on your neck, drinking from you as his thrusts shift you across the forest floor. The salt from your tears sting as it hits the bite marks that cover your neck, a loud moan following when the taste of salt hits Johnny's tongue.

Thrusts becoming erratic, your only warning is his teeth clamping down on the side of your neck before you feel the liquid heat of Johnny’s cum filling you in bursts, pushed deeper into you by tiny thrusts. It's only when he finally stills inside of you that you are able to breath, taking big gasps as you gather yourself.

“Mmm, what a good girl you are,” Johnny mumbles against your neck, pulling back to look you over. You probably look a mess, hair frizzy from the heat and being yanked on by Johnny. You're also covered in blood, though Johnny probably relishes in the fact that he put it there. It's when his gaze settles on where you're still connected that you feel your face heat in embarrassment.

As he pulls out you can't help the way you whimper, desperate for him to fill you back up despite how tender your abused sex feels. The trail of cum that follows is quickly stuffed back into you by two thick fingers, plugging you up with his cum.

Large hands slide under your ass, tacky with your arousal. Your hands fall away from your thighs in surprise as he lifts your lower body off the ground so that you're resting on your shoulders.

“Probably tastes even better mixed with me,” he mumbles more to himself than to you. As Johnny licks a long stripe up from your fluttering, dripping hole to your clit, you find yourself melting into the pleasure that he is giving you, no longer caring about what will become of you when he's had his fill.

©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.

[bisexualfbiagents]

There is no right or wrong. Life is just a path. You follow your heart and it'll take you where you're supposed to go. God, you sound like a greeting card.

CELEBRATING 30 YEARS OF THE X FILES Day 3: Favorite Character ➤ Melissa Scully

[randomfoggytiger]

🌟 fic titles ask game 🌟

Send me an ask with the title of one of my fics below and I'll tell you why I chose it, the song it's from, the line in the fic that inspired it, or mayyyybe share a snip. 👀

Thanks for the tag, @sixhours! What a cool idea-- and I hope this ask game catches on~

Son of Egypt

"You Don't Know the First Thing About Me"

“You Had Nothing” 

“Mr. Mulder, I Know Something About You”

The Hospital Where You Slept

“You Feeling Any Better?” 

The Little Things

"It's Not a Choice, but a Calling"

"You Know My Memory Isn't What It Used to Be"

"You Follow Your Heart, and It'll Take You Where You're Supposed to Go"

Tagging if you want (here we go XDD): @baronessblixen, @welsharcher, @agent-troi, @amplifyme,

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@xxsksxxx, @hamster-on-fire, @gaycrouton, @unremarkablehouse,

@mldrgrl, @darwin-xf, @sigritandtheelves, and anyone else who sees this and wants to participate¬

[scarletwinterxx]

loving you is easy - mark lee imagine

hiiiii, 127 cb i have been summoned😅 for the past few weeks i've been inactive on all socmeds, sorry for the very few and slow posts. anyways, let's talk Fact Check haha what's your fave track? i think mine's Parade. the vocals in that one is soooo good.

So yeah i hope you like this one, i'll be back when I can💛🌻

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"It's one plane ride away, I'll be there in 3 months"

"That's 3 months too long" he grumbles, still pouting as he zips the last of his luggage. Mark hated being away for you, too many days and nights your time zone's don't line up. By the time it's morning for you, he'll be saying goodnight.

But now, things are about to change. This will be the last time you're saying goodbye to him for a long time but he doesn't know that. For now it's your little secret.

"It'll fly by fast, just like every other time. Now come here and give me cuddles, stop pouting like a kid" you tease him, opening your arms to welcome him.

Feeling his arms go around you, you further confirmed a fact you've known for years. The two of you can be continents away from each other, but your heart will always stay with one another. Mark really has become your home and in his arms are where you feel the safest and most loved.

"If you're sad then it's gonna make me sad, I don't want the last night to be all tears" you tell him, feeling his embrace tighten against you. He kisses the top of your head a few times before letting you go.

"You're right, sorry. No more sulking, it's just 3 months then you'll come to me" he smiles at you, the cute little dimple you love so much appearing on his cheek. You stand on your tiptoe to kiss it, savoring the warmth of him against your lips.

And you were right, the 3 months did fly by fast. Mainly because you were busy packing your apartment to move to another continent. You didn't keep much apart from your stuff and some of Mark's. It's kind of hard to travel with everything so you got rid of what you can.

The only person who knew you were coming was Johnny, who is currently waiting for you at the airport. Easily spotting the 6 foot Chicago guy from a distance.

"There she is! About time you got here, I don't think I can take another day of Mark whining about how much he misses you" he jokes, giving you a quick hug and taking your stuff to carry it himself.

"He doesn't know I'm coming, I'm suppose to fly out this weekend" you tell him while following behind

"Oh believe me I know, he won't let us forget"

You chuckle at his story, just thinking about surprising Mark makes you grin.

He dropped you off at Mark's apartment, you're familiar with the place since you've stayed here every time you fly over. What he doesn't know is you're here to stay with him for good.

It did took a lot of courage to make this decision but you didn't doubt it for a second. You know there's no other place you'd rather call home than where he is.

For a couple of hours you rested, cleaned the few dishes on the sink and picked up the towel he threw on the floor. A habit you knew he had, you've had that talk with him more than a few times and he always promises he won't do it again. You let him off the hook, for now.

You were in the bedroom when you hear someone by the door. Mark entered his place, tired from the whole day of work to notice the other pair of shoes by the door.

He threw his bag by the couch, along with his coat. He then walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, resting against the counter while he drinks and take a moment to look around.

This time he notices the dishes he was suppose to do this morning was gone. He brushed it off thinking he must've just forgotten he already did it. He then walked to the bedroom, the first thing he noticed was the towel that he definitely threw by the bed this morning. He remembers it because he's been thinking about it all day and how you'll be mad if you found out he threw it on the floor yet again.

He looks around, checking to see anything missing or different just in case someone broke in. But who would clean up if they're here to steal, he thoughts.

Mark then walks towards the bathroom to check, nothing there too so he walks back the bedroom. Just when he was about to go outside, you jumped out of your hiding spot to surprise him

"SURPRISE!"

"WHAT THE F- OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE" you didn't even get the chance to walk towards him because he's already running to you. Picking you up in an embrace.

"Is this for real or am I dreaming?" you hear him mumble

You giggle, patting him on the back so he could put you down. "This is real silly. I'm really here" you tell him.

He grabs you by the face and kisses you. As his lips lands on yours, he knew this was really real. You're actually here with him.

You can feel him smile against your lips, tilting your head to the side to kiss him deeper. Too many days wish he was with you, now he's here and you're not going to let go that easily.

He walks backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. Landing on it gently with you still in his arms. You straddle his legs while the two of you get lost in each others kisses.

"Okay okay wait a sec" you giggle, pushing your lover away gently. Mark follows your lips though, kissing you a few more times before he lets you go but not too far.

"When did you get here?" he asks you

"Today, Johnny picked me up at the airport so I could surprise you" you tell him, your hands intertwine around his shoulders.

"I could've come and pick you up" he pouts.

Oh your sweet sweet boy.

You smile at him, rubbing your nose against his. Feeling like you're on cloud nine now that you're back together.

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise" you tell him, speaking of surprise you can't wait to see his reaction once you tell him your news.

"How long are you staying? I can take a few days off so we can go out" he tells you excitedly.

For you he would do just about anything. He can put his world on pause, stop everything for you.

"About that..."

"What? You can't stay that long?" he asks, already feeling sad but he tries not to let you see it.

"Actually, I'm not gonna go back" you tell him, not sure how to break the news to him either

"Huh?"

"Surprise number 2 I guess, I wanted to tell you for months now but I waited until everything is settled. So yeah. I'm here to stay, that is if you're looking for a roommate?" you ask

Mark didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, your words still processing in his mind.

"You mean you're staying here, with me ? Here? and you're not going to fly back? You're staying with me?"

You can't help but laugh lightly at him, pulling him closer once again to kiss him

"I'm gonna stay right here" you whisper, looking straight into his eyes.

"But what about your work? your friends? I can't ask you to leave your life there"

"Baby you're not asking me, I want to. I have friends here too, I can call my friends there and we can visit them. Plus you're my bestfriend. As for work, it just so happened they were looking for someone to relocate here to Korea. It was like fate wanted me to be here"

"Are you sure? I don't want you to give up everything, I don't mind the flights-"

"You do, I do. We both do. We just never said it outloud because we didn't want to be sad, but all I can think of when you're not around is how much I want to be with you. To be honest it's harder for me to be there than moving here where I know I could be with you"

He looks at you, trying to find the words to say

"Are you really really sure?" he asks again

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't. So you're stuck with me, for good" you tease a smile out of him

"It's hard for me too. It's the hardest when I'm so tired and I come back here and all I can think of is how much I want to come home to you. Every flight away from you was never easy"

"I know"

"So I guess this is your anniversary present?" he jokingly asks, you get off of his lap to stand up.

"It'll be hard to top this one" you joke

"I can just ask you to marry me" he says ever so casually, not missing how your cheeks reddened. You hit him lightly making your boyfriend laugh

"Hey, that's not fair"

"You're the one who's stuck me, you know I'm never letting you go now?"

"Good, cause I'm not going anywhere. Here's to 7 more years"

He smile at you before standing up to hug you again,

As you stare at each other eyes you can't help but feel this warm sensation in your chest. You really are home.

"I read somewhere that our cells change every 7 years or so" you mumble, he hums waiting for you to continue

"It's been 7 years since we first met, and until now I still feel the same way about you. I want every cell in my body to know what it feels like to love you, I want it to never forget how warm and lovely it feels it be in love with you. 7 years from now, 14 years and until the last cycle of this life, I want all of me to love all of you"

He stares at you, soaking each word coming out of your lips like a spell enchanting him. Making him fall even deeper in love with you.

"You know they say love isn't easy, but loving you is easy. It's like it's the only thing my heart and soul was made for. Every thought in my head, awake or even in my dreams, is always you" he tells you.

You can feel the tears starting to build up from too much happiness you're feeling right now.

"Wanna hear something crazy?" you mumble

"Do tell" he chuckles

"If you ask me to marry you right now, I'd say yes"

He smiles at you before closing the distance once again, like he just sealed a promise. Speaking a silent vow to make that come true, maybe tonight or tomorrow or 7 days/months from now. All he knows is he will live this life with you.

[arduouslove]

Loving You isn't Hard to Learn 06

genres: hybrid, romance, found family, slow burn(ish) series rating: mature (mentions of/references to death and abuse. eventual smut) chapter warnings (may contain spoilers): mentions of death. accusations of drugging/roofie-ing. descriptions of injury to the face. the reader character cooks meat; if you don't eat meat, please think of it as them just cooking it for other people. relationship(s): ot7 x female reader

In the middle of what many would call nowhere, a sign glows bright yellow. Old, unmaintained, and on its last legs, the letter e flickers for a few seconds before going dark. H aven’s Door Motel, it now reads.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

The floor is cold when you wake up on it, though not as cold as it could be, so you must've been sleeping on the floor for at least a couple hours. As you sit up, you try to get on your knees, but find your legs tangled up in half of a throw blanket. You grumble, touching one hand to the side of your head, where you had to have laid directly on the floor rather than the throw pillow you can see pushed under the coffee table. Okay, you're definitely not telling Hoseok your head kind of hurts. He's already enough of a worrywart. Speaking of...

Looking up at the couch, you see Hoseok's sleeping face smushed against the cushion, his hair ruffled all over and his mouth slightly open. Upon closer inspection, a small wet spot of drool has grown on the couch cushion directly under his mouth. You grimace at that but quickly shake the split second of disgust away. It's just saliva; it'll wash out just fine.

You untangle yourself from the blanket, and when you stand up, you drape it over Hoseok's sleeping form as quietly as you can. Yawning, you head to the kitchen, first filling your kettle and turning it on, then moving to the other side of the counter and unplugging your phone from the wall. As the screen flicks on, you see a missed call from Lee Minhyuk from only a few minutes ago, and a text from him that followed soon after.

It seems I forgot to leave one last thing to you. I found it in our storage this morning. I'll be in my office all day if you'd like to come and pick it up. Otherwise, please let me know by phone call.

As professional as always, this guy. Glancing over at the microwave, you take note that it's only 8:56AM, which isn't that early for someone like him, but still. Lee Minhyuk is punctual, you'll give him that. Well, you suppose if you head out soon, you could get back before ten, depending on what it is Minhyuk forgot to give you. Some paperwork, maybe. He did say before that Mr. Jung had liquidated everything he owned other than the motel... You wonder what it could be.

Not wanting to wake your two house guests up, you stop the kettle before it can beep to signal that it's boiled and pour the hot water over a tea bag in a to-go mug to let it steep while you get changed. You sneak on tip-toes back to your room, and you move your hand as deftly as possible on your bedroom doorknob, focusing on your feet as you step in and close the door behind you. Bee-lining to your dresser, you tug off your pyjamas and pull on some fresh clothes as quietly as you can.

But when you turn around, Jimin is sitting up in your bed and looking at you with a frown.

"Oh my gosh!" You jump and pat a hand over your heart, taking a sharp breath in at the sudden sight of him. He barely reacts, just raising one of his eyebrows at you, his bottom half still snug under the comforter. "How long were you just sitting there?"

Eyes still half closed, Jimin says, "Long enough."

"Oh. Well..." Embarrassment trickles along your veins knowing he watched you trying to quietly sneak in. He looks too tired and uninterested to care about the fact that you changed right in front of him, though. There goes your confidence in your own sex appeal. "...Did you sleep okay?"

"It was fine." His words come out short and curt, and you can't quite pinpoint why, but you get a weird feeling as you try not to narrow your eyes. He flips the covers off himself and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, using his hands at his sides to push himself off and stand. His eyes dart around your room. "Where are my clothes?"

You blink. "Oh. They're in a hamper in the bathroom. I was planning on putting them through the wash and then making something to eat." Of course, stopping by Lee Minhyuk's office threw a tiny wrench in those plans, but still, you weren't expecting this from Jimin as soon as he woke up. Whatever this is.

Just as he tries to exit your bedroom, you move to stand between him and the door, your hand held up. Jimin stops himself before either of you touch, and he frowns slightly when you go, "Whoa, hold on. What's the hurry?"

"I have to go back."

"Go back?" you echo, confusion tinged in your voice, but Jimin doesn't bother. He gently puts a hand on your wrist and moves you out of the way, which you let him do all too easily in your stupor. Go back? To the streets? Blinking and shaking yourself out of it, you turn to follow him into the bathroom, where you watch him find his dirty clothes at the top of the pile in the hamper. "What do you mean?"

Jimin doesn't look at you as he focuses on unbuttoning his pyjama top. "She's looking for me."

Sputtering, you completely miss the fact that Jimin is taking off his clothes right in front of you. "Rayoung?"

Even though he doesn't answer you, the determined look in his eyes tells you you're right. He slips on his old clothes and pushes past you again.

"She is?" You struggle to follow both him and his words, stepping into the main living space after him. "How do you know--"

Jimin whips around, and you almost bump into him, but your feet screech to a halt directly in front of him. He glares at you with those piercing brown eyes. "She loves me," he says.

Your mouth opens and closes like those dogs in kids movies they'd feed peanut butter to so it'd look like they were talking. You can't say what you think, no, that would be too harsh. You can't just say outright that someone who loves him wouldn't leave him to live miserably like he did. But, what can you say? You don't want him to go back to where he was, even if what he thinks of Rayoung is true... not when you have something within likeness of a solution so close to falling in your grasp. You were planning on going to the motel this evening with Hoseok -- and, ideally, Jimin -- to scope out the building better and finally figure out what the hell you're doing.

"Jimin..." You hold yourself back from reaching out to him, knowing that your touch might be the last thing he wants. "At least eat something..."

"I'm not hungry," he tells you, and with the conviction he puts behind the words, you almost believe him.

"C'mon, at least a bite--"

"No!"

Jimin's sudden volume startles you, and your eyes go wide as he pushes both hands against you, causing you both to stumble back a step. You stare at your feet for half a second before looking back up at him, a breath of a laugh tainted with disbelief puffing past your lips. "What--"

"Don't come any closer!" He wraps his arms around his chest and scrunches his eyes shut. "I don't know what was in that fucking tea, but you can't keep me here." His back turns to you. "Rayoung was right. I can't trust anyone."

Completely thrown off, you straighten up slowly, his words settling in your brain. "...Excuse me?"

Jimin says no more, simply standing there in the foyer with his back turned, shielding himself from... you.

Roused from his deep slumber, Hoseok appears next to you. His hair is tousled and pressed flat against the side of his head that he slept on, but the sight isn't as endearing as it would be if you weren't so baffled by what Jimin just said. Taking one step in front of you, Hoseok puts a hand on your arm before you've even realized you went to get closer to Jimin, one hand up and pointed at him.

"You--" Hoseok's firm grip on your arm stops you from getting far, and as he pulls you partway behind him and your shoulder bumps into his back, you lower your voice to a whisper. "You think I drugged you?"

With his head down low, Jimin still refuses to respond. His entire body trembles, fear coursing through him like rapids under his skin. Even you can see it.

But something fogs over your rationality.

"Are you serious right now? I didn't-- I would never--" You try to take a deep breath, but it gets stuck in your throat and only serves to fuel this ugly feeling inside your chest. "You're delusional."

Hoseok hushes out your name, a warning of sorts, or maybe something closer to a plea. You don't hear it past the ringing in your ears.

"And it's not because of anything in my fucking tea," you continue. "No, you know why you're delusional?"

Hesitantly, Jimin turns around half-way, his frowning profile causing that awful roiling in you to flare up.

"Because even though you've been living on the streets for months, starved enough to root through restaurant trash bins, abandoned by the very person who supposedly loves you--" Something flashes across Jimin's eyes, but you have no grasp of what it is. "--you still think she's coming back for you."

No one says anything for a second -- too long, and Hoseok's hand slides down your arm and gently wraps around your wrist. You tug it out of his grasp with a sharp inhale. "So let's just go," you say, walking to where you keep your car keys. The jingle-jangle as you pick up your keys is the only sound in the apartment aside from your footsteps. "I'll take you right now. Near Antonio's, right? She left you around there and that's where you think she'll go looking for you?"

Hoseok softly calls your name again, but you don't hear him. Jimin only follows you with angry eyes.

"I was on my way out anyway," you continue. With your hand already on the doorknob, you slip on your shoes. "So yeah, I have no problem with dropping you off on your own with nowhere to go." You pull the door towards you and step out, eyes still on your feet. "Where you have no sure way of getting food."

Jimin doesn't look at you as he puts on his shoes.

"Where Hybrid Services already know your face--"

Your words choke to a stop when you look down the hall towards the elevators. That damned fluorescent yellow armband you had no business caring about a couple days ago -- two of them -- appear in your sight just a few metres away, directly in front of the apartment-next-door's open entrance, where your neighbour to the right, Anne-Marie, is talking to the two officers.

Without uttering another sound, you push Jimin back inside your apartment as quickly and overtly as you can. Unfortunately, this means you achieve that by shoving your hand in Jimin's face, but your head isn't exactly in the right place to think about hiding-someone-away etiquette.

"Wha--?! Stop--!"

"Shh!" You make frantic eye contact with Hoseok while Jimin glares daggers at you. At this point, you know you can't just go back inside yourself; both the officers and your neighbour have probably seen you already. You keep your voice as quiet as you can, hoping the boys can still hear you with their weird hybrid powers. "Both of you, not a peep. Got it?"

You don't wait for either of them to answer before you grab the doorknob and swing the door shut in their faces. As soon as you look back down the hall, both officers, a man and a woman, and Anne-Marie are looking at you.

"Good morning," you greet with a slight bow, completely unsure of what to do or say next.

Would asking some sort of question be suspicious? Or would trying to walk by and ignoring them be even worse?

Either way, you have to get to the elevator...

Before you have to decide, (or maybe after you already should've, considering the awkward silence,) Anne-Marie waves you over with a slight frown. "Leaving so early today?"

"Ah..." You nod at her with a strained smile as you walk up to her and the officers, making sure to smile and nod at them too in that weird, you're not really part of this conversation but you're standing here so I'll try to include you sort of way. "Yes, I have some errands to run this morning."

Anne-Marie doesn't question you, thank goodness, and just gestures towards the officers. "Well you should hear them out before you go," she says. "Apparently there's a feral hybrid on the loose."

"Feral hybrid?"

You don't have to fake the initial look of concern that appears on your face, but the way you deepen your frown at the flyer one of the officers hands you is definitely for show.

"Yes," he confirms, face stiff and almost bored from repeating the words so many times to all the residents in the building already. "He ran away from a hybrid clinic in the city and was last spotted in this neighbourhood."

Anne-Marie nods along as he speaks and shakes her head when he points out the area the hybrid was spotted last night on a small map included in the flyer. "So close to home..." she mutters, which he ignores.

Continuing after him, the female officer speaks up. "We're doing rounds to make sure everyone living in the area is aware of the risks of a feral hybrid, as well as inform everyone of the proper procedure."

"Which is...?"

"Do not approach," the man tells you as your eyes finally focus in on the two pictures of the feral hybrid, one from the front and another of his profile. In both photos, he's smiling, eyes bright. "It's dangerous for regular citizens to attempt to capture feral hybrids. Leave it to the professionals and call Hybrid Services upon encounter."

He doesn't look so dangerous.

His smile is wide and almost boyish, like someone told him he was posing for a photo op rather than the strange hybrid-version of a mug shot it actually is. He holds up his name placard like it's an award he's proud of. "V," it reads, then a bunch of numbers underneath. His animal ears are perked straight up, and you can't tell what kind of ears they are in the grainy black-and-white pictures, not to mention how small they look compared to Hoseok's. Still, the deepness of his smile, the happiness in his eyes and the scrunch of his nose -- you're not scared at all.

You don't say any of that, though.

"I'll keep an eye out, thank you," you say with a polite smile. "What kind of hybrid is he?"

The two share a look, the female officer grimacing before she turns back to you. "That's unfortunately classified information."

"What? Why? Wouldn't it help us be safer and more prepared if we know what he looks like?" You turn to make eye contact with Anne-Marie, who drinks in your words and nods with a slight frown towards the officers, a finger propped concernedly on her chin.

The man sighs. "As much as I agree with you, these pictures are the only images any of us have to go off of. Even Hybrid Services hasn't been informed of his sub-species. It's private information belonging to the clinic, and legally, we don't need to have it to apprehend the hybrid."

"I see..."

After thanking them again and giving your due goodbyes, you do your best not to turn around and watch the officers as you wait for the elevator. You step into the elevator, and as your finger finds the button for the ground floor, you peak down the hall and let out a breath of relief. The officers seem to have skipped your door because you already spoke to them.

It would probably be suspicious to re-enter your apartment so soon while they're still patrolling your floor, you think. The last thing you need right now is Hybrid Services finding a reason to look into you.

And, maybe, you need a minute to yourself. Just to breathe.

You hadn't meant to snap at Jimin like that, it just... So much doesn't make sense to you. You've barely had Hoseok around for a few days, but you feel as though your friendship is something already. Maybe not something to be proud of, exactly, but it's something.

Jimin... you've known him for even less time, if you could even call that "knowing" him at all. And yet, you felt this strange surge of protectiveness over him.

You really hope that isn't part of the saviour thing Hoseok spoke of before...

Sighing into the empty elevator, you try not to think about the fact that it probably is, and instead focus on what is right in front of you. Your car keys are still in your hand, the shape imprinted into your palm from how hard your nerves had made you grip them between your fingers while you talked to the officers.

You take the coward's route and run away.

Lee Minhyuk's office building isn't that far in terms of distance, but the traffic around it is pure hell. It gives you much too much time alone with only your thoughts. You try to drown them out with whatever is on the radio, but even that can't seem to calm the disquiet within you. The more you think about the things you said, the more regret builds in your gut. What right did you have to say those things to Jimin? Sure, you think it's a fool's dream to believe this Rayoung girl is out there searching for him, but to purposefully shut him down like that? To crush that dream just because you got offended by emotions he was completely valid in feeling? Just because he's been scarred by humans before and you happen to be one? It's not his fault that he thought you might've drugged him, it's a product of--

"Ah, you're here."

Blinking, you realize that your body went on autopilot and walked you up to Lee Minhyuk's office without you knowing, and you watch his back as he goes to sit at his desk.

"Yeah I... got your text," you say dazedly, unsure of anything else you could possibly say in the moment.

"Well, it's good that you came. I wouldn't want you to go without this." Minhyuk holds his hand out, and you step closer to his desk to let him drop whatever the thing he forgot is in your awaiting palm.

A single key stares up at you, attached by a small ring to a simple metal tag.

Silver Meadows Columbarium, it reads.

"Oh."

Moving the key to your fingers, you flip over the tag and read lot C 258 on the back. You'd never heard of Silver Meadows Columbarium before. Never needed to...

"I believe Mr Jung set up his..." Minhyuk pauses as he mulls over his word choice. "...accommodations before he passed."

You can't help but ask, "Just him? No family, or...?"

Your words trail off, both of you knowing that Mr Jung left you as his sole beneficiary. If he had family, he didn't leave them anything. Not even the location of his remains.

Minhyuk shakes his head, and you frown.

"He prepared for his own death all by himself?"

Your concern is met with a small, understanding smile on Minhyuk's face. "Well, he may have done the paperwork himself, but he wasn't alone. He had you."

"But I--" You hardly knew Mr Jung.

"He brought you up more than once," Minhyuk says, making you close your mouth and blink stupidly at him. At your silence, he continues. "He came to my office a few times to sign the papers and whatnot, and he mentioned you every time. Always said you're the only one who laughs at his jokes."

"They're funny!"

Your own response jars you a bit. The last time you said that, you thought Mr Jung was alive.

Minhyuk only smiles again, softly. "He was happy you thought so."

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words, but I it wasn't hard to tell. Don't get too caught up in the fact that Jung didn't have blood relatives he wanted to include in his will. Evidently--" He gestures to you. "--he had a family of sorts."

Except that you weren't it. You couldn't be, right?

A seedling plants itself in the forefront of your mind.

A seedling named Hoseok.

That's must be it -- Mr Jung wanted to leave his estate to Hoseok, but couldn't figure out how to, legally. Hybrids probably can't even have bank accounts, much less accept inheritance, which is why Mr Jung defaulted to you. He trusted you to help Hoseok start up Heaven's Door as the legal owner of the land it's built on.

In his letter, he'd said it's that it's you, whatever that means.

You look down at the key in your hand, taking a deep breath in. It might not be the key to Heaven's Door Motel, but you clutch it in your fingers, and as you step out of Lee Minhyuk's office, you make a silent promise to Mr Jung.

You'll get Heaven's Door up and running.

And you'll do a damn good job of it too.

=

When you return to your apartment, you have a brown paper bag of fresh pastries in your hand and a heavy something in your chest. You tried to figure out what you want to say to the two hybrids in your place on your way home, but it's hard. You feel like all you keep doing is messing up. Now, you even ran off without a word after seeing the Hybrid Services officers, which had to have freaked Hoseok out.

You grimace as you twist the doorknob. Less than an hour ago, you'd resolved yourself to running Heaven's Door with everything you've got, but are you really the right person for the job?

When you enter, you go to call out for Hoseok, but you freeze with your mouth partially open. The guys stand ramrod straight in front of you, Hoseok with a slight smile and Jimin with a hesitant clench of his jaw, arms crossed. You gape at them for a couple seconds until Hoseok frowns at Jimin and jabs his elbow into his side.

"Ow! What the--"

"Don't you have something to say?" Hoseok prompts through his teeth, a harsh grit to the question.

Jimin huffs, his arms shifting in front of his chest, hands holding his own arms a little tighter. He meets your eyes. "I'm--"

"Wait." You hold up a hand to stop him, not missing the confusion that flashes across Hoseok's face. Something like panic reflects in Jimin's eyes when he sneaks a glance at Hoseok, but you don't acknowledge it. "Let's talk." With the hand still holding the paper bag, you gesture towards the couch. "Have a seat. Both of you."

Jimin doesn't move until Hoseok does, following silently while Hoseok watches you out of the corner of his eye as he sits down.

You set the pastries on the kitchen table before making your way to them, stopping in front of the couch and chewing over your thoughts. Jimin regards you with a half-frown, brows knitted in apparent distrust. You can't really blame him.

If your ears were better, you might've heard the slight gasp Hoseok let out when you dropped to your knees, bent down, and pressed your forehead to your hands, which are now flat on the floor. You bow in front of them, let out a breath, and raise your head once you gather your thoughts, putting your hands respectfully on your lap. "I'm sorry," you say. "I fucked up."

Hoseok's ears twitch, dipping, and he scoots forward on the cushion, about to say something, but you don't let him.

"Jimin, I want to apologize for this morning. I had no right to react the way I did." You look at Jimin, but you can't read his face. "It's not your fault if humans have hurt you enough to make you think we're all the same. People can be... horrible. I wish things were different, but... I want you to know that I will never intentionally hurt you--" Your eyes meet Hoseok's. "--either of you. I'm not going to punish you. I'm not going to force or coerce you into anything you don't want to do. I don't want to be the kind of human you're afraid of."

Hoseok shakes his head. "I'm not afraid--"

"I can't promise I won't fuck up again," you say, wincing as you realize you've spoken over him, but when he doesn't speak up again, you continue. "I honestly feel like a walking disaster with how many times I've fucked up, and it's only been a couple days. Sometimes I speak before I think, and I really need to work on that. I'm sorry."

You don't know when you started staring into your lap, but you let out a long breath, and only after that do you slowly look up at the two hybrids. They both wear blank expressions, and it makes you want to shrink back in on yourself. "I just--"

"I lied," Jimin blurts out, and you face him, eyes slightly widening.

"...Lied? About what?"

Sighing, Jimin casts a glance at Hoseok, who nods determinedly. He fidgets with his hands, looking at them rather than meeting your eyes. "I guess, technically, Rayoung isn't looking for me right now," he mumbles. "But she will. As soon as she breaks up with her stupid tool boyfriend."

"Oh." You blink at Jimin. "Well, um... You're welcome to stay with us. Until then, I mean."

Jimin's lips form into a contemplative pout, but he says nothing.

You scratch the back of your neck. Is there a good way to approach this? "We could, um... let her know somehow? That you're with us."

You eye Hoseok, who's hopefully in the same boat for you to be saying we. He wasn't exactly Jimin's biggest fan last night, weird possessiveness over pyjama sets aside. Now, though, you see that even he can tell this Rayoung girl is bad news. Still, Jimin's ties to her seem to run deep, and you know it's nowhere near simple to tell someone a person they love isn't as great as they thought.

Jimin takes a deep breath in, his shoulders scrunching up as his body tenses and relaxes. "Can I... think about it?"

"Of course!" You perk up at the idea of him even considering your offer after the way you snapped this morning, and you point at the brown paper bag on the table. "Do you want to have breakfast while you think?"

While Jimin marks a straight line to the kitchen, Hoseok holds his hand out for you before you even move to get up. You take it, and he uses his other hand to gently grasp your elbow and lift you onto your feet. He doesn't let go right away, instead holding both your hands and whispering, "You shouldn't have gone out alone." He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. "You're still concussed."

The proximity combined with his concern for you causes heat to stir in your chest. It's uncomfortable and foreign, so you try to force it down, smiling and letting out a chuckle that screams casual. You hope. "I can hold my own. Besides, I think I'm all better; right as rain up here." You pull one of your hands out of his tender hold and curl it into a fist, knocking on your cranium like a door. Except, the impact makes your brain swish around in your skull like gargled fluoride. "Whoa-- shit."

You sway, tipping the direction you knocked your own head into. Hoseok keeps you standing, but he doesn't like it. "You just proved my point."

"Listen--"

"From now on, no going off on your own," he says, and from his tone, there's no point in a rebuttal.

You roll your eyes, and, whoa, does the room always spin when you do that? Still, even wooziness can't stopper your sarcasm. "Protective much?"

"Kind of my job description."

"I thought I was your bodyguard," you tease, and he chuckles, his seriousness evaporating with the sound.

"As if--"

"You're dumb."

You and Hoseok both turn towards the kitchen, where Jimin stands next to the table with a half eaten pastry in his mouth. Ignoring the glare he's under from Hoseok, which you don't notice, he speaks around the pastry. "Only a dumb person would go out on their own in your condition."

Even though you're pretty sure he should be on the same side as Jimin on this, Hoseok sneers at him, the slightest of growls rumbling in his throat.

Jimin holds up a hand, mockingly. "Easy, pup."

"I'm older than you, punk!"

You can't help it; you laugh. Jimin is all over the place, accusing you of atrocities one second and talking to you and Hoseok like you're long-time friends the next. The two hybrids cease their bickering at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay, okay." You take a breath to stop the giggles threatening to break past your lips. "New temporary house rule: no one should go off on their own unless they have to."

Jimin raises a brow. "No one?"

"Ideally." You nod. "Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk about. When the Hybrid Services officers were here before, they were telling everyone there's a feral hybrid in the area. The entire neighbourhood is going to be on alert-- I don't know how kindly they'll take to finding any unregistered or, uh, stray hybrids if they run into either of you alone."

Nodding along, Hoseok rubs his chin with his thumb. "Makes sense."

"They know what the hybrid looks like, but we don't know how much they actually care about the picture. Who knows if they'd just nab any male hybrid off the street," you say. "It's probably best to play it safe; at least while we're still in the neighbourhood."

"What do you mean, 'still in the neighbourhood'?" Jimin asks, curious.

You smack your own forehead and ignore the way Hoseok immediately brings his hands up like you're going to knock yourself over any second now. "Right, uh... We're kind of..." Bringing up a hand, you gesture between yourself and Hoseok. "...prospective business owners? Is that--? No, we're, uh...starting up a motel? But, like, for hybrids?"

Hoseok is decidedly unhelpful with explaining what Heaven's Door is meant to be, staying silent and just making a face as you botch it.

"Anyway, it might be safer if we head out there sooner rather than later if the neighbourhood is getting paranoid over stray hybrids. It's outside of the city, and Hybrid Services doesn't do patrols out there. I was thinking to move once I'd figured more shit out, but I didn't think the whole 'feral hybrid' thing would happen today, and I definitely didn't foresee meeting you." Not that anything that's happened to you in the last few days could've been foreseen, either. You smile at Jimin. "But hey, at least you were a pleasant surprise."

"Didn't I threaten to kill you?."

You shrug. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"And your guard dog attacked me."

"After you attacked her!" Hoseok argues.

Clicking his tongue, Jimin gives his head a nod. "Point taken."

"Anyhow," you continue on. "While you think about what you wanna do, I'd like you to come with us. Of course, you're free to refuse. I still have two-ish weeks of rent paid for this place, so you could stay here, but..." You share a look with Hoseok, then return your eyes to Jimin.

"...I'd be alone?" he finishes for you.

"I guess I'd just feel better if you're with us."

Jimin seems to absorb your words, but he stays silent for a few seconds. He tosses the last bite of the pastry into his mouth, chewing quietly and brushing his hands together to get rid of the leftover crumbs. He takes a breath. "I guess I sort of owe you for the food and the bed I slept in last night... The least I can do is make you feel better."

Your cheeks make way for a beaming smile.

"Just while I think about it."

You school yourself. "Right! Right," you say, clearing your throat of any enthusiasm that might've gotten clogged in there. "Just while you're thinking about it. Nothing's set in stone."

=

Either Hoseok calls shotgun outside of your hearing range, or Jimin silently sits in the backseat of your car out of some unfounded sense of regularity. He doesn't speak a word as you drive, just watches the world pass by through the side window. You can't really see him in the rear view mirror, and most of your focus is on the road, but there are a few moments where you catch his fingers scratching at his arms before he flexes his hands and stops. You're reminded of the red, bumpy skin you saw on his arms. Now, it's covered by his shirt and jacket, both of which you convinced him to let you wash before you all left your apartment.

"I don't think this is the right way..." Hoseok says, squinting at the street signs as you drive out of the inner city.

"Yeah, uh." You'd looked up the address to Silver Meadows before you left, and it's practically on the other side of the city as Heaven's Door. "There's somewhere I wanted to go first. You know how I left this morning?"

Hoseok nods.

"Well, it wasn't just to throw a tantrum, if that's what you were thinking."

"I thought maybe you were trying to get those Hybrid Services officers to think you were going somewhere, so they'd think no one was in your apartment," Hoseok says, making your eyebrows rise on your forehead.

"Wow, you're pretty intuitive, aren't you?" Your eyes dart to the backseat, but you can't see Jimin's face since he's sitting right behind you. "Were you guys able to hear that whole conversation in the hallway?"

Jimin scoffs, something sarcastic in the simple sound, while Hoseok nods again. "It's weird how even they don't know the species of the feral hybrid," he says. "Without that information, they'd go after any stray hybrid they encounter -- not that they weren't doing that already."

"But they might treat any stray like they're feral and dangerous," you finish the thought process for him, and when you meet his eyes, he sports a grim expression. You roll your shoulders back, sighing. "It's a good enough reason to stay on our toes, but hopefully we won't run into any trouble outside of my neighbourhood..."

And, hopefully, the feral hybrid doesn't get found by anyone less than civil. The cheerful face of that hybrid flashes across your mind, and you wonder about his circumstances. What makes a hybrid go feral, anyway? What made him run away from the hybrid clinic? How much of the information the officers gave you is a stretching of the truth?

"So where did you go?" Hoseok asks when you make another unfamiliar turn.

"Lee Minhyuk texted me -- he was Mr Jung's estate lawyer." You add that in to give Jimin some context, but you're not sure if he's even listening. "He forgot to give me the key for Mr Jung's niche."

Hoseok's brows furrow as he echoes you. "Niche?"

"It's what they call the individual sections in a columbarium," you explain, not too informed yourself, but you know enough. You take Hoseok's silence as him not filling the gaps quite yet. "Mr Jung's urn is being kept in one. Lot C, niche 258, at Silver Meadows Columbarium."

"Oh." Hoseok doesn't exactly slump in his seat, but you see the way his shoulders sag just the slightest. "He was cremated?"

You nod, eyes still on the road. "Yeah... I hadn't thought about it much. I'd assumed his family was dealing with all the..." Breathing out a long exhale through your nose, you try to think of the right words. (And come up with nothing.) "...well, that kind of stuff. But apparently I'm the only one with the key."

"Mr Jung never talked about any family..." Hoseok mumbles.

A road sign ahead reads Silver Meadows, and you slow down to turn into the lot.

"You're not bringing flowers?"

You turn your head at Jimin's sudden question, surprised since he was quiet the whole drive. He meets your eyes.

"You're visiting a grave, and you didn't bring flowers?" he asks, arms crossed.

"Oh." You look downward. "I hadn't thought about that..."

Jimin doesn't say anything, and you've run out of words yourself. Does it make sense to go back to buy some? You think about Mr Jung, and far above wanting to go get flowers for him now, you wish you could've brought him one back then. When he could see it.

You find a parking spot and switch off the engine.

"It's okay," Hoseok says before any of you exit the car. He's not looking at you, though. "We can bring flowers next time."

You watch him step out of the car, and as he does, he pulls his collar out of his pocket and fastens it around his neck, clasping the metal ends together before he shuts the car door behind him. Before you'd left the apartment, you told him to bring it, but you forgot about it during the drive.

"Oh, right. Jimin." You twist in your seat and reach into your bag, finding the red velvet choker you'd stuffed in there earlier. You've never really worn it since someone gave it to you however long ago, and you just hastily grabbed it from your room before you all left the apartment. You hold it out for him. "Wear this for now. It's not technically a collar, but... no one will be looking too closely. I hope."

Jimin frowns, but he takes the choker. "Can't I just stay in the car?"

You don't want to pressure him, but you can't help the grimace that crosses your face. "I feel safer together..."

"Fine," he huffs, bringing his hands up to fasten the choker. "You're lucky this is cute."

By the time you both catch up to Hoseok, he's already found the directions to lot C. He walks silently, and when he finds niche 258, you and Jimin hang a bit back, giving him a moment.

This section of the columbarium is indoors, and the walls and niches seem to be white marble, or made to look like white marble. Whichever it is, it feels a bit... cold.

Mr Jung's niche is empty, save for the black urn inside. Jimin was probably right -- some flowers would at least bring some life to the space.

Hoseok stands in front of the niche, which is embedded in the wall at around the height of his chest. His arms hang limp at his sides. You step up beside him, and you take his hand, gently, bringing it up so you can push the key into his palm.

"I think he meant to give this to you." And everything else, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. That's a lot to put on someone all at once.

You would know.

Hoseok holds his hand in front of him, staring at the key. He looks up at you and meets your eyes with his watery ones. "You think so?"

"Of course I do." You put a hand on Hoseok's shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth over his coat. "You said Mr Jung never talked about any family, right? That's because you were his family."

Sniffling, Hoseok bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling as he breaks eye contact and returns to looking at Mr Jung's niche. "I... I wish he wasn't this far away. He made it so much harder to visit."

"Hey..." Gently, you use your hand on his shoulder to turn Hoseok toward you, then put both your hands on his arms and give him a reassuring squeeze. A tear threatens to roll down his cheek, but you reach up at thumb it away. "I know you probably knew Mr Jung better than I did, but... something in me thinks he'd want to say..." You turn your head to look at the niche, smile, and shake your head. "He's not in there." Bringing a hand up, you softly poke the pad of your pointer finger between Hoseok's eyebrows. "He's in here." You move to his chest and poke at where his heart should be. "And here." Finally, you take both his hands, a bit awkward with the one still holding the key, and hold them between you. "And that's what matters, right?"

Hoseok nods, but his face crumples up, and he tucks it into your neck. You wrap your arms around him just as his embrace you tight. Over his shoulder, you glance at Jimin, who quickly looks away, but you know he was watching. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, suddenly very interested in his worn out shoes.

"But we can still visit, right?" Hoseok mumbles into your skin, bringing your attention back to him.

"Of course. And next time, we'll bring flowers."

=

As you slide into one of the parking spots in front of Heaven's Door, it occurs to you that this is the first time you're seeing it in the daylight. All of its mediocre glory. The outer walls are a faded yellow, with supporting pillars and railings on the second floor landing which were once white. The doors to the individual rooms are a nice dark green that matches the roofing, but you have to admit they've seen better days. Still, you can feel the potential the old building blooms in your chest.

"Not too bad, hey?" you say to Jimin, who's leaning forward between the driver and passenger seats to peer out the windshield at the place.

He sniffs. "It's no Plaza Hotel."

"You've been?"

"No, I've seen Home Alone 2."

Chuckling, you pull your car key out of the ignition and exit the car. You put your hands on your hips, inhaling a big, exaggerated breath as you take in the motel. Hoseok walks over and stands next to you, arms crossed.

"Well," you say. "It might be a bit of a fixer-upper, but that's nothing a couple of fixer-uppers like us can't handle, right?" You bump your shoulder into Hoseok, who smiles at you and bumps back with his hip. You stumble a bit, but Jimin's hand on your back stops you from swaying too hard. When you take your eyes off your feet, he meets your eyes with a plain expression.

"You guys are disgustingly optimistic."

A hand on his shoulder, you grin. "You just named one of my best traits!"

=

The move into Heaven's Door is by no means smooth, but you can't say it's not something you expected.

The first thing you notice is the broken window in the convenience store under the motel lobby, which you'd missed that first night in the dark. Hoseok sheepishly admits that he'd had to break in to eat the snack food inside. You don't push it -- that void of time between losing Mr Jung and meeting you isn't a topic you think is worth diving into if it's going to bring Hoseok back to that time. The window won't be cheap, but if you don't put a custom decal on it like the shattered one on the ground, it might not be as expensive.

Secondly, Hoseok leads you and Jimin to the master room you remember Mr Jung mentioning in his letter, and you realize you'd only seen the motel from one side. Behind the lobby, which has a lot of that same forest green as the doors outside, Hoseok shows you the half of the building you had no idea about before. An entire branch extends behind the lobby, about the same length as the front, but instead of the entrances to each room facing outside like the ones you saw before, there are doors mirroring each other on both sides of a hallway. Immediately to the right is the master room, but at the end of the hallway seems to be a common area with couches and coffee tables, and two walls lined with a counter and cabinets. Hoseok tells you it's the same downstairs, except the end of the hall is a kitchen and dining area. It reminds you of a college dorm.

If anyone stayed in the rooms you saw out front, you don't think they'd even notice this half of the building.

The master room is smaller than your apartment, but it has its own half-kitchen and en suite bathroom with a pretty nice shower. Hoseok explains to you that most of Mr Jung's time and focus went into building and upgrading the interior of Heaven's Door, which is why it has its less than shiny exterior.

You can tell Hoseok was staying in the master room up until you... kidnapped(?) him.

"This is probably the nicest room in the motel, huh?" Jimin posits, walking inside with his hands in his pants pockets. He's wearing the clothes he met you in, now washed but no less worn down.

You nod. "Probably. We're a bit far from the city, so it would make sense for the owner to just live here."

"Dibs." Jimin flops down face first into the bed.

Hoseok crosses his arms. "Yah."

As you fail to hide your laughter behind your hand, Jimin squirms in the bed, twisting himself so he lies on his back. He stretches his arms and legs out like a sea star. "Smells too much like dog here, though."

While Hoseok sneers, you say, "Probably because this is Hoseok's room. You and I can take the rooms next door and across the hall."

"Why would I wanna be next door to you?" Jimin closes his eyes and interlocks is fingers behind his head, fully relaxing into the bed.

You let out an affronted scoff. Your hand goes up to your chest, right over your heart even though Jimin can't see it. "Um, my amazing company and charming personality?"

"Pass."

As you and Jimin go through this back-and-forth, you miss the way Hoseok's face fell when you said you'd be in a different room. His disheartened expression goes unnoticed, and when you stand up, proclaiming there's a lot of work to be done, he smiles at you with all the sunshine he can muster.

You're none the wiser.

=

Aside from the horrors (the mere idea of business management, the building maintenance, the absolute atrocity that is dealing with plumbing, the phone calls, etc, etc,) at least it's fun to print keys. Hoseok apparently never figured the system out because Mr Jung took care of getting it installed, but half an hour on the computer, and you manage to print a key for both yourself and Jimin. He chooses the room across from the master, while you're right next to it.

Hoseok insists on him and Jimin carrying all the food you'd brought inside, but to appease your need to take part, he lets you carry one item for each trip from your car to the common kitchen area. (You find this a little patronizing, but it is admittedly nice to be doted on by them both, even if Jimin's still pretending he doesn't care.)

((He takes a bag you were reaching for, despite already having both his hands full.))

Much of your things are still back at your apartment, but you have time to bring them over. The first day is mostly about getting Hoseok and Jimin out of dodge -- you can worry about your own problems later. You spend the afternoon sitting in the lobby, poring over the paperwork left there and googling motel business 4 dummies like your life depends on it. Hoseok, who'd been cleaning up his room and taking care of the broken glass outside (and inside, unfortunately) the convenience store, forces you to take a break in the form of helping him make dinner.

During dinner, unprompted, Jimin tells you he's still thinking.

It hasn't slipped by you, of course, that Jimin's stay with you is conditional and, lest you hope otherwise, temporary.

But when he says that, staring into his food rather than looking at you, a tiny smile makes it's way onto your face,

"Take all the time you need."

=

On the third night, you wake up to soft knocks on your door. You have no expectations because your brain is in the process of trying to dissect the dream you'd just been ripped out of, but seeing Hoseok on the other side of your door still isn't something you were prepared for. He's wearing the new, new pyjamas you'd bought for him in a sparse shopping trip you'd all gone on the second day, despite him saying he didn't care that much about Jimin wearing the other ones.

You go to say his name, but he just brings a finger up to his lips in a silent shush, and with his other hand, he gently takes your hand and leads you down the hall into the master room.

Nothing in your body wants to fight it, so you let him bring you right up to the bed. He practically pushes you onto it, but the way he pulls the warm comforter over you defies any ill intent. When he settles in on the other side of the bed, his breath puffs against your cheek. He hasn't really scented you since the day you met Jimin; you've been near each other almost constantly since, so there was really no reason to.

You remember him telling you it's about separation, but also not. He never did tell you more about it.

In your sleep-ridden haze, you shift to your side. Hoseok is on his side too, rather close, and his eyes are closed, but you know he can't have fallen asleep so fast. Gently, you bring a hand to the back of his head, careful, as always, not to touch his dingo ears. You pull him closer ever so slowly. If he resists at all, you'll let go.

Hoseok lets out a shaking breath. He wraps both arms around you and tugs you closer, his face pressing itself against your neck. Eyes still closed, he squeezes you close. It's warm.

That's right, you think.

He’s a strong little pup, but he hates being alone.

How did you manage to forget that?

=

If Jimin has anything to say about the fact that you've started to retire to the master room at the end of the day, he doesn't vocalize it. Hoseok never brings it up, either. He's hardly touchy during the daytime, keeping his hands to himself, especially in front of Jimin. Yet, when night comes, he pulls you to bed like he's done it his entire life and keeps his arms around you until you fall asleep and wake up to find him all tangled up in the sheets.

Jimin either hasn't noticed, or, as you suspect, he doesn't care.

He'll often say he's "still thinking about it". You're not quite sure how to respond to it every time, so now you just smile and nod, sometimes reminding him that the choice is still his.

One night, you find him in the common area, sitting on a couch and watching a muted cartoon on the tv you'd connected to your Netflix account the day before. The subtitles aren't even on, and when he turns at the sound of your footsteps, you see the red of his eyes, and the shining tracks on his cheeks.

There's still a lot you don't know about Jimin.

Rayoung. Her boyfriend. His red contacts and why he wore them.

"It's freezing in here," is all he says as he wipes his cheeks with his sleeve. "You should get the heating system checked."

You sit down next to him, neither of you looking at each other. "Feels normal to me."

The cartoon isn't one you recognize, but it looks like it could be fun if you knew what anyone was saying.

For a while, you and Jimin say nothing. He sits next to you, and you next to him. At some point, he shifts just the slightest bit closer so your shoulders brush against each other. That's as far as he goes for your body heat.

"Do you get cold easily?" you eventually whisper.

"Mhmm."

"Is that a snake thing?"

Jimin shakes his head, slowly, the late hour finally getting to him. "Some reptile hybrids are like that, some aren't. There aren't many of us, so people don't really know why. At least... that's what he told me."

He. You decide not to dig into that. Jimin will tell you if he wants to.

"Your scales... the skin around them seemed irritated."

"...Itchy..." Jimin's head falls to your shoulder. He doesn't snuggle in, but he rests there. "I had a cream for it..."

"We should buy some," you say.

"It's expensive... You shouldn't buy it if I'm going to leave soon..."

Though his words cause a muted ache in your heart, you don't stew on it. That was always the case.

"You can take it with you."

Jimin doesn't respond, asleep on your shoulder.

You're not sure how much time passes, but later, you hear light, shuffling footsteps behind you, and you turn your head towards the sound, careful not to jostle the slumbering Jimin on your shoulder. Hoseok stands there, eyes half closed but on you nonetheless.

"You left," he mumbles, swaying slightly like he's struggling to stay both awake and upright.

You give him a small smile, lit only by the tv that's still playing that cartoon you don't know the name of. "I didn't go very far."

"Come back to bed?"

Gently, you lift a hand and gesture at Jimin. "Can we bring him back to his, first?"

=

When you're sent the invoice for the window repair, you realize (not for the first time) this won't be easy.

You didn't think it'd be a walk in the park, of course not, but you've never really had to worry about the cost of running a business before. Now, you look at the numbers, and you just can't wrap your head around how it'll all work. Mr Jung left you a considerable amount, yes, but... will it be enough? You can't imagine the motel is in any high level of traffic area for travellers. There are quite a few campsites around in the surrounding forest, but that's about it. How many customers would it take monthly to support the motel? How much has to or even can be sacrificed before any income is made?

You've already spent so much on keeping you, Hoseok, and Jimin alive and warm for the past week. It's normal, you suppose, but you've never supported two dependants before, and the fact that you're currently unemployed doesn't settle the heavy feeling in your chest at all. You're draining your savings while not making any money in the meantime.

A safe haven for hybrids...

...who can't pay rent.

Maybe Mr Jung was older and more senile than you thought.

You shake your head and rub your hands over your face, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. First, you gotta apologize to Mr Jung for disrespecting the dead. You might be cynical, but he had a dream. A really good and nice dream. Secondly, you scold yourself for thinking what you did about hybrids. Of course they can't pay rent. They were born into a system that actively discourages their financial (and pretty much every other kind of) autonomy. They can't pay for anything because of humans.

Still, you don't know how long you can keep running Heaven's Door on your inheritance alone. You haven't even opened yet -- how much will it cost to run for a month? Three? A year?

"Do the numbers change if you sigh hard enough?"

You turn in your swivel chair to glare at Jimin, who's sitting in the chair next to you with one leg folded up to his chest, foot propped up on the seat. He doesn't return your gaze, enraptured by the match-three game he's playing on your phone, which he's been going at rather consistently for the past two days. You don't really have a job for him right now, and aside from the tv, he doesn't have much to take up his time. You'd offered to grab the contents of your bookshelf back at home for him, but he'd casually refused, telling you he'd take a look next time you make the trip, but not to go out of your way.

"Maybe they will," you taunt back, which goes just as ignored as your glare. "I better sigh harder to test it out."

You tilt your head, looking at your phone in his hand. "Should I get you guys phones...?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Jimin's eyes glance up, and he finally acknowledges you. He doesn't need to say it. He does anyway.

"I'm still thinking."

Curling your lips in, you nod, turning back to the computer and hovering your hands over the mouse and keyboard even though you have no plans on what to do with them. "Right. Right..."

Thankfully, Hoseok chooses that awkward moment to walk into the lobby. "You should take a break," he says. "How is your head feeling?"

"It's fine, doc." You roll your eyes, smiling. "Just as fine as I said it was yesterday."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

You shake your head. "The doctor said they're for headaches. They're just painkillers -- the few times my head has hurt, the pain went away by the time I remembered I could take them."

Jimin lowers your phone and gives you a look you can't quite decipher. It's not positive; you know that at least. "You're still getting headaches?"

"Only itty-bitty ones," you try to placate them.

"How long has it been since you fell?"

You almost forgot you lied to Jimin about how you got your concussion. By the looks of Hoseok's guilty expression, though, you're not sure if you regret it. You don't want him to feel responsible, but talking about it -- whether or not Jimin knows -- still seems to remind him of what he did. Where you put the blame doesn't matter to him. He still thinks it's his fault.

"Uhh... a little over a week?" you answer, keeping a careful eye on Hoseok. "Maybe eight or nine days."

Jimin frowns. "That can't be good, right?"

"The doctor said to go back to the hospital if the symptoms last over two weeks." Concern laced in his features, Hoseok crosses his arms.

You nod along. "I'll put the date on my calendar, okay? I'm sure I'll be fine by then."

"You better not play it down when the time comes," Hoseok warns.

"Yes sir," you joke.

Hoseok takes in a sharp breath, shoulders scrunching up for half a second before he forces them to relax. A small huff of a laugh escapes Jimin's nose, and you look at him in confusion, but his eyes are on Hoseok, something playful and teasing in them. Jimin mouths something to Hoseok, which you can't read.

Hoseok grumbles and tightens the arms crossed in front of him. "Shut up."

"No fair," you whine. "You guys already have inside jokes?"

Jimin just laughs harder while Hoseok gives him a death glare and says, "It doesn't count as an inside joke if I don't find it funny."

"Don't worry," Jimin teases through a smirk. "I find it funny enough for the both of us!"

You can't help but smile at the ever-growing amity between the two hybrids, which is admittedly playful in the biting way, but it still makes you happy that they're somewhat getting along.

=

"We should celebrate," you tell the boys one day.

"Celebrate what?" Jimin questions, hands stuffed in his coat pocket and shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

You'd gone around the back of the motel and found a paved, patio-like area, complete with five wooden picnic tables, propane patio heaters, and an old-looking but (probably) functional barbecue, but Jimin isn't exactly a fan of the cool breeze flowing through the air.

You lift the lid of the barbecue, examining the charred grates of the grill. "Well, I dunno, but it'd be a shame not to use this before it gets too cold out."

"Too late," Jimin mumbles. His lips are hidden behind the front of his coat, which he's ducked half his face into.

Hoseok ignores Jimin, nodding at your idea. "A barbecue night would be nice."

"How are you on the grill?" you ask him.

"I'm better at prepping."

You chuckle. "So basically, not good?"

"Not good," he echoes with a smile.

After sharing some giggles, you look at the barbecue again. "I'm sure I could figure this out."

"I'm going back inside," Jimin tells you both, already walking away.

"C'mon!" you call after him. "It'll be fun!"

=

Although you're in a different store now, near the edge of the city closer to the motel, the pet/hybrid aisle hosts a pretty similar collection to the store near your apartment. You pull another plain, black collar off the hook on the shelf, which matches the one currently sitting around Hoseok's neck.

He's not paying attention at all, as far as you know, instead hunched over the pushbar of the shopping cart he insisted on pushing for you, poring over the grocery list you'd written on a memo pad for tonight's "celebration".

In your mind, you've started calling it your "new friends party :D", emoticon included, but you haven't worded that out loud to either of the boys. Hoseok would surely laugh at the childishness of the name, even if he'd politely try to stifle it, and you know Jimin would only remind you that his relationship to you and Hoseok is temporary.

Mood killer, you think to Jimin, although it's the hypothetical version of him.

The real Jimin is looking at the array of collars on the shelf like you asked him to, and you step up next to him.

"What do you think?"

Jimin frowns, deep in thought. "They're all ugly."

Okay, maybe not that deep.

"Ouch," you chuckle, fingers toying with the black silk in your hand. "You don't have to wear one all the time -- just while we're in public spaces like this."

Grumbling, Jimin stuffs both his hands in his coat pockets. "In public... that's when I wanna look good."

"Okay, okay." You pat a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we can find one you like online, or something."

"Doesn't this one work?" Jimin points at his neck, fingers ghosting over the soft velvet of your red choker.

You tilt your head. "I guess... Probably."

The tags for collars have to be bought and customized separately anyway. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to put Jimin's on your choker, though attaching the tag might not be as simple as the store-bought collars. Manageable, though, you're sure.

"If you're done being picky, we should get going. The frozen meat will be rotten by the time we get to the car," Hoseok says, making Jimin roll his eyes and stick his tongue out at him.

You clap your hands together. "Ooh! We should get ice cream!"

When you bring all the groceries to the counter, you notice that Jimin keeps his head down, avoiding the eyes of the person ringing everything up. This isn't new -- Jimin seems to not like making eye contact with anyone but you or Hoseok.

He'd tossed the red contacts after one of them had an intimate meet and greet with your bedroom floor, but you can tell he doesn't like being without them. It's awful, you think, how long he wore those fake red eyes just because his owner... what, enjoyed the idea of owning a deadly hybrid?

The... exoticism?

You shiver.

On the cusp of winter time, with Jimin in a couple layers, you wouldn't even know he's a hybrid if you weren't paying attention. As far as you know, his only hybrid-defining trait is his scales, and the only ones you can see right now are on his neck. They'd easily go unnoticed to the everyday passerby.

"Your total is--"

The cashier's voice startles you, and all you can do is shake your head when they ask if you have their points reward card.

Before heading back to the motel, you make a quick stop at your apartment, telling the boys that you're just grabbing some more of your clothes and that they can wait in the car. You do grab some clothes, but you also pick up a few of your favourite books. Hopefully the boys will be able to find some entertainment in them. Recently, you discovered a recreation room in the motel, complete with a couple of exercise machines and a pool table. With how preoccupied you are with all this motel business stuff, though, you haven't had the time to play a round of pool or even think about exercising. Maybe the boys have been in there, but it seems like Hoseok is almost always somewhere around you, still weary of your condition.

It's sort of fair, you think. Dizzy spells still hit you sometimes.

Jimin, too, often sticks around somewhere nearby. Maybe it's because he likes scrolling through your phone and doesn't want to just take it and leave whatever room you're in.

Which brings you to the real reason you stopped by your apartment. You walk up to the mailboxes and pull out your key, smiling when you open your locker and find the packages you were expecting.

It's a bit of a pricey expense -- at least, for how you used to budget your life before it flipped on its head -- but you think it's worth the money. A simple phone for each of the boys, a new family plan to save on the phone bills, and a specialty reptilian hybrid eczema cream. You hope it's the right one for Jimin. You haven't seen his irritated skin since that shower due to the chilly weather, but you still catch him scratching his arms over his clothes from time to time.

You're sure if you told Jimin you wanted to buy the cream for him, he would've refused. The phone, too.

"Took you long enough," Jimin says when you dip back into the driver's seat of your car.

You chuckle. "I missed you too, Mochi."

He huffs at the nickname and crosses his arms, then turns his head to stare out the window. You don't see his faint smile.

=

"It's freezing," Jimin complains through chattering teeth, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and shoulders scrunched up practically to his ears.

You can't hold back a little laugh. "I told you, you could either help me out here with the grill, help Hoseok with prepping everything inside, or run the raw food from the kitchen to out here." Raising an eyebrow at him, you gesture towards your gloved hands and the food you're flipping on the grill with metal tongs. It is chilly out, especially since the sun set, but you're wrapped up in your own jacket, and the fire from the grill is keeping your cheeks warm. It probably feels colder to Jimin, though. "You wanna trade with me?"

He gives you a flat look. "You're kidding."

"Thought so. You wanna trade with Hoseok?"

Cringing, Jimin shakes his head. "I hate touching raw meat."

"Well, there's our answer then," you say. "Was that the last of it?"

He nods, another shiver rippling through him. It's almost endearing how red his cheeks are turning, but you know he really can't stand the cold.

"Okay, go inside and warm up. I should be done cooking everything in ten or fifteen minutes. Bring this plate in--" You point at a foil-wrapped plate of the food you've already cooked. "I can bring the rest inside once I'm finished."

Jimin's eyes widen slightly. "I thought you wanted to eat out here?" He looks at one of the picnic tables.

"Nah." You shrug. "It's way too cold for me, and the food will cool down too fast."

Elated by this news, Jimin smiles and bounces on his feet when he grabs the plate and runs it inside.

"And help Hoseok clean up the kitchen!" you yell out right before the door shuts behind him.

Truthfully, you did want to eat outside for the celebration, but it's more important to you that Jimin is comfortable and happy. After all, he's one of your new friends, and that's the whole point of tonight. You smile at the thought, excited to gift the boys their new cell phones after dinner.

Flipping some of the last pieces of meat on the grill, you hum to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hand reach for the plate you have set to the side for the cooked food. It tentatively grabs one of the slices of meat and pulls it off the plate, which you let out a chuckle at.

"What, you couldn't wait a couple more minute--"

You choke to a stop, though, when you look up and see neither Hoseok nor Jimin.

Dark eyes meet yours for less than a moment before swiftly turning downward. The man stumbles back a step, but he freezes in almost the same way you do. Except, instead of his jaw dropping open like yours does, he pauses mid-chew, the frisked meat still in between his teeth.

That's not what makes your breath hitch, though.

Even under the blackened sky, you can see the bruises.

A dark, deep purple sits boldly under is left eye, the surrounding skin a sickening blend of yellow and green that winds up all the way to his brow. His chin sports another bruise in a similar state, like the blows had been a couple days ago and the skin has gone through only the first stages of healing. Although his face is grimy with sweat and dirt, you can see crusted blood just at his hairline before his black hair hides anything else. You can tell his lip was completely busted at some point, marred with dark, dried blood that's been split over and over again and given no chance to heal.

Even his stance looks like he's in pain. Like he's trying to make himself look smaller.

You swallow the shock down, the words not coming out. "I..."

He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice. Both of his hands shoot up, palms flat and facing you. "Sorry-- I'm sorry," he mumbles and winces, like it hurts to speak. His voice is scratchy and rasping.

He backs up further while you try to find something to say, something to do, but before you can do anything, he runs off the patio and disappears into the treeline, a clear limp in his movement.

"Wait!" you call out, but he's gone.

Maybe it was the injuries that made you want to go after him. Maybe it was the way he held himself, like he didn't want to be in his own body. Maybe it was the way his voice trembled, or the fact that he definitely wasn't wearing enough for the temperature outside.

Maybe it was all that combined, but most of all, it was the pointed black ears you saw on top of his head.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

[perceivedregret]

just a (long) snippet of pt 19 of so it goes, my vampire!steve au where blood sucking happens and human!eddie kinda maybe sorta doesn't mind it much. part one and the link to my ao3 in my pinned if youre interested ♡

Steve shifts uncomfortably, feeling heavy, like he’s drugged out on Hawthorne. Since he passed the threshold, something has changed in the air, but he can't figure out what, just knows he would do well to get out of here before he does something stupid. He shakes his head, hopes it'll clear it. It doesn't, so he sighs. “Well, thanks but uh, I should–”

“Do you want a smoke?” Eddie interrupts, his hands procuring a box of cigarettes from his pocket.

The thing is, Steve really shouldn’t stay.

He shouldn’t stay because his gums are starting to ache and he has a migraine behind his eyes beginning to form. He should be getting in his car, he should be driving away, should be getting back to putting as much space as possible between himself and Eddie Munson, the man he’s supposed to hate, the same man he's kissed while sipping his blood.

Except he doesn’t and instead he mutters: “Sure, I could use a smoke.” Eddie grins a languid thing, one that sends a shot of ice down Steve's spine. And with that smile he continues to surprise Steve. He doesn't go out the front door as Steve expected. Instead, he shuts the door and walks past Steve, past the kitchen, and back into a room. Steve follows and comes up short when he realizes this is his room.

Eddie is already lighting his smoke when he turns, catching Steve stuck at the edge of his door. He exhales, smoke spreading across the room.

“Am I supposed to invite you into every room?” he asks, sitting along the edge of his bed, offering Steve a butt from his case. Steve struggles with a breath as he crosses the threshold and takes the offered cig.

“No, no,” Steve says, lowering his head as Eddie offers a light, thanking him silently once the cooling burn of smoke fills his lungs. He exhales, adds to the billow of rising smoke. “I just thought we’d take it outside, or something.”

“Well, I hope 'or something' is good enough. I um." Eddie shifts, moves until he's as close to the edge as he can be without being off his bed, leg bouncing almost erratically. He clears his throat. "I actually wanted to talk to you. To ask you some things," Eddie mumbles. He takes another inhale, exhales in the general direction of Steve. Steve suddenly really regrets agreeing to stay, the smoke doing barely anything to dampen the smell of his blood on his breath.

“What um… sure, what's up?” Steve stutters, nearly fumbling his smoke.

"How did you die?" Eddie asks, relaxing back into his bed, hair sprawled out in a halo around his head.

Steve takes a sharp inhale of smoke as he remembers the night. "A girl named Heather. The same one who turned Chrissy, she uh, snapped my neck. It's her go to move, I guess."

"Is that how..." Eddie doesn't finish it but Steve knows he's talking about Chrissy.

"Yeah."

"Hm. Did it hurt?"

Steve sways his head as he considers how to answer, knows he's really asking for Chrissy. "Kinda, yes? But also, no. It was quick. It's like I went to sleep and had that dream where it feels like you're falling out of bed and suddenly it's like all the air was knocked out of my lungs when I first woke up. After that, the first breath, it's always the hardest when you come back."

"Hardest when you come back after that? What do you mean, do you have to die more than once to turn?"

Steve laughs as he scratches absentmindedly along his cheek. "No no, not to turn, but we can still technically die again after we've changed. I've uhh, had my neck snapped a few times in the past to get, uh, subdued. Hurts like a bitch for second but again, it's over so quick it kinda doesn't matter. We can't die that easily. We can only be killed by fire of the sun, a stake to the chest, decap-" Steve motions towards his head with a click of his teeth, "-or having our hearts ripped out."

Eddie whistles, smoke escaping his lips with the sound. "Ouch."

"Yeah." Steve takes another drag, adding to the fog that surrounds them. "So, what else do you want to know?"

Eddie takes a deep breath and Steve tenses as he says-

“You kissed me and I want to know why.”

A swallow gets caught in Steve’s throat, his mouth suddenly dry as his attention snaps back from the haze that threatens to take him. “What?”

Eddie waves him off. “Okay, ya know what, we can skip that for now. Did you mean to hit me?”

Steve scoffs, taking a step forward. “Of course not.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“It was an accident,” Steve nearly shouts. “I didn’t mean to, man, but you cornered me.”

Eddie hums, shifting his weight as he seems to build himself up to ask- “Was the kiss also an accident?”

“No.” Steve says it faster than his mind can process the question. No? What do you mean no, Harrington? he thinks to himself. “I mean yes. I mean, I- I don’t know. No?”

“Then why’d you do it?”

Steve balks. “You were bleeding, alright, and I'm a vampire! You were bleeding and it was an accident. You cornered me, okay and well, I– you, you.” Steve snaps his fingers as the first coherent thought forms. “Okay, well, why did you follow me in there to begin with? None of that would have happened if you didn’t go in there.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie mutters quietly, his cigarette already nearing its end.

“What do you mean you don’t know, you’re the entire reason it happened.” Steve’s own cig sits half abandoned between his fingers, his mind and heart racing. Why did I stay? he thinks.

“I don’t know.” Eddie stands up and Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. The air has shifted yet again. He didn’t realize how close in proximity he was to Eddie until he stood and their noses nearly touched. Eddie puts out the butt of his cigarette and takes Steve’s, his officially abandoned.

“What, man, do I scare you?” Eddie muses, a quirk of his lips that makes his dimples show.

“A little,” Steve breathes, surprised by his own honesty. It surprises Eddie as well, if his raised eyebrows are anything to go by. “I mean, no, it's.... I'm not really scared of you, just like. I guess scared of what I can do to you, if that makes sense.”

“Like what,” Eddie breathes, stepping closer, closer again, close enough to crowd Steve’s space. Steve swallows on nothing as he stumbles into a dresser, fingers grasped tightly along the edges of it. Eddie continues to crowd in, until he’s too close. "What are you scared of doing to me?” Eddie murmurs, eyes flashing down once to Steve’s lips.

The air is suffocating.

“You should be the one scared of me,” Steve says quietly, seems to have unconsciously leaned forward because he’s suddenly breathing the same air as Eddie, his scent, his entire being. Ever since he’s had a taste he’s been craving him and right now it's the hardest it's ever been to resist.

Why didn’t I leave, he thinks again. His throat is on fire, burning as the scent of Eddie’s blood fills his head. His thinks about his last drink, which was Eddie, and how sweet and this side of intoxicating it had been.

How Eddie's lips felt while he drank his blood.

“What are you doing,” Steve breathes, Eddie's hands heavy searing brands on his waist.

“I don’t know.” Eddie breathes back, and suddenly he’s kissing Steve Harrington....

read the rest and the start on my ao3

[legendofmorons]

I love your crush(ed) oneshot with Twilight and damn, I know the feeling :') Would it be alright to request a part 2 for it! Where Twilight discovers that his feelings for the reader aren't just best friend like and it takes a drastic or angsty moment with reader to realise this and the reader was finally trying to move on as it's been a while now until he then spills his feels and then he kisses the reader like lowkey steamy steamy ;) but not too much and they're both happy and everyone is like gosh damn finally-

I've never done an ask before so I hope this is right! And thank you for reading this if you do!

-🌙anon!

Crush(ed) part 2 (Twilight)

(Did Y'all team up? /j. Happy to oblige though, stubborn ranch man and stubborn reader go brrrr.)

Pairing: Twilight x reader

Rating: G

Summary: After you and Twilight are given a task, you two finally sort out your feelings. Also, Legend wins a red rupee.

Warnings: none

Other: Please let me know if I missed anything

--------

You've spent probably a month without any real interactions between you and Twilight. Time has even stopped trying to help you two make up.

At least that's over. There's a special awfulness when the Team Adults (TM) try to make you play nice.

Why not wear a get along t-shirt?

Obviously, you don't have a get along shirt, but still.

Sky has become a much closer friend, and the sympathetic smile he gives to your latest assignment does nothing to ease your problems.

You're supposed to go on a week long trek to Hateno to get some stuff from Purah. And of course, your travel buddy is Twilight.

So here you are, packing your bags up after breakfast. Trying to ignore the meaningful looks Time and Warriors give you.

"You're sure you're gonna be okay? I can come with." Sky gives a reassuring smile, holding our your rolled up sleep roll.

"I'll be fine, Sky. What Twilight gonna do, bite me?"

"You're right. It'll be fine."

"Ready to head out?" Twilight asks as he comes up to you from the right.

"I'm ready when you are." You say, pulling your travel pack onto your shoulders. Your heart dosen’t skip a beat at all. (It does but that's unrelated.)

You're definitely almost over the rancher.

(You most certainly are not even close to over him. But you like to live in denial. Fake it til you make it and all.)

"Alright. Let's go."

You follow Twilight, the worn paths dusty but easy to traverse.

You look around, enjoying the nature from Wild's hyrule. The way nature has recovered since the calamity is amazing.

-------

Twilight sits across from you at the campfire. You haven't said a whole ten words to him since you guys headed out.

He watches you stare into the fire.

It's like you're ignoring him. Or trying to distance yourself.

Well, now, wait a minute - he can't remember the last time you two had a real conversation. He thought he was just imagining things.

But you really are ignoring him.

You've been spending more time with Sky.

He's seen you two cuddling - which his fine. Twilight has no claim on your time and cuddling dosen’t have to mean romance!

Why does Twilight care if you and Sky are cuddling in a romantic way?

Why does he hope it's not romantic?

It's not like he has a crush.

He isn't in love with you.

Oh.

Oh.

This is not a good time to realize this. Obviously you don't want anything to do with him.

Which is weird. A month or so ago, you two were close!

Did he do something?

He can't remember anything he might have done.

"Stop staring." You say, looking at him with an even expression.

"Oh. I didn't mean-"

"It's fine. Just uncomfortable."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." You tell him, though the edge in your voice says that it is not fine.

"I really didn't mean to stare. I-"

"I said it's fine!" You snap, something in you breaking.

"(Y/n)?" He asks, caution in his voice.

"You just can't leave me alone?! I'm doing my best! I really am! And you just go and fuck it all up by being - you!" You are almost yelling, face heated up and fire in your eyes.

Twilight used to revel in the fire, watching you take down monsters.

He never thought it'd be turned towards him... especially not for being himself or being polite.

Ouch.

"I'm sorry." He says, looking to the ground.

"I wish your Zelda had come with you. I wouldn't have gotten my hopes up." Your voice is bitter.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Did I do something?"

"Other than being you? No. It's all me and my stupid fucking heart."

What?

It's you? And your heart?

That almost sounds like you have feelings for him. But that can't be it.

Right?

Twilight gives you the most incredulous look. "Are you tryin' to tell me somethin'?"

His accent is more noticeable, hope and anxiety mixing into an almost overwhelming cocktail of emotion.

You can't help it. You've never really been able to lie to Twilight. The thought makes your heart squeeze.

"I'm head over heels for you! Okay?! But I know you like Zelda, so you don't have to let me down easy."

Twilight stares at you, making sure he heard you right.

You're head over heels for him?

Oh.

Wait-

"You think I like Zelda?" He asks, sounding thoroughly flabbergasted.

"I heard you talking about it! One of the others asked you about your princess and you said that of course you liked her."

"As a friend and a leader." Twilight says firmly, but not at all mad.

"But-

"Zelda is a friend, and my home's princess. But there's nothing romantic with her."

"Oh."

"(Y/n), darlin' it's you. You're the one I want to be with."

"What?"

"Sweetheart, I'm beyond smitten. I'm in love with you."

"Oh."

"Oh." Twilight says with a smile. "Is the Zelda thing why you were ignoring me?"

"Yeah... I was trying to get over you."

"Well... I'm glad you didn't."

"Me too. I wish I'd just talked to you though."

"Well... what's done is done. We can only move forward."

"Can we do that together? Like - you're my boyfriend and we're going forward together?" You ask.

You sound a little anxious.

But lack of communication has only caused issues. So you figure airing on the side of too clear is better.

"I'd like that, a lot."

It dawns on you, that Time's plan worked. It's almost annoying.

But you're thankful.

"If you'll let me I'd love to take you to dinner in Hateno."

"I'd like that a lot."

When you go to sleep that night, you and Twi are side by side with linked pinkies. It's very cute.

(And if Wild or Wind were here they'd take pictures.)

The rest of the trip to Hateno is much more pleasant. Highlights include laughing at eachother's jokes, finding and chasing a glowing blue rabbit - deer thing, and also fireflies.

(Re: lightning bugs.)

You come to realize there isn't a restaurant there, unless you count the inn. So instead you buy dinner from the inn and take it to go.

After all, what's better than a picnic surrounded by fireflies?

-------

The only one awake when you and Twilight (your boyfriend!!!) Return to camp is Sky. He must be on watch then, based on how the sun is starting to slowly creeping up onto the sky again.

You and Twilight hold hands, warmth seeping from your palms right into your heart.

"Hey guys." Sky says with a friendly wave.

"Hey Sky." You give him a warm smile.

You're glad to see your friend.

You're glad to see all of the boys here, but for right now, you're focused on the one that's awake.

"You two seem to have made up."

The gentle squeeze Twilight gives your hand send giddy butterflies right to your brain.

"You could say that." Twilight says with a smile.

"Oh?" Sky asks.

"We're dating." You answer easily.

"That's amazing, I'm so happy for you!" Sky gives a grin.

"Finally." Legend glimpse from his bed roll. "Wild owes me that red ruppee."

"You made a bet on us?" You ask, incredulous as you look to the vet.

"I won a bet."

"Legend." Sky says with a sigh, "Come on."

"Why are y'all being loud?" Time groans as he wakes up.

"Legend made a bet on us." Twilight says, both annoyed and touched.

After all, Legend bet on ypu two either getting together or making up. He isn't sure which one. But still.

"Legend." Time says with a sigh, still laying on his back.

"What? All I did was make an investment!"

"That's so much better." Ypu say with an eye roll.

But the smile Twilight gives you before he presses a kiss to your cheek is worth all of it.

[rinrinp42]

for your snippet prompts: hmm would love to see your take on some clone wars-era QuinObi, platonic or not! perhaps some early days commiserating between Alpha and Quinlan about their shared idiot??

(hope you're doing well, I know we haven’t talked in a long while 🧡)

(I'm doing good and hope you are too!)

!!!  This prompt made me go all gooey!  Have a list of times Obi-Wan made Quinlan's heart race ( though I didn't get Alpha-17 and Quinlan commiserating).  Also Tholme/T’raa Saa and Mace and his tree mom will have to be pried from my cold dead hands so Quinlan gets Little Brother privileges and literally only calls Mace by his first name.

Quinlan nearly dropped the stuffed tooka the younger Initiate had dropped when the Cretchmaster brought in cookies.  The toy was infused with bleak, scary visions. As if it was trying to purge them from the redhead.  Quinlan's heart races with the images, though there's too many and they're too fragmented to tell a story.   They're just the Temple but dark and strange armored figures moving through it.  But… but they're scary, like when his Aunt made him grip the locket…

Quinlan makes up his mind.  He's going to make sure that this Initiate has something good and fun to distract him.  It'll be good for the redhead, he's sure of that.

Quinlan's mouth is dry and his heart races as a wide-eyed Obi-Wan pulled his jacket out of Quinlan's grip.  He had just wanted to stop Obi-Wan and welcome him back.  Master Tholme had said Obi-Wan had stayed behind to help settle some kids away from the fighting on Melida/Daan but what Quinlan just saw was…

Obi-Wan hadn't been hiding with a bunch of Younglings away from the fighting.  He had been leading an army of Younglings to fight against their parents and aunts and uncles and and and 

And Quinlan needs to tell Master Tholme because Obi-Wan needs help.

He may also need Quinlan to not just be standing there like an idiot.  So Quinlan slapped a smile on his face that he could only hope Obi-Wan didn't see through and threw his arms around the other Padawan, babbling about some weird twist to the mission he and Master Tholme had been on.

Quinlan lost his breath as Obi-Wan twisted them around and down onto the mat, pinning Quinlan.

The other Senior Padawan smirked down at him, somehow keeping Quinlan in place even though the Kiffer was heavier.

“Hello there,” he said and Quinlan's heart raced.

Oh.

Quinlan ran through the underbelly of Taris, following the Forcebond he and Obi-Wan shared.  His heart tried to lodge itself in his throat as it raced faster than the exercise should make it.  This was supposed to be an easy mission, and a sneaky way of celebrating that brat Anakin turning 13.  Mace had even helped arrange it!  How did Obi-Wan find some weirdo doctor trying to recreate long gone rakghoul plague?

Small gods, Quinlan hoped he would get there in time to help Obi-Wan.  Aayla and Anakin were ransacking the so-called doctor’s upper level apartment while Quinlan was on Obi-Wan Rescue duty.

Which he would not fail at (he hadn't failed at any of his self appointed Obi-Wan duties yet and had no plans on ever doing so).

Quinlan had been on a time sensitive undercover mission on the other side of the galaxy when the Clone Wars started.  It was another 3 months before he had finished up and could head back.  Mace had immediately sent him to Obi-Wan.  Quinlan's experience with undercover work meant he wouldn't end up with a battalion but Mace wanted him to work with some of Obi-Wan’s boys.  There were a few shaping up to be good at the Intelligence aspect (something niggled at the thought of the Clones and Quinlan figured a squad to back him up would help sus it out).

He wanted to see how the Clones reacted before they knew he was a Jedi.  Especially if Obi-Wan was going to spend the war surrounded by them.  Luckily there was a battle that had finished recently so they weren't in the camp where it would have been harder to get close without revealing himself as a Jedi.  He slipped through the bombed out town, pausing now and then to watch the Clones.  And then he found Obi-Wan.

Quinlan paused in the shadow of a building as the sunset bathed Obi-Wan in color and his heart raced at how beautiful he was.

The Force must have been laughing at him and his constant adoration as it gave no warning before the larger clone slide between them staring down Quinlan with a contained sort of menace.  Kriff but he didn't want to fight one of Obi-Wan's boys.

“Alpha-17, please do be careful, Quinlan is a rather talented fighter.”

“Ah Obes, thank you,” he couldn't help answering with a shit-eating grin.

Though his face was hidden, Quinlan was sure the Clone narrowed his eyes at him.  Eh, deserved.

Quinlan stepped into the medbay, heart racing as his eyes settled on Obi-Wan.  His redhead idiot was in the bacta tank but was there and alive.  He had nearly sobbed when he felt the Bond click back into place.  Waltz and Swing had both been startled to see it, but Obi-Wan had assigned the squad to him with such care that they rallied quickly to make the plans to get to Obi-Wan.

“You're still alive?” a voice asked from a bed.

Quinlan looked away from Obi-Wan to see Alpha-17 on a bed.  But very much alive.

“Su cuy’gar,” Quinlan responded cheerfully.  He liked the ornery bastard and was glad both had survived.

Alpha-17 snorted at him and shifted on the bed.  Quinlan didn't think the clone would be back on the front lines.  But there might be something he could do…

Once Obi-Wan was out of the bacta, Quinlan would run it past the two of them.  They needed a paranoid bastard on Kamino to look into… well all of it.

Quinlan's hand slid into Obi-Wan's as the peace treaty was signed by interim Chancellor Mon Motha.  It turns out not having both sides be controlled by a Sith made peace easier to accomplish.  Who knew!

Obi-Wan squeezed his hand and Quinlan's heart raced.  Small gods but he loved him.