#<- click here and find all my unhinged screaming about them <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohmy7hearts · 4 years ago

Text

spring gale

Summary: Spring means new beginnings but a gale (a storm more like?) in the name of Shinazugawa Sanemi blows your plans out and throw your once peaceful life into the winds.

Pairings: Shinazugawa Sanemi x Fem!Reader // future Shinazugawa Genya x SisterFigure!Reader

A/N: this,,, is v impromptu. i literally got out of my bed bc it has been bugging me with how little sanemi fanfics there are, esp modern aus. tbh, there have been plenty of fics brewing in my mind and tell me if there’s any you’d be interested in and maybe i will return from my hiatus hah:

- zhongli modern au: adepti babies being your adopted children and navigating parenthood

- unknown pairing as of now but travelers being your kids so transporting yourself into the world to find them after 500+ years of not returning home

- etc involving atsumu, diluc, childe but if you have any requests, feel free to drop it in and maybe i’ll consider them

Warnings: Some cursing (I mean it’s Sanemi lolol)

“Shinazugawa-san?” Sanemi glanced up, his hands continued packing away his things into the bag, an eyebrow raised. You smiled, hands folded over the other in front of you, as you continued to speak after gaining his attention. “When would you be free to do the project?”

He sighed, throwing his bag over his shoulder, while making his way out of the classroom - tone and body language showing his disinterest in the conversation. “We can just do it in class.”

You jogged to get into step next to him, “Well, it is for the bare minimum. I’m sure we can do much better than that.” You observed his side profile to see if any emotion could give way to what he was thinking. You frowned, frustration creeping up on you, “I understand that we’re not each other’s first choice in partners but that’s not an excuse to not do our best.”

“Are grades and studying the only thing in that airhead of yours?” His eyes flit towards yours for a moment before returning its gaze forward. “I don’t fucking have as much free time as you.”

You stopped following him. A bolt of anger and disbelief had your mouth dropping and hands curling into shaking fists. You scoffed, voice raising with each word, “I believe you need this more than me, Shinazugawa-san. Unless you want to continue being a pain in everyone’s ass and eventually not even graduate, then be my guest.”

He swiveled towards you. You flinched reactively. He faltered, face momentarily flitting from anger to surprise back to annoyance the moment his eyes scanned you. One step, two steps. He was in your space, breathing in and out to you, with his strikingly cold eyes and thin eyebrows furrowed. “Say that again, I dare you.”

You closed your eyes before releasing a deep sigh, muscles easing from the hold of your anger. “We don’t have to do it after school or on the weekends if you are that occupied. We can do it before school or during our breaks and even before our clubs start.” You grabbed one of his wrist, turning his palm upwards, shoving the crumpled paper with your number into it while fixating your glare on him throughout. You refuse to back down but you will be the bigger person. Forcing his hand to a close, you narrowed your eyes for good measure while trying to control the smirk from overtaking your face when his frown further deepened in distaste. Taking a step back, your hands returned to the usual folded stance, you forced an amicable smile to replace the smirk - although you have a feeling that he could still see the smirk from how his eye twitched, “Of course, it’s really up to you, Shinazugawa-san.”

Turning on your heel, you headed back to the classroom with your head held high and a full-blown smirk on your face while your peers watched with stolen glances and whispers behind hands or under breaths. The clicking of his tongue echoed in the corridor and in your head all the way back to the classroom.

“Ara, ara, should you really do that (Y/N)-chan?” Shinobu greeted you by your desk, eyes filled with mirth from the free entertainment.

You laughed airily, eyes not meeting hers but focused on clearing the messy table, “I wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t that difficult.”

“Not many survive Sanemi you know?” Shinobu followed you to the student council room. “One must use their life's worth of luck to crawl out from his bad side.”

A bark of a laugh escaped you from her exaggeration. “Shinobu-chan ~ I thought you wanted to get into medicine and not theatrics?”

Her eyes met yours, a smirk tugging on her lips, eyes shifting precariously into ones when she knew something the other party doesn’t and in this case that was you. A shiver ran down your spine. You’ve been in the spot only a few times but still a few too many with most of them ending up jerking your view of the world down a path you’ve never considered. You gulped, hands itching and playing with themselves.

“Did you not hear about how he got into a fight with some university boys down at the park?” She leaped into your space, voice dropping into a whisper in your ear yet head tilted to ensure a front seat view to your reaction. “He came out with a couple of scratches and bruises but…” Her small hands encircled your upper arm. Your eyes dropping to them before returning to her face - surprised to witness your shock colouring your face white as it was reflected in those big eyes of hers. “The boys said to be much bigger than he is, had to go to the hospital.” Her smile bordering on unhinged glee, she drawled, “They were so scared they didn’t sue him.”

She immediately returned to her spot beside you, a foot away, while her shoulders and arms lifted in a form of a shrug nonchalantly. “Apparently, when questioned, the boys said something about them being the ones out of line and they have worked things out.”

Being close friends with Shinobu and Mitsuri meant that you were privy to the latest gossip and news but you always took it with a grain of salt seeing firsthand how some things were purposefully voided or added for the enjoyment of teenagers. You smiled unsurely, “that’s just a rumour Shinobu-chan.”

She pouted, invisible to those who didn't know her well enough or who weren’t keen enough, “You can ask Akio. He was a witness.”

Your eyes widened before blinking in incredulity. “What.”

She giggled, hand raising in a wave before dashing down the corridor. “Do share with me if he tells you more!”

It took you a few seconds to regain your bearings, even a shake of your head to rid the mental image of Sanemi punching away on people bigger than him for his amusement. He was by no means a small person shown clearly with the muscles seen even through the school uniform - a testament to his achievements as one of the greatest fighters in the taekwondo club despite his lacklustre participation of actually attending said club practices - but there were certainly bigger and taller people in your school, much less university.

“Hashimoto-san!” You snapped out of your musings.

“Tanaka-san.” You greeted back. The black haired guy chuckled, “I told you to call me by my first name. After all, we’ve been working together for 3 years. Unless, you don’t see me as a friend? Damn, it must hurt to only be seen as a student council partner even after winning the presidential election together.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You huffed, plopping down into the chair and hands gravitating towards the papers on the table before being stopped by a hand on your wrist. Raising an eyebrow, he returned the gesture indicating there’s something he was expecting you to tell him. He released the grasp on your hand the moment you were falling back onto the back support of the chair with a sigh. “How may I help you Akio?”

“On the way here, I heard an interesting piece of news.” He sat sideways on the table, the leg on the table folded over the leg still standing. You folded your arms over your chest and hummed. “You and Shinazugawa were fighting?”

“It was just a talk that got a bit heated. I was trying to get a hold on him so we can do our project for literature together.”

Akio’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under his bangs. “Wow, what luck. First, he somehow got into your class through that stupid maths shit and now you have to deal with him.” He smiled in assurance, eyes crinkling close and a hand over his heart. “Be careful but if anything happens, I’m here. I’ll come running to save my beloved president.”

You mouthed a wow. Silence blanketed the both of you as you nod in understanding - lips trying to contain the smiles and laughs - as he continued to express his devotion through his hand gestures - hand flying to point at you before returning to over his chest, patting it, then forming into a prayer of sorts - all the while mouthing his loyalty to you.

With a shake of your head and hands indicating him to leave as you pulled yourself closer to your table, “Thanks but I doubt I need it.”

Instead, he tilted his head backwards and narrowed his eyes on the ceiling. “If you see what I saw, I wouldn’t put too much faith in him.”

Blood freezes over while questions overwhelm your mind. You gulped and licked your lips to get rid of the sudden dryness, “And what exactly are they?”

“He didn’t stop beating them up or screaming at them even when they were down. Three policemen had to pry him off and restrain him.”

Your heart dropped.

#sanemi #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi imagines #shinazugawa sanemi #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #shinazugawa sanemi imagines #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer imagines #kimentsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #spring gale

63 notes · View notes

mythiccheroacademia · 4 years ago

Text

“I like bad bitches who be ragin’.”

—Rage | Rico Nasty

Word Count: 1.2K Pairing: Midoriya Izuku X Reader Context: Everything is the same, but you and Izu are married and have a kid named Miko. And I’m not sure what your quirk is exactly. Telekinesis? Idk. Whatever it is, it’s scary as hell. Warnings: kidnapping, use of guns, angst (kinda), the kid remains relatively unharmed, but someone goes feral

All characters are 18+

A/N: You heard it in the lyrics. Izuku likes them unhinged. Enjoy <3

Midoriya Izuku | Rage

Everything was numb as you ran down the dark hall of the abandoned building. You couldn’t think. Someone was trying to talk to you—maybe it was Todoroki, or was that Iida?—but it was hard to decipher their words.

After three days of endless searching, running, and crying, there wasn’t much left in your mind past your missing son and husband. And now that you were so close to finding them, anything else was just a waste of your time.

When you turned the corner, you gasped in relief. Despite the darkness, the familiar thrum of air your family carried around them touched your skin. Jirou had said they were a few kilometers away, but you could feel them. Even the tormented bags beneath your eyes couldn’t mask your hope.

“They’re here,” you whispered. “I can practically see—”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the faint but piercing sound of a gunshot.

…

By the time Deku’s heart began pumping again, his entire body was screaming. It ached in places that made him nauseous and he wanted nothing more than to leave. And he could. The ropes around his wrists and ankles were nothing more than paper bracelets compared to the magnitude of his quirk. Nearly a decade of having One for All easily surpassed whatever physical restraints any villain could put on him.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Izuku could obliterate this place to hell and leave in the next five minutes. But he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

And it was all because of the little boy in the damn cage.

Lurch laughed with deranged glee. In his hand was a pistol aimed upward, bullet miles away from the boy’s head. Once Izuku registered what had happened, he happily sunk to the ground as his hair was let go.

“Papa?” Miko called out.

The cool pavement against his forehead brought him minor relief. His heart was about to leave his ribs and he felt his body prickle after the onslaught of fear that attacked him.

“It’s okay, Miko,” he breathed. “You’re okay,” he reassured for both himself and the boy. His son hadn’t been shot. He was still alive.

“Did you see your face!? HAHAHAHA! That was beautiful!” the leader guffawed.

Izuku coughed to catch his breathe. He couldn’t do this anymore. It was too much. No amount of physical torture could amount to this.

“Okay, you win. I surrender. Just let my son go,” he whispered, voice pinched and weak. Painful tears dropped down his nose.

Lurch smirked. “I thought you’d say that. Luckily for you, I don’t believe in killing kids. I’ve got morals,” he shrugged.

“You’re crazy,” Midoriya muttered.

“So I’ve heard,” Lurch chuckled. The fox-like man nodded his head to his lackies. “Tie the kid up. We’ll dump him somewhere after I handle this.”

He loaded his pistol and aimed the barrel to Izuku’s forehead.

“Papa!? What’s happenin’!?” Miko cried. He couldn’t understand why his father was smiling his hero smile at a time like this. He wanted it to stop. He just wanted to go home.

“I love you, Miko.” Izuku simply said, trying to keep his voice strong. “Look away, okay? Be strong for me and your mother/father.”

The toddler continued to cry and question what was going on, but Izuku used all his strength to avert his gaze to the ground. He quickly made peace with the fact that this was probably where he’d die. He had a good run. As long as his son and his s/o were okay, he could die content.

But not without getting the last word.

The person behind him lifted his head up by his hair as Lurch spoke, “Any last words before I blow your brains out?”

“They’re coming.”

“…Pardon?”

Midoriya smirked at the man that would give him his end.

“If you just offed me alone, they might’ve gone easy on you. But the fact that you touched our son means all bets are off. They won’t rest until they find you. And when they do, they’ll take down each and every person in this pathetic gang with a vengeance that could make the devil shiver. You thought I was a pain in the ass? His mother/father will be your worst nightmare.”

The glint in the hero’s verdant irises made the man shiver. Lurch wanted to believe that he was saying this to unnerve him, but he couldn’t shake off the raw truth that radiated from the hero.

The villain clicked his tongue and held the gun with both hands.

“Prepare to meet your end.”

Izuku felt a sliver of hope as he remembered the person that was his s/o. You were never a fan of unnecessary violence. However, he knew there were things that surpassed the extent of your mercy and this was one of those things.

He hated that he had to leave you, but he knew you would handle it. You’d handle everything like you always did.

Y/N, Miko, I love you.

The sound of the gun going off was surely to bring death to Izuku, however he didn’t fall to the ground for that reason. The bullet never reached him. He fell because he was let go.

There was a moment of silence, confusion in the air, before a startled scream choked Lurch’s men. They held their necks and were forced to the ground as they gasped for the air that was suddenly cut off from them.

The gun flew out of Lurch’s grasp before it was decimated by the bullet that should’ve been in Deku’s head.

“What the fu—”

He suddenly found a hand wrapped around his throat, pressing his trachea close. The fox-man gripped the hand, struggling against it but could only let out a strangled gasp as he was lifted from the ground. As the surrounding heroes went to lay aid to Izuku and Miko, Lurch attempted to kick and throttle his way out. That was before his eyes finally met his attacker and a shiver so cold nearly paralyzed his spine.

The searing rage that burned white hot through your veins overtook your body like a physical cloud of thunder. Wisps of black and white dauntingly danced around you as the walls of the abandoned building darkened into something murky and dangerous. The only thing visible in the blackness of your fury were two glowing pairs of crimson sclera.

But that wasn’t just anger. Lurch knew anger.

What he saw in your eyes was hell.

What should’ve been your mouth cracked open into a cursed grin.

“Found you~” you sung.

Lurch gave a horrifying scream that shook the walls.

Off to the side, Izuku, who had been released form his binds and was now holding a passed out Miko, looked on at the scene. Call him crazy, but as you shoved the villain into the concrete, he let a smile of relief kiss his lips.

Iida was too busy informing the team of their location, but Todoroki had front row seats to the display of your built-up rage. He winced when all the villains were thrown into the walls.

He then gave his friend a wary side-eye when he chuckled. Izuku couldn’t help but gaze at you with adornment. He held his child tighter and spoke lovingly.

“That’s my Y/N.”

353 notes · View notes

shirtlesssammy · 4 years ago

Text

3x14: Long-Distance Call

Guys! We have a special surprise next week!! (Hint: We finally get to recap the gay angel episodes again!) Until then, enjoy our last episode for season 3...

Then:

Sam’s saving his brother no matter what

Now:

On a stormy night, a man drinks alone, contemplating life. His phone rings. It’s Linda. Ben tells her he can’t. “My wife.” He hangs up the phone. It rings again. Linda pleads with him. She loves him. He hangs up again. The phone rings AGAIN. He slams it down repeatedly and tears it from the wall. IT RINGS AGAIN! Damn, Linda, you are persistent. To stop the ringing, Ben pulls out a gun and shoots himself.

Dean tells Sam they have a case. Sam tells Dean that they’re on a case --his. Dean balks at that because they’ve got nothing. Bela’s gone, the Colt’s gone, and Dean would rather work a case they can solve than wallow in his imminent death.

They head to Milan, Ohio. They head right to the dead guy’s house and interview his widow. She’s a little belligerent but tells them that there was blood everywhere (Oh, that’s why she’s belligerent), favorite scotch was out, and the phone was ripped from the wall.

Sam asks to look at the crime scene. He goes through the caller ID. Dean asks about strange phone calls. She admits that a couple weeks prior she picked up on a call that Ben was on. It was static. No one was there.

Research time!

Dean finds out that “Linda” was Ben’s high school sweetheart --and she died in a car accident. On top of that, she was cremated. On top on top of that, Sam discovered that the caller ID on the phone traces back to a phone number used a century ago! (I presume Sam did all that research while he stared out the window.)

They head to the bowels of the phone company to find fly infested, porn addicted Stewie. I’m going to skip over all this but will laugh at the ad that said “Order now & receive a bone-us gift!” Sam asks Stewie to trace the old-time number. (Natasha: flames on the side of my face at this damn offensive porn franchise.)

Dean pulls out the threat level 5 on the guy and the guy finds some results. There’s different houses that all received a call from that number.

Sam heads to investigate one house. He poses as a phone company employee. He asks about strange phone activity. The man that answers the phone says that they haven’t had any issues. Sam notices the daughter looking concerned in the background.

She pops outside to call his bluff. She wants to know why he was asking about the phones. He gives her a little give and she admits that she’s been talking on the phone with her mom --who’s dead.

Dean checks in with similar stories. Then he gets a call. It’s the static-y voice of John Winchester.

Later at the motel, Sam wants to know more about Dean’s call. Dean gets all nervous boy about it possibly really being their dad, and what they should do about it. What should Dean say? Sam, ever the pragmatist, suggests, “hello.” It’s funny, but I guess not really because Dean walks out on his brother.

Dean comes back with a reason why things are happening here. It’s the birthplace of Thomas Edison, and there’s a museum with Edison’s spirit phone.

They take a tour but the phone doesn’t have any EMF. They’re stumped as to what’s happening.

Later that night, while Sam slumbers, Dean stays awake to answer his phone. John calls again. He asks Dean how he could sell his soul. “I was looking after Sammy like you told me to.” (Boris screams into the void) John tells Dean that the demon that holds Dean’s contract is in Ohio.

Meanwhile, the daughter from earlier is IMing a friend when she gets a message from her dead mom. The mom says she wants to see her. The girl is scared but her mom reassures her that she’s with her. Then the girl’s computer flickers out and in the reflection of the monitor, we see the girl and her mom.

The next morning, Sam returns from interviewing Lanie, the haunted daughter, to find Dean obsessing over demon omens. He shares his intel with Sam.

Dean’s pretty sure the demon who owns his contract is following him. I pull a Dean voice to say, “Why are you so obsessed with me?” only Dean’s actual line in the show is “My ass is too sweet to let out of sight.” God. This show. Sam tries to tell him that the demon-killing exorcism that John gave Dean over the phone might not be as advertised. Dean’s a believer, though. He’s got faith in John! (Just gonna take a li’l writing break to tear at my hair.)

Sam heads back to watch over Lanie, but before he goes the Winchesters hold an emotional shouting match. Dean’s ready to stop the demon from coming after him once and for all and thinks that Sam’s reticence is just more head-butting with their (now dead) dad. Sam accuses Dean of having “blind faith” towards his father and I weep. Sam leaves with one request: that Dean stay put until he returns from seeing Lanie. So. That’s going to go well.

Lanie explains to Sam what’s been going on - that her mom’s requests have extended beyond the normal grieving cemetery visit. We cut to a young kid playing in his room. His toy phone rings. “Hi, mommy!” he chirps.

Cut to Dean “Single Man Tear” Winchester sitting dramatically by his phone. It rings.

Lanie reveals to Sam that her mother’s ghost told her to kill herself. When Sam hears the ghost’s catchphrase, “come to me,” he realizes that they’re dealing with something else entirely.

While Sam experiences revelation, Dean heads off alone following his dad’s orders. f r o w n y f a c e. He ends up in a quiet, suburban home.

Meanwhile, Lanie’s brother Simon (of the toy phone fame) has gone missing. Sam saves him just in time from getting pancaked by a truck. As soon as the kids are buttoned up back home, Sam calls Dean. He tells him that a crocatta is after the people of the town. It’s a scavenger that lures grieving people and eats their souls. It tends to dwell in filth. Dean recalls the flies at the phone company, so Sam heads out on a hunt. (Meanwhile, YES, Dean’s off having his own questionable adventures, setting demon traps in a nearby house.)

Sam calls Dean for backup before assaulting Stewie, the phone guy. “I know what you are and I know how to kill you,” Sam says to the terrified guy. Someone looms behind Sam with a baseball bat. It’s Clark, the manager! He takes out poor soft-headed Sammy. Unfortunately, Clark takes out Stewie too.

They both wake up tied to chairs inside the building. Clark kills Stewie and then fangs out. He unhinges his jaw and sucks out Stewie’s soul. Yummy? Clark then lays his hands on the phone console...because it’s time to kill Dean!

Elsewhere, in a police locker room, a man’s phone rings. It’s his daughter. “I know who killed me, daddy,” she says. The girl’s voice tells him that her killer is at their house right now.

Clark explains to Sam that spoofing John Winchester was incredibly easy. All he had to do was find their phone numbers, then John’s old numbers. That let him listen to voicemails, read emails, and easily find the weak links that led him to target Dean. Oof. (Side note: a crocatta would make a seriously amazing private detective in an alternate Supernatural where monsters have better meal restraint.)

Dean stands ready at the suburban house - ready to kill a demon. The grieving officer heads home, ready to kill his daughter’s murderer.

Dean’s jug of holy water is met with an angry father with a shotgun, so things start out really well. They quickly devolve into a dirty fist fight.

Meanwhile, the crocatta continues to villain-monologue at Sam.

Technology, Clark says, makes it so much easier to target people. They’re connected - yet isolated and easier to pick off. (I scoff at this overdone oversimplification of the role of “technology” in society. I hate when people try to pretend the past was trouble-free.) Sam finds his argument weak as well, and punctuates that by breaking free of his bonds and attacking Clark.

At the house, Dean disarms the grieving cop and reveals the demon trap below the carpet. He starts reading out the exorcism. To his horror, the guy walks right out of the demon trap. When the guy accuses him of killing his daughter, the pieces click for Dean.

Sam kills Clark by jabbing his head into a retail hook suspended off the wall. OH I SEE, this show has always been obsessed with death by hook. >:|

Dean and the officer avoid killing each other. Instead, they despair in beaten silence together, before we cut to Dean holding a compress to his forehead back at the motel.

Sam and Dean go over the case back in the motel, but talk quickly switches to EMOTIONS. Sam apologizes to Dean. Dean admits he was wrong. “I wanted to believe so badly,” he says. STORY OF HIS LIFE DAMN IT. He admits that he’s terrified of dying. Terrified of Hell.

Sam gives him sad puppy eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with having hope.”

“Hope doesn’t get you jack squat,” Dean tells him.

For Sad Boys with Poor Coping Mechanisms Science:

Call Me By Your Quote:

I just talked to an 84 year old grandmother who's having phone sex with her husband, who died in Korea! It redefined my understanding of the word 'Necrophilia'

That’s what happens when you mess with the phone company, dillweed

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn 3x14 #long distance call #supernatural season 3

32 notes · View notes

hurricanery · 4 years ago

Text

If You Went Away - pt. 4

A/N: Here’s part 4! You can read the previous parts here:

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

If you sent a different prompt, I will get to it/start posting stuff in between. Thank you if you sent a message encouraging to post this next, the feedback is very much appreciated <3 This chapter takes place starting the day after Halloween/the day after the last chapter’s events.

_______

(present day)

A groan leaves her lips the second she opens her eyes and a dull, familiar ache expands through her head. The type of subdued headache you wake up with when you’re five years old and your temper tantrum is what finally put you to sleep in the first place.

But she’s not five years old. She’s a full grown adult who apparently still cries herself to sleep sometimes.

Her first thought is that it’s way too bright in here.

It takes all of her strength to push herself up and stumble across the room in an attempt to shut the blinds.

She manages to fulfill the task, but she’s interrupted on her way to climb back into bed. Because she’s gracelessly tripping over her boots, and her jeans, and her jacket. All of the things she’d worn the night prior. She steadies herself, as the unwelcome realities of the morning catch up with her.

And then it all hits her. As she looks down, noting her attire, dressed in only Link’s Mariners sweatshirt.

Suddenly she needs support. Her legs feel like they might give out from under her as the sleep-induced drowsiness fades and the trainwreck situation that was the night before crashes down on her.

Her head starts to spin as she tries to shut out her own self awareness. The awareness that she’d shown up here last night, acting completely unhinged, and then in her post-surgery sleep-deprived state, she’d practically begged Link for contact. Begged him to touch her. She cringes. Because those were almost her exact words.

She glances at the clock. It reads 9am. Which means Link was definitely at work by now, and Scout was definitely still sleeping. She forgoes her desire to crawl back into bed, and instead, decides a shower will help wash away her faults.

She enters the bathroom that’s attached to their room, reaching her hand over to turn on the shower. She waits a few minutes for it to warm up before stripping the sweatshirt off and hauling her body into the tiled stall.

She sits. Because that’s all she feels her body will allow.

She sits huddled on the shower floor, knees pulled into her chest, as the steady stream of hot water hits her in the back.

She focuses on the sound of the shower, trying to let it soothe her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registers the sound of her own breathing, trying to keep it steady. Her body feels numb as she focuses on the persistent sound of the water hitting the floor around her. It pounds in her ears, and if she focuses hard enough in her mind, she can trick herself into thinking she’s caught up in a thunderstorm. She likes that better. Pretending to be somewhere else. It’s easier than coming to terms with her own inconsistencies.

In her mind, it’s absolutely pouring. And when she concentrates deeply enough, she can hear the occasional crash of thunder. It’s quiet, but it’s there. Almost resembling the sound of her front door slamming shut with the wind. But more powerful than that.

However, it must be windy, because she feels the house creak with movement that she’s not making herself.

“Mommy….?” A familiar, timid, voice sounds from somewhere in the distance. And Amelia startles only a little.

“Mom?” This time it’s louder, closer.

And now she’s panicking a little. Because she knows Scout hates storms.

A knock against wood shakes her from her reverie and she lifts her head enough so that it meets the stream of water from above. And all of a sudden her head is stinging, because this water is absolutely freezing now.

“Mom?!” his voice is close now, and bordering on impatient. His tone brings her back to reality and she completely realizes where she is. How long had she been in here?

“…Scout?” Amelia finds her voice, perplexed. Scout usually sleeps in well past 10am when he isn’t woken up by her or Link.

There’s another faint knock against the bathroom door.

“I’ll be out in a second, Scout. Okay?” She tries to sound cheerful. “I’ll come make you breakfast.”

“Aunt Mer gave me breakfast.”

She frowns, standing up and shutting the water off. Meredith was here? She doesn’t know how to respond to that exactly. She feels numb, and confused, and out of her head.

“Can I go ride bikes with Bailey?!” Scout’s question pulls her attention back.

“Wait, hold on a minute,” she mumbles, pulling a towel around her body and moving towards the door. She peeks her head out and meets her son’s eyes. “Just wait for me to come downstairs.”

His hyperactive body language isn’t boding well for Amelia’s request. He’s practically jumping up and down from where he stands in their bedroom. “Please. Pleaseee. Bailey has his bike and he’s already out there! Please!!”

“Okay, okay,” she groans. And Scout immediately takes off, running towards the stairs. “Wait! Hold on there, buddy!”

She exits the bathroom fully, and Scout stops in the doorway, looking at his Mom anxiously, like she’s about to be the gatekeeper of all of his fun.

“Scout listen to me,” Amelia says pointedly. “Just because Bailey has a big kid bike, doesn’t mean we’re changing anything about your bike-”

“Mommmm!” Scout interrupts her with an exaggerated whine. “I know I know, please!”

“Hey! I asked you to listen.” She waits for his impatient demeanor to calm a bit before she continues. “Scout, you have extra wheels for a reason, okay? We’re not taking them off until Dad has time to teach you-” Amelia trails off bemusedly as she watches her son nod along with her words, focus elsewhere, his eyes darting back to the stairs every few seconds. She recognizes the distant sound of Bailey’s laugh from the driveway outside.

“Okay, go.” She laughs. And Scout immediately runs off. “But stay in the backyard!”

_______

After about twenty minutes of pulling herself together, Amelia finally rounds the corner into the kitchen. Meredith turns around from where she’s cleaning up some of the mess from breakfast.

She raises her eyebrows at Amelia briefly. “Long time, no see,” Meredith says, somewhat sarcastically.

“You say that like it’s my fault,” Amelia defends herself. “The phone works both ways.”

Meredith frowns, but then nods at her words, in a very ‘you got me there’ type of way. “Well anyway, you look exhausted,” Meredith says blatantly.

“Thanks,” Amelia laughs, reaching for the coffee-maker. “I actually slept really well last night.”

“Something tells me you didn’t.”

This was their typical banter. Amelia actually feels comfort in the layers of sarcasm and utter boldness of their dynamic. It’s sort of refreshing. Compared to Maggie, who often tells Amelia what she wants to hear, Meredith doesn’t beat around the bush.

“You want to talk about it?” Meredith offers, somewhat flimsily.

Amelia grimaces. Because no. She doesn't want to talk about it. But, she knows she has to. It will all come out anyway. And to Meredith, of all people, who was queen of telling her to stuff her feelings in instead of dealing with them.

Amelia clicks the coffee-maker on and listens to the familiar sounds of the machine coming to life. She peeks out the kitchen window, a smile waving across her features as she watches Scout show off his training wheels to Bailey. She turns back to Meredith, who’s still looking at her blankly. Then she decides to rip the bandaid off, putting it all out there.

“I basically begged Link for sex last night.” She leans back against the counter nonchalantly. As if the situation she’s confessing to is completely normal. “And then…” She laughs at the absurdity of her own words. “When he rejected me….? I cried myself to sleep.”

Meredith’s expression doesn’t even falter.

“In his arms!” Amelia raises her voice incredulously, still laughing bitterly. “I should add that. I cried myself to sleep….in his arms.”

Silence fills the kitchen momentarily, until the distinct sound of the coffee-maker clicking off catches Amelia’s attention. She moves toward the cupboards, rummaging for a mug, before pouring herself a cup.

“It could be worse.” Meredith finally says, after Amelia takes her first sip.

“Ah, shit!” Amelia exclaims, burning her mouth on the hot beverage, almost breaking the mug with the force she sets it down with.

She takes a moment to gather herself, closing her eyes and nodding at Meredith’s words. Because she’s right. In the grand scheme of things, it could be much, much worse.

And in an almost ironic turn of events, her thoughts are interrupted by the agonizing sound of her son’s cry from the backyard.

Amelia’s eyes spring open and she glances at Meredith briefly before they are both taking off, sprinting outside.

She feels like she’s having an out-of-body experience as her senses adjust to everything that’s happening around her.

She sees Scout. Sprawled out on the driveway, a bike abandoned about 10 feet away.

She hears him. His scream of a sob. It rattles her eardrums and covers her body in chills.

And she hears Bailey, too. His panicked tone as he explains how ‘Scout just wanted to try it, auntie Amelia, he just wanted to try my bike for a minute!’

“Shh, Bailey, shh,” Meredith murmurs somewhere behind Amelia. “What happened?”

“The...the bike tipped over,” Bailey cries. “He just wanted to go fast, Mom. He just wanted a little push. I’m sorry!”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay,” she hears Meredith whisper to Bailey.

Amelia approaches Scout, and just by the positioning of the fall, she can already tell that things are at the point of much, much worse.

“Meredith,” she breathes, as she kneels on the cement of the driveway. She hovers over Scout, pushing his hair back and resting a hand on his hot cheek, murmuring to him that everything is going to be fine. She turns back to Meredith. “His, his arm….look at his arm. Look at the angle of his arm.”

“I’ll get the car.”

_______

The ER is crowded when they arrive and Meredith decides it’s best to take Bailey home before things get too chaotic. She reaches for Amelia’s hand and squeezes gently as they both watch the resident on call guide Scout into a wheelchair.

“Thanks for driving us,” Amelia whispers, glassy eyes still glued to her son as they begin walking inside.

They get situated in one of the trauma rooms and Amelia hovers over Scout, who has finally stopped crying.

“Mommy,” his voice is still strained from his previous sobs. “It hurts.”

“I know, baby, I know.” She can’t help the tears that spring to her own eyes as she runs her fingers through his hair gently. “But you’re so brave.”

An intern that Amelia doesn’t quite recognize walks into the room and she turns to him. “No,” she says, dismissively. “No, I told them to page Atticus Lincoln.”

“Uhhhh,” the intern looks around, confused. “Well, we did page him but-”

“Go find him,” Amelia interrupts. “On foot.”

The intern stares at her blankly.

“Now.”

The harshness of her tone has him turning on his feet instantly.

_______

“It looks like….the impact of the fall definitely caused a tear in his rotator cuff,” Link murmurs, as he examines his own son carefully. “His shoulder is dislocated. We’re going to have to….reset it.” Link outwardly cringes at the last thought.

Amelia sighs. She stands on the opposite side of the bed from Link. She can’t take her eyes off of Scout.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, bud?” Link gently responds as finishes his examination.

“Did I break my arm?”

“No, no. Not quite.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Link laughs, half-heartedly. “Yeah it is.”

“It doesn’t really hurt anymore.”

Amelia’s gaze snaps quickly to Link, out of concern. But Link’s tone provides an instant sense of calmness to the room.

“Well, that’s actually good,” he explains. “Because, you see, your arm isn’t broken. It would hurt a lot lot more if it was broken. It’s more like….your bone is in the wrong place.”

“And….you gonna….put it back where it goes?” Scout wonders out loud, causing both parents to smile despite their joint concern.

“Yeah, bud,” Link murmurs, watching as Amelia brings her own hand up, biting at her thumbnail anxiously. “We’re gonna put it back in the right place.”

“Mkay,” Scout murmurs quietly. “I’m tired now….” He blinks, eyes shifting between both parents on either side of the bed.

Amelia smiles sweetly, tears threatening to make another appearance. She gazes at Link.

“That’s okay, Scout,” Link whispers, eyes shifting from Amelia to his overtired five-year-old. “You can close your eyes….that’s actually better, while we wait….to not have him moving around much….” The last part is directed more towards Amelia, who nods solemnly at this information.

“What do you mean ‘while we wait’?” Amelia whispers, noticing how quickly Scout had drifted off.

Link sighs heavily. He moves towards one of the two plastic chairs in the corner of the trauma room and motions for her to join him.

Amelia bites her lip anxiously. The anticipation of sitting so closely to him, mixed in with the regret of her actions last night, causes her to panic. With the chaos of the morning, Amelia barely even had time to dwell on how their first conversation would go after last night. These weren’t the circumstances she imagined at all.

What immediately registers for her, despite her own nerves, is just how overwhelmed Link looks, too. And that revelation is what allows her to cross the room and take the seat next to him. Because despite what had happened between them, they were in this moment, processing together.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” she murmurs as she sits down. “It all happened so fast….we just had to get here. I completely forgot to grab my phone-”

“Amelia, that’s not what I’m worried about,” Link interrupts, the tone of his strained voice perplexes Amelia and she turns to him, studying his face.

“What then?”

“I, uh….we’re waiting….because I paged Nico.”

Amelia just frowns. “You’re here now, though. I don’t understand why-”

“I can’t do it,” he says simply. Eyes glued to the floor as he zones out slightly. “I can’t be the one to pop his shoulder back in place.”

“You’re….” Amelia trails off, her eyebrows pulling together as she tries to understand. “You’re head of ortho….why would you not be the one to do this….”

“It’s gonna hurt like hell, Amelia!” Link’s voice raises harshly and they both turn to Scout, checking to see if he’s woken up from the slight outburst.

“Sorry…” Link murmurs, much quieter. “I can’t….I won’t let him associate that kind of pain with me. I won’t do it….”

Link’s getting worked up now and Amelia absentmindedly reaches forward, squeezing his knee. When she realizes what she’s done, she quickly pulls her hand away.

“Okay, I get it.”

Link finally looks at her, and for the first time Amelia sees the panic in his eyes. It mirrors her own.

“He’s going to be okay.” Amelia adds. And when she reaches for his knee this time, it’s not absentmindedly.

Link glances down, eyes focusing on her hand. He inhales deeply, and then hesitantly rests his own hand on top of hers, giving it a small squeeze.

The moment is interrupted when Nico walks into the room, and they quickly pull apart.

They both stand. And Amelia exhales shakily as she moves towards Scout, gently reaching forward to wake him up.

_______

“You did so good, baby,” Amelia murmurs, ruffling Scout’s hair as she once again feels her eyes sting with moisture. This time it’s out of gratitude.

“Do I get anything I want now?” Scout wonders, as Link and Nico carefully help Scout up from the bed.

Amelia laughs. Because she had promised that. When the panic set in just before Nico began the process of re-setting Scout’s arm. Scout had lost his cool completely. Breathing rapidly as his eyes darted between his parents in total fear.

‘I’ll get you anything you want after this’ Amelia had pleaded with him.

And Nico had stepped forward, resuming the task at hand.

‘Look at me Scout, look at me and scream as loud as you can. Don’t hold back, I want to hear it.’ Link had instructed.

“Cuz I know it.” Scout chimes in again. “I wanna ice cream sundae. With sprinkles.”

Amelia laughs again, reaching for the hand on his good side as they walk out of the trauma room and towards the ambulance bay. Scout’s injured arm now resting in a sling.

“I can make that happen,” Amelia smiles as they walk outside.

“No, dad too,” Scout whines, pulling his hand free from her grasp. Amelia frowns. “You both have to come!”

“Dad’s working, Scout,” She mutters, “Sorry, you’re stuck with just me.”

“Noooo,” he whines. And the realization dawns on Amelia that it must be closing in on late afternoon. This was Scout’s usual naptime. He was only going to get more irritable.

“Sorry, Scout,” she tries not to sound too defensive, attempting to hide the ego bruise developing at his sudden refusal to be with just her. “That’s just the way it is…”

“Then why's Daddy walking over here?”

“Huh?”

Link catches up with them a moment later. Jacket on. Holding his car keys.

“Hey! I wrapped up early. You guys probably need a ride home, right?” He looks at Amelia. He can’t quite determine the expression she gives back to him. Somewhere between hurt and frustrated.

He looks between the pair, perplexed.

“What’s up?” he mutters in question.

“We’re getting ice cream!” Scout excitedly announces.

“Oh?” Link trails off, glancing back at Amelia, whose appearance doesn’t at all match Scout’s enthusiasm.

She rolls her eyes.

“I can drop you guys off somewhere and pick you up?” Link offers quietly, muttering to Amelia.

“No, no!” Scout interrupts. “No, Dad! You have to come! You have to come, too!” He stomps his foot and Link almost wants to laugh at the impatience. He doesn’t laugh, though. He holds back at Amelia’s demeanor.

Scout looks up at Amelia, and she sighs, weighing her options.

“Okay, let’s just go,” she breathes, glancing at Link. Who frowns slightly at her. But she just nods her head, suddenly indifferent.

Scout squeals with excitement, taking off quickly towards the parking lot. And Link catches up with him. “Wait, buddy, Slow down! Try to keep that arm still.”

Amelia trails behind them a bit further back, mentally preparing herself. Because now that the major crisis of the day was resolved, there was suddenly way more room to process the events of last night. And what their new normal was, going forward.

#amelink #amelink fanfic #amelinkfic #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy fic #grey's anatomy fanfic #grey's anatomy fic #my writing #meredith grey #nico kim

31 notes · View notes

moonlight-breeze-44 · 4 years ago

Text

Never Alone

Hey, guys! This is my Detroit: Become Human Secret Santa fic for @anataarts and I hope it is even half of the gift they gave me <3 Thank you so much again for your gift, anataarts, and I really hope you like this!!

Read on AO3

“Nines, behind you!” Nines whipped around to face the threat, his crisis sensors telling his finger to press the trigger before he even had time to think. The bang from his weapon echoed throughout the warehouse, and the kid - he was 17 years old, Nines’ facial recognition software told him - and his switchblade dropped.

“Nines!” Gavin skidded over, his hand on his weapon. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Nines breathed, his thirium pump thudding peculiarly. He couldn’t stop staring at the kid - the dead kid, the kid he’d killed.

“Are you sure?” Gavin’s voice was tinged with worry. “You look like shit.”

“Charming as ever, Detective Reed,” Nines replied.

“Samartass,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes, but a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. “Seriously, tin can. All good?”

“All good,” Nines promised his partner, ignoring the odd way his sensors glitched when he caught another glimpse of the 17 year-old lying on the warehouse floor. “We should radio in for backup.”

Gavin nodded and called it in, giving the dispatcher their location. Almost as soon as he clicked the radio off, another shot rang out in the warehouse.

Nines stumbled, his optical sensors blinking red. He could hear Gavin shouting, but it was as if it was through a tunnel; muffled, distant. He realised, sluggishly, that blue blood was leaking from a large, gaping hole in his chest cavity. It was a bullet hole. Nines had been shot.

“Nines!” Gavin screamed, as if to confirm his suspicions. “Nines!”

Nines stumbled forward, ignoring the red warning message from his optical sensors. Gavin. He had to find Gavin. The gunman was still in the warehouse.

Gunmen, Nines’ combat sensors picked up. He could hear more gunshots, and a few voices that he recognised - Chris, Tina, Hank and Connor. Their backup had arrived. Nines sagged with relief. He wasn’t sure how many hostiles there were, but he did know that he wouldn’t be able to protect Gavin like this. Making sure that Gavin got out alive was all that mattered.

On the other side of the warehouse, Hank and Connor were under fire from three different assailants with machine guns, being backed by Chris and Tina. Gavin knew he should be there, too, but one knowing look from Hank and a motion from Chris alleviated his guilt just enough to leave them and take off after Nines. He was blinded by the sight of his partner with a bullet hole in his chest, somehow still walking towards them, no doubt following the sound of Gavin’s voice like some kind of puppy. Fuckin’ androids. So goddamn loyal they forget to protect themselves.

Gavin raced to his partner’s side, steadying him with a hand on his back and rushing them out of the perps’ line of fire. Nines reached out blindly, seeking Gavin’s hand, his touch, just so he knew that Gavin was alive and okay and unhurt.

“S’okay, tin can,” Gavin murmured, allowing Nines to tangle their fingers together, even as he stripped off his jacket and pressed it to the bullet wound in Nines’ chest. “I’m right here. Not goin’ anywhere, Nines, not without you.”

Nines didn’t know he could gasp, thought it was a purely human reaction to shock, but he found his jaw going through the motion when Gavin started to put pressure against his wound. His hands scrabbled helplessly against Gavin’s, and he heard Gavin swallowing hard.

“You’re fine, you’re okay,” Gavin promised him, and Nines struggled to believe him. He didn’t feel fine. He didn’t feel okay. Even aside from the physical damage, he felt absolutely unhinged, ripped open and bleeding in more ways than one. He’d killed before, of course he had, but he’d never killed a kid before. A 17 year-old with their entire life ahead of them, and Nines had snatched it away in the blink of an eye without even thinking twice. He was a murderer. Just like he was programmed to be.

Nines heard, distantly, the gunshots stop, and he knew the others must have apprehended their attackers. Or, well. Nines didn’t think he had the heart to contemplate the other possibility.

“C’mon,” Gavin mumbled, and then he was urging Nines up with a hand on his back, guiding him out of the warehouse and into the light.

The sun hurt Nines’ optical sensors, turning the blood-red of the warning message to a fire-truck-red that made him cry out in pain. He clutched Gavin’s arm, stumbling along next to him as Gavin guided them to his truck.

The ride to CyberLife was short, the waiting time even shorter, and then Nines was on a table and the edges of his vision were going black, Gavin standing over him with a tight smile on his lips.

It’s going to be okay, Gavin was saying. Nines did his best to believe him.

~ ~ ~

When Nines woke, it was to the sound of hospital monitors beeping and the low hum of machinery. “Gavin?” he croaked out, searching for his partner in the darkness of the CyberLife recovery room.

“Right here,” Gavin said from somewhere in front of him. Nines heard him moving around, and then light was flooding the room and Nines was blinking, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings, and he opened his arms for his partner without conscious thought.

Gavin raced to Nines’ side, stepping easily into the android’s embrace. “Nines, I, fuck,” Gavin whispered against his synthetic hair. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Nines grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, holding on to each other and drinking in the calm atmosphere of the recovery room. Nines could hear other people milling around outside, and he concluded that the others must be waiting for Gavin to come out so they could see him, as well. He couldn’t control the way his lips quirked upwards at the realisation that Gavin had first priority and, for the foreseeable future, always would.

“You okay?” Gavin’s voice was impossibly soft, and he brushed a bit of Nines’ light brown hair off of his forehead. The touch of his fingers made Nines shiver, and his synthskin peeled back where Gavin touched, making the older man smile.

“Yes,” Nines replied carefully, but now that he was awake, the memory of the 17 year-old he’d shot was making its way back into his mind, clear and horrible as ever.

Gavin raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You sure about that?”

Nines sighed. He could never hide from Gavin. “I was just thinking about that kid.”

Gavin made a small sound of recognition and let his arms fall to his sides. “Oh, Nines. You know you didn’t have a choice.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nines replied. “I just - he was a kid, Gavin. He was just a kid.”

“Yeah,” Gavin murmured. “It’s always hard when it’s a kid.”

“Will it stop?” Nines asked. “The, the guilt. Will it go away?”

“With time,” Gavin promised. “It won’t go away overnight, though. It’ll take a little bit, but I’ll be there. You'll need somebody by your side the first few nights. You’re bound to have nightmares. Wait, can androids even get nightmares?”

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Nines mumbled, some bitter sadness making its way into his voice.

“Hey.” Gavin reached out and placed his hand over Nines’. “You won’t be alone.”

Nines smiled. “I know, Gavin. With you, I never am.”

#detroit: bh #DBH #DBHSecretSanta2020 #DetroitBecomeHuman #detroit evolution #reed900 #hurt/comfort #angst #tw: gun violence #secret santa #detroit become human #my writing #ao3

42 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years ago

Text

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.

A/n: You might be noticing a lot less 1st person pov, I'm slowing inching away from that since 1st person isn't a strength of mine. I most likely will phase that out altogether, idk, let me know?

Trigger Warnings: Violent racism. Allusions to domestic violence. If you would like/need to skip, I will be putting the usual markers [●●●] before and after. Both of these warnings will fall under the marker. Safe reading, my loves! I care about you all so deeply, and I want you guys to have my stories as an escape so I'm really hating myself that this scene is coming out during all this. Not that it was ever not going on before cuz we all know that's bullshit, but with it all being so amplified right now. Again, I love you all and if you ever need anything 💕💕💕💞💞💞 edit: also brief mention of needles

||3rd Person POV||

Billy Hargrove's car skids to a halt in front of the Byers house, the four tires send gravel up flying. The headlights dim out with a sharp click as he puts the car to sleep, and the rusty car door squeaks as he opens it. He takes the dying cigarette out from between his smirking lips when he sees who is waiting for him on the porch.

"Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?"

Steve sighs, tiredly. "Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants."

A cocky smirk overtook Billy's face and he shed his coat out of intimidation. Steve stepped off the porch and the two boys walked across the yard until they were directly across from one another.

"Whatya doing here, amigo?" Billy asks.

Steve cocked his head to the side, his arms coming to cross over his chest. "I could ask you the same thing... Amigo."

The cigarette hung loosely from Billy's lips once more, and for a small but lingering moment, he observed Steve trying to get a read on him.

"I'm looking for my step sister. Little birdie told me she was here."

Steve was quick to dawn a mask of surprise. "Huh, that's weird I don't know her."

Billy's face was slowly but surely molding into a wild glare, his brows already knitted together in agitation. He begins gesturing, vaguely.

"Small, redhead. Bit of a bitch."

A lick of anger flickered over Steve but for the kids' sake, he didn't let it show. He merely shrugged in a bored manner.

"Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, buddy."

Billy shook his head as he glowered at the ground, a twinge of disgust twisted up in his face. He took the cigarette into his hands, and he looks at it for only a second and smacks his lips.

A deep sigh resonates from within his chest, and he steps forward waving a shaky hand in the air.

"You know... I don't know, this...?" He falters, trying to find the appropriate word. "This whole situation, Harrington, I don't know. It's giving me heebie-jeebies."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He takes another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs and the feeling fuels his rage.

"My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day," his cold green eyes were now wide and dilated. Beady almost as he looked at Steve, no longer attempting to hide his fury. "And then I find her with you. In a stranger's house. And you lie to me about it."

His voice is shockingly calm, but lower than usual. A disgusted and hardened scowl contorts his face, and it doesn't ever seem to move. Steve laughs, hoping it doesn't sound as nervous as he is beginning to feel. Luckily, he recovers quickly.

"Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?"

The smoke leaves Billy's lungs in a joyous cackle, his tongue flicks across his top set of teeth in excitement and there is a wild and unhinged look in his eyes. Steve didn't know it yet, but he had just said the magic words. He had just pushed the wrong button.

"I don't know what you don't understand about what I just said." Steve finished, watching unsettled as Billy continued to lick his lips excitedly. "She's not here."

Steve felt his confidence rising considerably. Up until Billy inched closer, he then rose up his cigarette, pointing it over his shoulder towards the house.

"Then who is that?"

Steve looks over his shoulder to find four heads crammed together against the window, watching.

Inside, Max, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike threw themselves down against the couch as fast as they could.

"Shit!" Cried Dustin, he looks between his friends hopefully. "Did he see us?"

"Oh, shit," Steve mumbles, turning back. "listen--"

Steve was on the concrete in seconds, Billy stalking forward to tower over him.

"I told you to plant your feet." He spits.

His right leg rears up and in one swift motion, his boot collides with Steve's abdomen, knocking the breath out of him.

The front door slams against the wall, shaking the frame and the four cowering bodies standing across the room.

[●●●]

His eyes narrow upon seeing Lucas among the bunch. Eerily enough, despite his bigoted fury, his face is completely devoid of emotion.

"Well, well, well," he seethes, one long arm throwing the door slammed behind him. "Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise."

He marches forward, and every thud of his boot's rubber soles against the linoleum is like a boom in his ears. He is already backing away, Max the only one brave enough to stay by his side. Billy's attention is redirected to her.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max?"

"Billy, go away."

Her voice is shaking but she holds her ground. His voice lowers to a terrifying and threatening volume as he spits at her coldly.

"You disobeyed me," he says, in almost a sad and disappointed tone. "You know what happens when you disobey me."

"Billy--"

"I break things,"

The second the words left his tongue, he whirls on Lucas picking him up by the scruff of his jacket and carries him all the way to the kitchen wall. He cries out, fighting against the iron grip, but it does little help. Terrified screams of protest erupted from the other three kids, but he doesn't listen.

"Get off of me, you--!"

Billy shoves Lucas farther into the shelf to enunciate his point and he leans in closer, teeth gritted.

"If Maxine won't listen to me, maybe you will," Lucas doesn't give up fighting, his legs and arms still struggle for freedom but what little confidence he had waned as Billy leaned in closer. "Stay away from her."

Lucas feels himself being pulled forward before being thrown back into the shelf again and he grimaces in pain.

"STAY," his head begins to tremor, his rage overcoming his body. "away from her. Do you hear me?"

His heart slamming against his ribcage as he stares at Billy and his furious scowl, Lucas takes several shallow breaths and grits his teeth right back. "I said get off of me!"

Lucas's knee flies up and connects with Billy's groin, and the young Hargrove stumbles back with a tremendous groan. He's doubled over, hands gripping his legs and squeezing in pain till his skin goes completely white. Slowly his head rises revealing his now purple face, it's decorated with several thick blue veins on his forehead. His groans of pain evolved into furious growls, and his beady eyes are locked on Lucas.

"You are SO dead, Sinclair!" He roared. "You're dead."

[●●●]

A hand landed on Billy's shoulder, ripping him around on his heel to find Steve with disgust written all over his face.

"No," he spits, cocking one arm back. "You are!"

Steve's fist collided with Billy's nose, sending the other teenager back several paces once again doubling over. He watched as Billy straightened up, an odious and maniacal cackle erupting from his throat as he wore a wicked grin. Blood began to pour from his nose, and he licked his lips excitedly. Behind them, Lucas had scurried away and into the waiting arms of his friends who all took him into a protective group hug.

"Looks like you got some fire in ya after all, huh?" Belted Billy joyously. He stalks closer towards Steve, his voice lowering with every word. "I've been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody's been telling me so much about."

Steve reaches out and places his two forefingers on Billy's chest, lightly pushing him away. "Get out."

Billy stills as if contemplating his next move but by the time Steve can even blink, Billy has already made it. His fist swings through the air, nearly hitting the side of his head if he hadn't ducked fast enough. As he comes back up, Steve uses the momentum to swing his own fist into Billy's head and it knocks him into the table.

Dustin and the other begin to jump for joy. "Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!"

Billy rises again, more blood covering his lip and another cackle bubbling up but Steve doesn't wait for it to coms out this time. He throws another punch, and it lands squarely in Billy's jaw and he tumbles further into the kitchen counter. He just laughs more, blood now pouring from his mouth and staining his lips and teeth.

Another punch.

His lower back collides with the rim of the kitchen sink, and everything on the counters nearby begins to shake. His head is rolled back in laughter, and the kids encouraging cries are enough to distract Steve from the fact that Billy's right hand is reaching for a plate.

It breaks over his skull and he stumbles back covering his eyes and clutching his scalp. The kids' cries never stop, but they do turn worried as they scream for him to get up, and various 'looks out's were thrown his way. Billy was already on the move, and his shoulder reared back, his hand balled up into a fist with his eyes locked on his target.

When the blow finally comes, Steve is sent into the shelf and several things fall to the floor, including himself. He manages to catch his footing before completely meeting the ground, and as he struggles for balance he fumbles into the living room. He feels himself being yanked up to his feet, Billy's hands grip his sleeves tightly and he gives him a good jolt. His head rolls around on his shoulders as he is thrown around, still blind sighted with pain.

All he can do at the moment is push his one free arm into Billy's heaving chest, desperate to create as much distance as possible. He's shaken again, and Billy drops his voice into an angry hiss.

"No one," he pants. "tells me what to do."

His head flies back before barreling into Steve's, once again sending him flying across the floor. A triumphant cry is ripped from Billy's bloodied lips, the veins in his forehead and throat resurfacing. He stomps across the room towards Steve, all the while ignoring the many screams and pleas for him to stop and leave him alone.

"You're gonna kill him!"

"Billy, stop!"

"Get up, Steve! Come on, you can do it!"

Billy swings one leg over Steve's nearly unconscious form, trapping him in one spot and continues to throw his punches now completely unhinged. Steve's head is swung from side to side as each of Billy's fists connect with his face. Blood flies with every swing, a terrifying roar erupting deep within Billy's chest, and Steve is already more than halfway under. It is truly a disturbing sight to behold, the kids stand planted to the ground in utter terror, screaming their throats raw, begging for him to stop.

All except for Max. She knows her stepbrother is too far gone, and even if he wasn't, he never was an easy one to talk down. She must take matters into her own hands, and that's exactly what she does.

Her eyes have already found one of the syringes used on Will, and it was still full. Wasting no time she snatches it up and rips off the cap. Shoving the boys aside, Max marches across the living room to an unsuspecting Billy. The syringe flies above her head before descending in one swift motion and entering his neck.

Max backs away, the syringe remains buried deep in his skin. He clamors to his feet, staring at her in shock though already it has begun to take effect. He staggers back as loses balance, and his eyelids grow visibly heavy. His bloodied hand feels as if its filled with lead as it rises all the way up to his neck, and he winces as pulls the needle out.

"The hell is this?" He grumbles, lumbering after her. "You little shit, what did you do?"

He has to fight hard to maintain his vision and his balance. It feels as if gravity has tripled. With her directly in his sights, his anger once again redirected at her, he commands his feet to take him to her. Instead, he blinks and finds himself on his back with an aching spine.

"Shit," Mike breathes.

The anesthesia coursing hard through his veins is enough to subdue him but does not bring him completely under as it did the small Byers boy. But it was enough for everyone at that moment. They watched disturbed as he laid on the floor, his head rolling back and forth as he laughed almost joyously. He was amused.

Max only looks at him, for once in her life without even a sliver of fear. All that's left is loathing, and disgust.

She shakes her head, deciding she is still not done. Max would ensure that this would not happen again.

Max takes the bat into her hands and held it over her shoulder, stalking over till she towered over Billy as he had done to her oh so many times.

"From here on out, you are going to leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?"

"Screw you," he spits.

With all her might she throws the bat into the floor just between his legs, his head limply raises up to see that it had missed his crotch by only inches. Everyone watches in awe.

She has to pry the bat from the floor, the several metal nails had been buried deep into the wood floor only further proving her strength and point.

"Say you understand!" She roars. "Say it!"

He says nothing, his head still rolls across the floor.

"SAY IT!"

"I understand," he whispers meekly.

Her brows shoot up, and she tilts her head. "What?"

"I understand." He repeats.

His eyes flutter closed, exhaustion sweeping over him. Satisfied, and finally free, Max drops the bat to the ground with a clatter.

Three mouths watch agape at the sight, they only widen further when she steps around his still body. Bending over, she pulls a set of keys that stick out from his pocket and hold them up for all to see with an impatient look.

"Let's get out of here."

||Reader's POV||

The ride here lasted way too long, at least it felt like it did. My hand comes to rest on the shoulder of Jonathan's seat as I try to peer around to look at where we are. The car had already been going fairlybslow these past few minutes, but it had gotten even slower leaving me to believe we had to be here. Sure enough, just past a few trees, I can barely make out a small wooden porch of the cabin illuminated by the headlights.

I look over to my right at Joyce as the car comes to a stop. Nancy and Jonathan exit the car and head for the trunk, their doors rocking the car a bit when they close them. Will, for the most part, is cradled against Joyce, his head lays against her chest. She hasn't taken her eyes off of him since we got in the car, she's just been lovingly stroking his hair and brushing strands away from his face. My eyes fall to him, my mind hasn't been able to think about anything else other than him or what I'm about to try to do.

I feel eyes on me, and I look up to meet eyes with Joyce. Her expression is hard and somber, her lip is trembling but her eyes are far kinder. We share a silent exchange, knowing the road that lies ahead will not be an easy one, and it's almost a weak attempt at consoling each other.

I take a deep breath and open my door.

"Y/n,"

I stop, my hand leaving the handle and I look at her curiously.

"Sweetie, I am so, so proud, a-a-and thankful for what you are willing to do for this family," she smiles halfheartedly. "But this is a lot to ask. Are you sure this is something you're up for? I couldn't possibly ask you to do something so big if it's too much."

I look at my feet, her words bouncing around my head. They are the perfect meal for my anxiety, feeding all my fears and doubts. And yet, nothing inside me changes. I look up at her, my eyes falling to Will as I speak.

"Yes," I murmur, shaking my head a bit. "I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try."

My eyes well up with tears, and I look to the woman, who so long ago, had become like a second mother to me.

"Will's my best friend, he's one of the best people I know. And I know he would do the same for me," her eyes are fogging up too, I realize. "This family has done so much for me... I want to give something back."

"Oh, honey," she croaks, reaching a hand out and over Will to give my hand a light squeeze. "You are apart of this family."

The dam breaks, and I feel several hot tears slide down my cheeks and dangle from my jaw. I smile crookedly and soon so does she. She gives my hand another light and loving squeeze and we nod and exit the car.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Between the four of us, we managed to get Will and everything we brought up to the house in one trip. I took the stuff Jonathan had grabbed from the trunk so that he could carry Will.

Nancy is the first to enter, and hitting a switch by the front door, a couple of lights flicker on. We file in one by one, and when I enter after Jonathan, I'm surprised at what I see. And smell. I had expected a mothy, and dusty old cabin given the boards over the windows but it was surprisingly tidy and smelled a bit like an unusually pleasant mix of laundry detergent and pine.

It finally hits me this was where El had spent the last year. It's weird to think this is where she has been living all this time. I step out of the way as Joyce comes in after me, and hesitates just as I did to look around. I stand on the other side of the couch as Jonathan lays Will down on the cushions. Thankfully, he hadn't woken up and we can all only hope that he stays that way until we're ready. We were halfway there when we realized we forgot the anesthesia.

I release a deep breath, trying to push out as much of my nerves as I can and my eyes linger across the room soaking up the details. My eyes catch on what lays sprawled out on the coffee table; a large and completed puzzle of a fireworks display. I feel my expression soften, the ends of my lips tugging up as I think about El enjoying her puzzles.

"It's actually," Nancy said as she got a good look around. "kinda nice."

"Hopefully we can keep it that way," I joke dryly.

I watch as Joyce roams around the room inspecting the place, finally she stops in front of the cast iron fireplace and kneels down in front of it. She looks up at all of us and nods.

"We'll do it here."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jonathan and Joyce bring Hopper's bed out into the living room in front of the fireplace. All the while, Nancy and I begin setting up the heaters.

I'm glad I have the help, it makes everything a little less intimidating. Only a little. I still know that this is going to take just about everything I've got.

But I meant what I said to Joyce. I am going to do this. I have to. And I want to.

That quick trip to Chicago is starting to turn out to be not such not a bad thing, after all. If I hadn't gone, I never would have broke. I never would have hurt so hard that I found my control. I never would have hit rock bottom. But that's the thing about rock bottom, I guess.

You can only go up from here.

Joyce begins to fill the fireplace to the very top, and Jonathan and Nancy have already turned on the space heaters.

I return from the kitchen with snacks and juice in hand, and I felt absolutely foolish. But halfway through set up, I realized I was going to need all the strength I could get. Which meant I needed fuel. Thankfully, the others not only understood but encouraged it. Even though it all made sense, I still felt silly sitting at the table, eating Hopper's food while everything was going on around me.

But I'm so hungry. I hadn't realized how tired and starving I was until I sat down. It must have been almost a full day since I've eaten! I try to remind myself that this is all what's best for everyone. I can't make much of a difference if I'm not taking care of myself too.

I'm surprised I'm having trouble at all, but my nerves are only growing as time marches on. But before I know it, I've cleared everything in front of me, and just in time, too. The others are now gathering around Will, and they don't seem to be attending to any more details. I rise from my chair and join them.

When I see Will, I can feel coils around my heart tightening, constricting it completely. I suddenly wish Dustin were here just so I could yell at him, cause it really did look like it was right out of the Exorcist.

They had managed to tie his hands and feet down, each limb now connected to each leg of the bed. His arms laid as perfect 'L's beside his head, and he was still an unnatural shade of white.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Jonathan asks, voicing all of our inner doubts.

Without breaking her gaze away, and the hard and stern expression returning to Joyce's face she answers.

"This thing has had Will long enough," she spits, sounding as angry as I felt. "Let's kill this son of a bitch."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Black Lives Matter links below. Check them out please! Do what you can, every voice counts! These past couple resources have been thanks to @ blm-links on tumblr

Colorado Freedom Fund

"Founded in 2018, Colorado Freedom Fund (CFF) is a revolving fund that pays ransom (posts money bond, pays cash bail) for people unable to afford the cost of buying their own freedom. #FreeThemAll #BringOurNeighborsHome"

[Link]

Anti Repression Resources & Tips

"We provide support for actions that are anti-patriarchal, anti-racist, anti-imperialist & anti-capitalist. Our support work comes primarily in the form of education, information and referrals. We also manage an anti-repression bail fund for those that do not have the resources to bail or bond themselves. We are a first resort for education and information on solidarity and a last resort for financial support."

[Link]

Friendly reminder to check out and support the wonderful black writers on this site. Particularly accounts dedicated to writing woc/poc!readers. I've found the most on tumblr [you can find and add to the list on my notifs board. I'll move it somewhere more conviennent when I can] but I've struggled finding some on here and on ao3 and such.

So please tag them below, or here in the comments, any you might know of on this site or ao3, they NEED to be easier to find!! Especially with x readers. I'll return here and add to this as well when I can. Again, soon I hope to find a more creative and useful way to tag black and poc/woc!wow! Cause again, I want this to be an easy to find resource for anyone looking for xreaders.

I'll be sharing them on every platform of my account, so you guys get the recognition - and proper representation - you deserve.

+++

Tag List: @dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater @daughter-of-the-stars11 @stranger-things4 @heavenlycat567 @nightbu-g @grapesauze

DM me, or drop by my inbox if you want to be added!

60 notes · View notes

nekoabiwrites · 5 years ago

Text

To Love a Remus

It’s @doces-e--tuga / @pastries-and-deceit‘s birthday!! And she deserves all the loooove <3 Happy Birthday Maria!! (at least in her timezone)

I’m late to the party with posting this bc I’ve been at work for too long, but I hope you like it <3 I am also a slut for the idea that the Dark Sides all were buds back before Virgil moved over to the others, so this is more of a reflection of that too.

AU: n/a Pairing: Demus Words: 1366 Warnings: Deceit and Remus, blood mention, inappropriate conduct, bandaging wounds. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Remus is an idiot... but somehow Deceit thinks that idiot is somehow... attractive?

---

A scream echoed down into the dark and dingy room, getting closer by the second. Virgil merely offered a glance up to the darkened ceiling to confirm its source before returning to looking at his phone, scrolling through his tumblr feed absent-mindedly. Silently, he mouthed a countdown from 3.

As he reached 1 and nodded his head towards the sound, something smacked onto the floor. The accompanying noise of the air getting completely knocked from someone’s body made the anxious side flinch ever so slightly, but he still didn’t get up from his curled-up position. His eyes darted to see if the other was now lifeless, but Virgil was able to notice the heaving breaths and the wide eyes staring directly upwards which quelled the growing nerves a little.

Stunned silence followed, only being broken by the heavy breaths from the one laying on the floor.

“Is this heaven…?” The body piped up.

“Judging by your presence, it’s hell.” Virgil retorted, now fully turning his attention to his mindless scrolling.

“Oh. So I am dead?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “No, Remus. You’re not dead. Unfortunately.”

“Good!” The green side hopped back up onto his feet quickly before wincing in pain. He instinctively put his hands to his side as his body attempted to crumple into that spot. Blood coated his hand when he pulled it away. Remus inspected it then licked from the heel of his hand to the tip of his middle finger, humming happily. He also glanced down to where he’d been laying for several minutes, finding that he’d left a nice puddle of red there too.

“Ugh… Fucking disgusting.” Virgil muttered, grimacing and observing the duke. He stood up on the sofa and hopped over the arm in order to avoid the area Remus was now standing in. “I’m not dealing with this.”

“Bye Virgil!” Remus waved his still-bloody hand, splattering some of it onto the walls. He considered painting a picture on them with the red liquid once he noticed it, but he was interrupted before he could even start narrowing down what he wanted to make. A hand gripped his shoulder tightly and started to steer him towards the small table. Remus followed obediently, hoping up to take a seat on the table while his companion took one of the chairs.

The first aid kit that was usually stashed in the kitchen was open, yellow gloves sat to the side of it. “What did you do this time?” Deceit asked, already reaching for items from the box.

Remus grinned, already stripping his top half in preparation for Deceit’s medical attention, “Well, if you really want to know, I-” The moustachioed side began to tell a tale of how he’d snuck into the imagination through his ‘back door’ – Remus giggled maniacally at that - and left a note for his brother, telling him of a large monster that was roaming the depths of the forest. Remus then had camped out for days, transformed into said monster, waiting for his twin to appear. Roman had eventually fought his way through the forest brush and found him; an epic battle apparently took place where both of them were left bruised, bloody and beaten. Remus faked the death of the monster and found himself leaving the imagination the hard way. “And then I fell all the way down to here!” The unhinged grin was plastered so far across the other side’s face, it was making Deceit’s skin crawl just slightly.

Through the story, Deceit had managed to easily bandage up Remus’s large wound. The box was snapped shut and gloves were put back in their place, “I’m not busy and I have plenty of time to look after you like this. So, do be stupid while you recover because I will do this again.” The scaled side slipped the first aid kit through into the kitchen before briskly walking to his room. Before exiting, he glanced back at Remus who was picking at the bandages, “I love it when you get hurt…” Deceit quickly darted from the room, hoping Remus hadn’t picked up on what he’d accidentally muttered to himself.

Deceit knew his purpose, he knew what role he had to play, and that role had nothing to do with love of his own and yet here he was. As the door to his room clicked open, the scaled side was cursing himself mentally. He was still trying to gain of control his feelings and sometimes they just slipped out. Usually, it wouldn’t be an issue. He’d be alone and thinking about it, words would fall from his mouth and Deceit would curl up into a cushion and wait for his blush to diminish. Before he could resign himself to an evening of lingering over every word and touch, something tackled him from behind and wrapped its limbs around him, sending Deceit toppling to the floor. He attempted to grab a hold of his dresser to steady himself, but it went falling over with him, creating a loud crash.

“Remus, I swear to god, if you are destroying this place again, I will-” Virgil stormed out of his room. He only got a few steps into the hallway before stopping dead.

Remus was happily staring up at Virgil, a playful glint in his eyes and an unhinged grin on his face, while he lay completely atop a very flustered Deceit. Sure, Deceit was face down on the ground and seemingly trying to claw himself out from underneath Remus and it could have been entirely innocent, but with Remus involved, Virgil didn’t want to take any chances. He turned sharply around and walked back the way he came without a word. At least, until his door shut.

“Just keep it quiet. I don’t need to hear that shit!”

If Deceit’s face wasn’t already blindingly red, Virgil’s implication had him practically combusting. He managed to scramble out of Remus’s hold with some effort. Once back on his feet, Deceit righted himself and attempted to look unphased. He wanted to say something, imply that Virgil was wrong, lie through his teeth and say that nothing like that would ever happen between them. Deceit cleared his through in order to do just that but, as he looked down upon Remus, something was not allowing him to lie about that.

Remus was still laying on the floor, attempting to pose in a flirtatious manner, but the exaggerated nature of it was hindering it somewhat. At least, Deceit thought that should be the case, but for some bizarre reason that had no explanation, he was finding it… attractive. His thoughts were a mess for a moment, all the noise around became simply background static as his body worked on autopilot. In no time at all, Deceit was at eye level with Remus, lips pressed firmly against his. It was a little awkward considering that Deceit had to deal with Remus’ current position and his body was seemingly refuse to lay down alongside him, but it didn’t seem to intrude on it whatsoever. After a few moments of silence, the scaled side pulled back sharply.

All of a sudden, Remus’ arm shot out and wrapped itself around the back of Deceit’s neck, tugging him back in close, “Oh no! You're not getting away that easily, my sexy mamba.” He said, loudly. Remus flopped backwards, so he was now entirely laying on the floor, making it far easier for Deceit to kiss him again.

A fake vomiting sound came from the shut door across the hallway, as well as a pained groan. Remus pushed Deceit away for a brief moment, letting the scaled side take a few breaths as well as take the last few seconds to look at the world around them as Remus was going to make sure they both didn’t see it for a long time once they started again. He called out to Virgil, “Don’t be jealous, Virgil!” An unholy screech pierced their ears while was quickly muffled before Remus tugged Deceit back in again, moving them without getting up through the open door to Deceit’s room, more than excited to finally get things started with the other side.

---

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

General Tag List: @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince @llamaly @justanotherpurplebutterfly @iaminmultiplefandoms @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @louisthewarlock @fangsandrainbows @xxladystarlightxx @sleepyssnail @ao-koshka @notalwaysthevillian @pumpkinminette @doces-e--tuga @coloursintheblur @safesandersides

#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Deceit Sanders #Remus Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #ts deceit #ts remus #blood tw #injury tw #To Love a Remus #Happy Birthday Maria <3

124 notes · View notes

craftmanatee · 4 years ago

Text

Dread X Collection 3 Games Review

Once again, my friend and I have played through a new Dread X collection and I would like to make a short concise review for each game including the Hub area. We each played 1 game resulting in 6 each. The order of games reviewed is not the recommended order to play as we went on a very simple roundabout on the graveyard, and the games have a strong sense of quality unlike Dread X Collection 2 which had many great quality games and many low quality games.

Lets go!

Game X: The Castle (A bit unremarkable)

Scare Type: Cute

Player: My friend

The castle in some way is a step back from the awesomeness of the house. As it proceeds with forced dialogue cutscenes with your character and a ghost character that possesses in you. The puzzles and areas are also larger and more spread out and easier than the house. The Dialogue cutscene itself even give the idea to not compare the two, which is understandable. But let me tell YOU that I enjoyed the house more than I did the Castle (Even if it was not I who was doing the Castle Bit), so even if they are different, one was in my opinion better than the other.

The forced Dialogue cutscenes weren't to bad. The Voice Acting was not bad. Its rather the script and subjecting the player to sit through it. Its not the most fun to sit through and could have been handled better. In the house, a dialogue still happened but you were still free to move around while listening to the pre-recorded message. The ghost possessing you could have done the same with you, but instead this YOU is a character that must go into a dialogue and stop your gameplay.

The STYLE of the castle is where I think it wins the best. The very cute spooky aesthetic is great, and hold a lot of details we noticed near the end of the game. Like the paintings being famous paintings, replacing the characters of the paintings to goofy ghosts. Time passing between each game is also a great detail, making the castle ever so slightly different all the way to night time. I love the castle for this.

We quickly figured out that the theme for this Dread X collection was not just Cute and spooky, but also the inevitability of death.

Nate Berens – SATO WONDERLAND (Ok)

Scare Type: Surprising!

Player: My Buddy

This game was alright, nothing too amazing as pulling different topics to make a new dialogue box appear was tedious and a bit annoying. But the story itself was pretty cool, resulting in a surprise ending. Each game have different endings which we did not try to explore, but for this I think we managed to get the best ending. Not much to say about this one.

Blood Machine – Soul Waste (Eh...)

Scare Type: ...None?

Player: Me

Soul Waste is a 3D action platformer about this... post apocalyptical world, and you happen to be the “Saviour”. We got Ending C for this as we felt the tedium of the collectables and we weren't going to sit around collecting them all in this weird to navigate map. The enemies did not make much of a challenge making the game bit boring. The end boss was the only thing that gave me some ounce of real fun. There was a lot to explore, but my patience wore thin due to not being that interesting of a platformer. Although it did look good for what it did. There is some to explore which we did not, but I simply noticed that there was some things here and there that we did miss. We just did not feel the need to go back.

Bryce Bucher – Disparity of the Dead (Great!)

Scare Type: Horror that sticks around even after the game.

Player: My pal

This game I think pulls off the themes of Dread X Collection 3 very, very well! Perhaps the best thematic one? Nevertheless, this is a 3D platformer that lets you talk to fun characters collecting collectables and piece together a mystery. The topics that which the game introduces to you are all very good and sad in many ways. It also had a lingering effect on me personally. This lingering horror reminded me of SOMA by Frictional Games. Anyways, the game in general is not horrifying until you get to a certain point. Then when the actual ending plays, it all gets sad. We do not know if there are different endings, but the ending we did get was a sad one in my opinion and was great.

Amon Twentysix – Bete Grise (Cool!)

Scare Type: Uneasy, then relief!

Player: Me

I really liked the aesthetics of this game, reminded me a lot of some obscure old-school games. The gameplay is mostly of you going floor to floor doing cleaning and... repairing? Anyways, there are a few hints here and there that foreshadow the great revelation at the end. I saw some of them and felt very uneasy when going through the process as it all felt like a facade. But once the revelation hit, the game turned into something more funny, stylish and well, just felt good. Its rare for a horror game to kinda blue ball you into satisfaction.

DIRIGO GAMES – REACTOR (Disappointing)

Scare Type: Betrayal

Player: My Homie

This is a game I spoiled myself with, which is why I had my friend play it instead. The game is mostly a walking simulator in which it feels like you shouldnt be there in the bad/useless way as there is a robot buddy who keeps you company and doing everything for you. When the time comes, you are then obviously, chased to the ending of the game. Its not scary, sad. Its just a simple experience. The aesthetics of the game is great, by being a gradient of blacks and whites as well as minimal uses of colour. Other than that, this is disappointing.

Moya Horror/Amos – Nice Screams at Funfair (humorously frustrating)

Scare Type: Dont fail

Player: Me

This is a very short game that was short enough for us to also explore a different ending. There is no real inherent horror here. Its mostly thematic to being like Halloween. The game has you serving icecream to people, the challenge is to serve them the ice cream that they want, and take the money into your tip jar or cash register. The real challenge is the controls, as throwing ice cream into the ice cream cones often fails for no reason, and clicking on to activate anything just sometimes did not work. Resulting in funny scenarious. We got 2 different endings for this, one that made sense, and another that we didnt understand. The game looked great, the intro did not have to be as long as it did but it was a fun little ride.

Basalt Tower – Matter OVER Mind (Woah!)

Scare Type: Loosing progress...

Player: My Amigo

Matter over mind absolutely felt like an old-school platformer, it was also unique, colourful and funny/cute! Crawling around as a little parasitical monster and possessing scientists in order to escape the labs just looked great. Like many of these games, it had a collectible that meant... NOTHING. And if you died collecting them, you will loose them all. Prompting you to reset the entire game. Nevertheless, it was an impressive game that felt great.

Corpsepile – Submission (Fuck yeah!)

Scare Type: Scary, but also funny

Player: Me

This game had so many unique and cool twists and ideas. Maybe one of the best games in this collection. It was absolutely creative, funny... everything! It was also scary at times, referencing P.T. Its puzzles were great and fun, so much good about this one! The gameplay switches often, the horror amps up... Man... Submission was super good! Cant really say much other than that.

Torple Dook – Chip’s Tips (Funny!)

Scare Type: Friendly?

Player: My guy

Super creative point and click adventure game, hamming it up to 101%. It is also so patronizingly friendly that it becomes funny. Probably the most unique game on this list. And you can pet the dog in this game. I absolutely love the aesthetics of the unhinged masked textures, as well characters being flat cutouts. What is sad is this game feels like the end to Torple Dook’s streak of being in Dread X Collection games as it references his previous 2 games as well as more.

Breogan Hackett – Bubbo: Adventure on Geralds Island (Woah! x2)

Scare Type: JUMP

Player: Me

A very well done 3D platformer, with some challenge. The game is not scary, although it does come to a point. The platforming was very good albeit a tiny bit weird when turning in a specific way. It also features hidden collectibles that we unfortunately did not find all and left it at that. It sounded and felt good, looked good and was fun to get to the end with. There are different endings, we (me) only got to see 1. I jumped at the right time and made my way out!

Modus Interactive – EDEN: Garden of the Faultless (Chaos?)

Scare type: None, just weird.

Player: My hombre

This is literally a game akin to raising your Chaos in Sonic Adventure games. Just that you raise your little Evangelion. This game I think, has the best Ps1 look than the other games. It has a very weird control scheme, as well as being weird in its own right. And it nails the aesthetics very well. Too bad the game is finicky or boring, sporting long paths and lots of waiting. I guess you could have some fun minmaxing your wittle angel. I guess you always need at least one super unorthodox entry in a collection.

Adam Pype & Viktor Kraus – SPOOKWARE @ The Video Store (Quintessential)

Scare Type: brief moments of panic

Player: Both of us

This game... is actually really fun. Spookware is literally Wario ware but with horror movie themed events. The style, game and everything is perfect. Although very short, I would honestly buy a game like this if it was fully complete. I also think this is the most fitting game for the theme of the collection. Although, not much is done about the “inevitability of death” theme here, but everything else about it carries the collection thematicly. Such a fun and quirky little game.

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

Conclusions

And so, the best games in the collection In my opinion were...

#1 Submission AND Spookware

#2 Chips Tips

#3 Disparity of the Dead

The collection was not at all as scary as the first or the second collection. Although, that is understandable as it had a more Fun and goofy vibe to it. I love seeing these collections and it introduces me to people ive never heard of before. Like Viktor Kraus who made the music, like in the trailer for the collection. Thats a great one. I wish to keep seing them make these and I hope that it is profitable for them in the end as well.

#dread x collection #Dread X Collection 3 #horror #Halloween #Spooky #Scary #video games #realtalk #review #torple dook

4 notes · View notes

thelunaticbinge · 5 years ago

Text

Kenny Omega is a Siren

And I am but a flailing sailor throwing myself onto the rocks.

I've been watching wrestling since I was about 10 years old, give or take. I'm now 28, almost 29. I fell in and out of watching it along the way, but have been pretty consistent for the past 6 years.

WWF/WWE has been the primary player in my story, understandably. I grew up in love with (and still am in love with Jeff Hardy). I gravitated, as a kid, toward colorful characters and teams like Team Xtreme, and ones that were high flying dare devils. The acrobatic, lightning fast nature of that style captivates kids easily, it can’t be denied. I still love the style, and appreciate any performer that works that way. It’s high energy and grabs the audience.

Despite this preferred style, however, I must admit that the actual wrestling wasn’t what initially drew me in, and it isn’t often what keeps me held nowadays. Obviously, if I didn’t enjoy the physical aspect, I wouldn’t be watching, and I can recognize when someone is particularly talented at what they do in the ring. But it was always the characters and the stories that pulled me in when I was younger, and which continue to do this day. That being said, I’ve gravitated away from WWE in a lot of ways. I appreciate so much of what the guys and girls do, and how hard they work, and how talented they are, and yet I’ve been terribly bored by it all lately. The stories just aren’t there for me. But that’s an essay for another day when I have more patience.

Fast forward to roughly a year and half to two years ago. Enter Bullet Club/The Elite.

I have far too much solitary time at my job so my mind tends to wander into daydreaming about what it would be like to meet some of these guys, or else what it would be like to sit down and actually spew my wrestling fandom story to some made up interviewer. Doing this really helped me dissect what it is I love about Kenny as a performer. Because I love him as a person too, but that much goes without saying. I’ll get this out of the way right now so that I can be genuine and serious for the rest of this. Most of what I explain in this essay lends A TON to the fact that the man is just sexy as fuck. Kill me dead.

God damn angel.

The first thing that drew me to Kenny was, in fact, his in ring ability. As I said before, I don’t often over analyze what the wrestlers do in the ring aside from finishers or signature moves and if I like the way they look. For instance, I think the RKO is one of the loveliest moves to watch. Call me fake all you want, it’s fine by me. I’ve been watching long enough to know what most moves are called and how an in-ring performance aids the story: I’m not uneducated, this is simply about taste. I’m a plot person, a charisma and character person.

But Kenny is one of the special ones.

Something about the way he moves strikes a chord. It took me a while to pinpoint what it might be, but I finally had an epiphany not too long ago. He really does move like a video game character. I grew up loving video games and while I don’t play as much anymore, I really appreciate how his passion for them bleeds into his wrestling style.

And it isn’t just his moves, but his mannerisms. I’ve seen a lot of people say they don’t like that about him; that he’s too over the top and goofy sometimes, and I just want to tell them, “That’s the point, though.” He excels at being over the top. Because depending on what he’s doing, who he’s fighting, what the current arc is, his mannerisms always make sense to me. The deliveries of his finger gun, the “You can’t escape”, some of his crazy eyes. I love it all.

I am 90% sure that the first match I ever saw of his was the one with Jericho at the Tokyo Dome. So obviously I haven’t been around long as far as his career goes. But if there was ever a match to fall in love at first sight with him, that was the one.

His moves, guys. HIS MOVES. The man is a machine. But like a 95% organic, android machine. Terminator, obviously. Wink wink.

Think about it. He is so crisp, concise, and articulate in how he moves. He is both explosive and technical. He mixes the powerful moves in with the high flying, manic style I’ve loved since I was ten in such a seamless way. The one-winged angel is a great move for its established devastation. Rarely have I seen anyone kick out of it, which is why I’m glad he never connected with it in the Mox match at Full Gear. Mox was able to come out on top in his specialty match, and yet Kenny wasn’t lessened by having his finisher made ineffective.

But I’ve found that even though I adore Kenny’s finisher and his flying over the ropes and around the ring, it’s some of the other things he does that fascinate me. For one, I adore the movement for his “You can’t escape” segment. How, may I ask, does a person move like that? And I’m not even talking about the moonsault part. I provide a link to a twitter gif because I can’t save gifs off twitter. Click HERE.

The man is like a gymnast with that stuck landing GOOD LORD.

To make up for the lack of an at hand visual, have this gif because I love it.

Secondly, the V-Trigger. This is a signature, yes, but fucking beautiful to watch. It’s speed and power and looks as life-ending as it does poetic. Just ask Joey Janela.

Have I mentioned yet that I love Kenny’s run? It’s so distinctive. Especially when it first starts. The high knee. The acceleration. The man is gorgeous in motion. Just agree with me and we’ll keep trucking along here.

The one move, though, that really illustrates what I’m getting at here is one that should--at least to my not professional in any way eye--be fairly elementary. I’m talking about the the snapdragon.

Please correct me if I’m wrong in saying this, but to my eye it seems like a move not developed for its power/match ending ability, but simply as a way to bring the opponent down and waylay them for a minute. It’s a suplex of sorts, yes? I imagine it isn’t meant to result in a pin.

But Kenny’s snapdragon is probably my favorite move he does. The Speed. The SPEED. THE SPEED. Whip-like and akin to the RKO in its tendency to strike out of nowhere. I watched him do it 3 times in a row live in person and I could only stare with fucking heart eyes.

He takes this move that should just be a trip up maneuver and makes it look like it could truly kill a man.

This is the best gif I could find, my apologies. Found on reddit.

Again, maybe the move was always supposed to spell obliteration for the opponent. I don’t see it really outside of when Kenny does it. But I think his style largely affects my view of it.

The motion of this man in his performance really drives home to me what so many people love about the art in wrestling. I sit up and pay attention to the physicality in a way I don’t in other matches. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll be up out of my seat for a lot of guys and gals, screaming and electric with the crowd when shit gets crazy. But when Kenny is in the ring, I find myself really absorbing what he does because of how well he does it. His talent has really connected with me, but I get it doesn’t with some people. Well, maybe I don’t get it, per-say, but to each his own.

I find that a lot of the qualities I find so enrapturing about his wrestling transition into what I love about his promos. His work on BTE is often very different from the NJPW/ROH/AEW stuff. His BTE stuff is usually humorous and endearing in weird, chaotic ways. I find him funny and cute and sometimes a bit unhinged. I’ve always liked a little crazy in my faves, let’s be real.

His in-ring promos hit a different nerve.

As with his wrestling, Kenny’s speech is crisp, concise, and articulate. It’s been a while since I’ve watched one, but I call to mind his introduction of Marty into Bullet Club. The wording he uses in such promos really elevate his character, especially when he’s got The Cleaner vibe going on. But for me, its all in his tone, the inflections. He’s quiet and you listen. The promos are smooth, easy to track, and evoke emotion.

It’s been a long time since a wrestler has really snatched my attention in the way Kenny Omega does. I find myself listening to my faves’ promos in both WWE and AEW more often than “listening” to their matches, and this often leads to me missing parts of the story. Do some promos fall flat? Sure. Depends on the character much of the time, and if I dig the current rivalry.

It hasn’t yet mattered to me who Kenny is facing. I pay strict attention. And in turn I pay attention to what the other person is doing, too. I love the wildness of Kenny’s matches--a wildness that isn’t only made obvious by his high flying moves, but by the subtler ones, too, as well as his mannerisms and expressions. The man can lay you out with a one-winged angel, 1,2,3. But first he’s going to tear you apart with a plethora of poetry in motion.

#kenny omega #aew #all elite wrestling #the cleaner #being the elite #bte #welcome to my brain

58 notes · View notes

peterpumpkinparker · 6 years ago

Text

Dropping By- Peter Parker/Spiderman Oneshot

Hi guys! I know its been awhile and wow Ive missed this blog-hopefully this makes up for the 3 months of ghosting <3 Word Count: 800+ Genre: Fluff! Warnings: None!

You stared at your complexion in mirror, not truly happy with the person staring back. Did your hair look fine? Did you look under dressed? Over dressed? Was your makeup too much? Too little? Your head swirled with these unanswered question. You knew know matter how hard you tried, you weren't going to look perfect on this first date.

Peter Parker, your crush since you walked into his chem class and fate graciously put your seat next to his. Your crush since he helped you study for chem after your grades started to slip. Your crush after you realized he was the Spiderman. Your crush after 4 months of pining for him, had asked you out. You thought it was a miracle, but really, everyone knew it was meant to be- and by everyone, Ned and MJ. But he had asked you out to dinner, at some new Italian restaurant, and you calmly said yes even though you wanted to scream.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror, letting the happy memory wash of that day over you like sunlight in summer. You weren't sure you were ready for this date- the butterflies you had were practically eating your stomach from the inside out- but you weren't going to back out now.

You walked down to the living room, hearing your parents in the kitchen. It was almost a half an hour to your date- and you were hoping to give a pep talk to your parents to not make things awkward between you or Peter by asking embarrassing questions. But, to your confusion, your parents looked like they were leaving- when they specifically said they would be home.

“Whatcha guys doing?” you asked casually, cautiously watching your mom pack makeup into her purse.

“Oh, y/n, you look so nice,” your mom complimented, her voice leaving a trace of guilt.

You grabbed a water from the fridge, your hand shaking from nerves.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked before gulping down water.

Your dad sighed, giving your mom a sidelong look. “Y/n, were sorry, but you cant go on your date tonight.”

You felt your heart drop down to your stomach as shock filled your system. Almost choking on water, your voice cried out, “Why?!”

Your mom gave you a sad look, explaining,” Your father forgot he had a company get together tonight, and he promised he would be there, and he can only get in with a plus one.”

“Its required I have a partner with me to get in,” your dad further explained, “some fancy restaurant or something like that- I know it sounds stupid,” he added, seeing your clearly reproached face, “but your mother and I have to go. And you have to hold down the fort while were gone”

You looked between your parents, hoping for a crack in their faces, a way to wiggle in and get what you both want, but there was no way in.

“So- no date?” you asked helplessly.

“Im sorry, y/n, but- no date.” you mother answered, her voice stern but sympathetic.

You sighed, filling your disappointment replace the excitement. “Guess I'll go call Peter.”

“Alright,” your father called out from the front door, “tell him were very sorry- we'll be back around 9!”

Your mother gave you a quick hug, and after your good byes and the slam of the door, the emptiness of the house made you somehow sadder than before. You didnt want to call him- the dread of letting him down, or him thinking your backing out made you feel guilty. But you found yourself finding his number in your phone, and clicking the call button, the ringing sound making you chew on your nails from nerves.

Peter picked up surprisingly quickly, making the butterflies come back from the sound of his hello.

“Hey Peter,” you sighed, dreading to tell him the news.

“Hey y/n!” he said rushed, as if he had been running for a while, the sound of wind making his voice sound fuzzy. “Im almost there, dont worry, I just gotta couple blocks to go-”

“Are you being Spiderman right now?” you asked, a smile sneaking onto your lips.

“Uhhhh-why you ask that?”

“Cause- I can hear Karen through the phone,” you stated with a smirk, waiting for his reaction.

“Crap!”you heard him curse, making you laugh even though the guilt was eating in your stomach.

“Yeah… I am,” he admitted, “but Im gonna change in the alleyway next to your house- so your parents wont think Im some crazy person when I come to pick up.”

You sighed, burshing your hair to the side. “Peter- Im so sorry to say this, but- you cant come over.”

“Wait- whats wrong y/n?” he asked, hurt in his voice, making your heart ache.

“Nothing, its just, my parents have some stupid company party to go to, and they need me to “hold down the fort”, you said with air quptes, not remembering Peter couldnt see them, “so- the dates cancelled.”

“I really was excited, Pete, I was,” you put in after, rushing your words to hopefully fix any wound you caused him.

“Me too,” he replied after a small silence, his voice smaller than usual.

‘Next week,maybe?!” You hated hearing him sound dejected, so to compensate, you tried to make your voice sound hopeful.

“Kay?” you asked him, hoping he would forgive you for doing this to him.

“Kay,” he repeated, his voice still sounding as if you just dumped him.

“Im so sorry about this Pete.”

“Its not your fault- Ill see you later, I guess. Night y/n.”

“Night.”

You sighed, laying on your bed, hoping the tears trying to crawl up would go away.

“Well,” you concluded to the ceiling, “that didnt go as well as I hoped.”

With no plans for the night, you decided to just do what you usually do on a normal night- blast music and try to do some homework. The night was just about to come, twilight coloring your room with a burst of golden hues. It was beautiful, you had to admit, and again you felt a pang of longing to be with Peter

.It had been an hour of lonely listening to your depressing playlist of sad songs when a sudden knock was heard on your window. You jumped, a scream escaping your mouth as you instantly turned off your playlist.

You craned your head at the window pane, trying to see who the intruder was, but only a pink and orange sky greeted you. You stepped off your bed gingerly, and as you opened the window to investigate the strange sound-Out of nowhere, a red object whipped out from above the window, making you scream until you realized who it was.

“What the hell!?” you yelled, laughing off the fright.

“Im sorry, Im sorry!” Peter unhinged himself from his upside down position, the piece of webbing flying away in the breeze as his feet made contact with your small terrace.

You smiled, nervousness attacking your stomach. “Its okay,” you asked after brushing your hair out of your face- “why are you hear?”

You watched Peter shuffle a little with his feet, his broad shoulders blocking your sight of the railing of the terrace.

“Well, I felt bad that we couldnt- ya know, go out or anything-” he fumbled, “so….” He took a pause, looking at you so intently with those bug eyes on his red mask you felt a little unnerved- like he was staring right into you.

“Uh-Why dont you just close your eyes,” He finally said, the nervousness coming through in his voice. You were confused, so you took his outstretched hand with a suspicious smirk, and you laughed at the ticklish feeling his hand left on yours as he led you out your window.

“Okay, “ he counted, “one..two...three.”

You opened your eyes, and when you did, you were met with the sight of a mini picnic, complete with even a little bouquet of flowers with your favorite Italian food laid out on take out plates. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you didnt know how to react to such a sweet gesture.

You stared at it, shocked- how could you be with someone so sweet and caring?

“I mean, its not much-” he began to ramble as if he was embarrassed about the cheesiness of it, “but I figured since you would be home you might want to hang out here- its okay if you dont but I just thought maybe Id come hang out with you instead of going somewhere so I picked up the food I hope you like the flowers some lady sold them to me on the-”

You laughed, kissing his cheek to make him stop- you knew if you didnt do something, anything, hed probably go on that nervous rant for hours.

“Its perfect.” You smiled at him, happiness filling up in your eyes.

Peter felt relief envelope his body. He wished he wasn't so awkward around you, but you didnt care if he rambled, or accidentally scare you half to death. You were so sweet and funny and new him so well and man, you looked so pretty at this time of day, he wish he could take a picture of you and keep it forever. He sighed, relishing the feeling of your hand in his.

“Wait-” you interrupted his thoughts, “how are you gonna eat?” You pointed at the obvious mask covering his face.

“Oh!” He thought, feeling dumb for not thinking of that and maybe changing before he decided to knock on your window.

He quickly fumbled with his mask, bringing it above his nose so all you could see was a wide grin.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much better,” you smiled, and kissing his cheeck again you yelled: “Lets eat!”

I hope you guys liked this! I havet been active (like at all) so I hope this makes it up! :)

Taggings:

@fratboievans @grandmascottlang @galaxy-parker @hollandroos @honeymoonparker @hazsterfield @itsholyholland @naturallytom @starksparker @underoosstark @uglypastels @underoos-shield @petersshirts @revengingbarnes @th3n3rdyon3 @just4muggles

159 notes · View notes

mc-amps · 6 years ago

Photo

The Wacky Adventures of Seven McDonald

Here it is~ My fic for @mysmehalloweenzine They’re having their leftovers sale rn, so be sure to check it out if you missed your chance to preorder. https://mysmehalloweenzine.storenvy.com/ It’s totally worth the purchase ;)

My fic was also illustrated by the amazing @nanashiart I’m seriously blessed that she agreed to collab. Her illustrations really did bring my fic to life <3

Pairing: 707xMC

Rating: Everyone

Warnings: Spoops and elixir +_+

“Are you sure this is okay?”

Seven’s heart jumped at her whisper. He talked to her on the phone many times before, and yet, without the static filtering her voice, everything was different. The CCTV’s low quality, grainy veil was lifted, and there she was: flesh, blood, and soft warmth walking beside him through the dark and decrepit hallway.

“What do you mean? It’s a haunted house! It’s made to walk in and explore.” So why was Seven’s heart beating so fast? It wasn’t the rotting wood and peeling wallpaper along with the bevy of spider webs dangling above that put him on edge. It wasn’t the dust dancing in the ghoulish glow cast from several lanterns or the gloomy symphony of cicadas and crickets seeping in through the broken windows either. Not even the way the house groaned in agony with every footstep was the culprit.

It started when he picked her up from the apartment. For obvious reasons, he had been nominated to escort the lovely party coordinator to the RFA’s night of Halloween fun and spooks. Spooks indeed. From the moment she answered the door, his stomach twisted itself in knots.

Was his brain malfunctioning?

“Or is there haunted house etiquette I’m not aware of?” He put his hands on his hips in a dramatic stance.

“Don’t you think it’s weird there was no one to let us in? You walked in on your own.” She huffed and folded her arms with a pout. The gesture was arguably unbefitting of her princess costume, yet the frilly dress and tiara was perfect for the lovable Princess of the RFA.

Seven shrugged. “Didn’t Jumin pick out this place? He probably wanted something authentic and spoopy. OooOOOOooo~” He wiggled his yellow, gloved fingers to emphasize the spoop factor.

“. . .we could’ve waited for the others.“ Her lips twitched as she muffled a chuckle.

“What?” Seven asked with a suspicious grin.

“You! I can’t take you seriously when you’re dressed like that!” She burst into a fit of giggles. “Why Ronald McDonald of all things?”

Seven guffawed. Her laughter was too contagious. “Cause I wanted to see everyone’s reaction! You think anyone’s scared of clowns? My bet is Zen~” He adjusted his curly, red wig and tugged at his bright, yellow jumpsuit.

“Zen!?” She wheezed.

“Yep. He hates cats, so why not clowns too~?” Seven bared his teeth. “Grrrr~ Fast food clown!” The white paint on his face, red lips and nose, minus the glasses made him look completely different. The RFA wouldn’t know what hit them. “Oh! Oh! Let’s hide and scare ‘em!”

“Alright. I’ll bet you five candies Zen won’t get scared.”

“Oh, you’re on!”

Holding back laughter, they decided to hide in a bedroom. A musty, revolting odor permeated the air. Dusty debris littered the floor and bed, along with fake blood spattered everywhere, most notably on the tattered curtains.

But there was something nostalgic. . .

Seven shook those thoughts away as the two huddled near a dust coated table. A picture frame sat on top of the grime. It held a photo of a woman. Her lips were curved into a coy smile and her eyes glittered. The part that stood out the most was her long, wavy hair. Oddly, she looked similar to the princess next to him.

He was about to point that out, but stopped short when he realized how close she stood, practically pressing against him. He shifted awkwardly, but then flinched and threw his arms around the princess when something slammed, causing her to shriek.

“Whoa! A-are you okay?” His face heated when he realized she clung to him for dear life.

“Was that the door?” She gasped and let go. “Do you think that’s them?”

“Maybe,” Seven whispered, reluctantly scooting back. “Let’s wait and see.”

And wait they did.

And wait.

But nothing happened. “Are they even here?” She murmured.

Seven was starting to wonder why everything was so quiet. Yoosung should have been screaming, while Jaehee would have been constantly checking on Zen.

“Do you want to text them?” He asked.

“Well, my phone’s been acting up, so I don’t know if there’s something wrong with it, and since someone forgot their hoodie.” She cutely huffed. “We can’t use his phone!”

“Hey. . .!” Seven tried to keep his voice down. “This is the first time I’ve been without my lucky hoodie in. . .in. . years!” He put a hand to his heart and let out an agonized sigh. He kept everything in those oversized pockets. “You should still try texting.”

“I guess.” She grabbed her phone, but froze at the sound of a deep groan.

“Why have you returnnnnned?” The lights waned and flickered with every rasping syllable.

The spooks were starting? Seven’s face lit up. Was there a hidden sound system projecting the voice?

A girlish yelp snapped him from his thoughts. “Did you grab me!?”

“Wha-? No!” Seven lifted his hands as proof.

“You’re kidding. . .” Her face paled. “S-something grabbed me! Ugh!” She shimmied past him and stormed out of the room. “I’m done with this stupid creepy house! I’m waiting for the others!” Her voice echoed along with her stomping footsteps.

“Wait!” Seven followed after, scrambling not to trip over his giant red shoes.

She rushed to the front door and yanked the handles, but it wouldn’t open. “I-it’s stuck!”

“Let me.” Seven tried, causing them to shake and rattle, but the door still wouldn’t budge. With a frustrated grunt, he kicked the wood, but still nothing. Chills ran down his spine. This wasn’t right at all.

“I-I’m calling Jumin.” She shakily tapped her phone, and Seven moved closer to hear. The monotone call tone accompanied by her frantic breathing made for a nauseating combination. Seven held his breath, until a click sounded.

“Yes, this is Jumin Han speaking.”

Never in his life had he been happier to hear that deep, robotic voice.

“J-Jumin!” She gasped, voice wavering. “ Where are you guys?”

“I could ask the same question. We just finished purchasing everyone’s admission.”

“What are you talking about!? There were no tickets or anything and now we’re stuck in here!” She replied almost hysterically.

There was a pause and static. “I don’t quite understand. Security would not have let you two in without tickets. You and Luciel are-?”

“Trapped in this crazy house!” Between her frantic words, a static white noise grew louder, overpowering Jumin’s voice.

“Where- ou- ry-“

“Jumin? Are you still there? Jumin!” She nearly sobbed.

The static-filled garble morphed into a cackle. “Sorry, Princess, but the RFA won’t be able to help you this time~” A new voice interrupted with a menacing snicker.

Seven snatched up the phone. “Hey! Who the heck are you, and how do you know about the RFA?”

“Turn around and maybe you’ll find out~” He said before hanging up.

Dread filled Seven as he looked back. A figure stepped out of the shadows, slender and clad in black. His bleached hair glowed in the moonlight like a halo, yet his green eyes were wide and demonic. A mask covered his nose and mouth, but the folds revealed a manic smile underneath. Perhaps the most striking part was the chainsaw he held. With a high pitched cackle, he revved it up.

“If you want all of your limbs intact, you’d both better come with me. Without fighting.”

They had to surrender. The man shut off the chainsaw, but carried it as he led them into a empty room with a couple chairs and a bookshelf on the far wall. He ordered them to sit.

“Did you like my surprise?” Edgy chainsaw man grabbed some rope. “You should have seen your faces~” He cooed, before cracking up. “It was great!” He started with the princess, tying her torso to the chair. “You probably had no idea I hacked your GPS, right?” He moved on to her hands, holding her wrists together before tying them. “I was hoping to get you alone, but no matter.” His hands moved with gentle and skillful care, but Seven hated the way they lingered on her waist and brushed against her skin. The man soon finished and his eyes narrowed into something dangerous as he approached Seven.

“I won’t let you stop me from taking her to Paradise, clown boy.”

Seven held his knuckles together as the rope tightened around him in hopes of being able to get loose later. Anything to make up for his failure in protecting the princess.

“You’re the one who talked in that spooky voice and locked the door?” She snapped, legs shaking.

“Huh?” Their edgy captor tilted his head to the side. “Spooky voice?”

“Yeah,” Seven said. “You were like ooooOOOoo. . .Why did you returnnn or something like thaaaaat. . .”

The man raised an eyebrow before scowling. “You’re both trying to distract me. I’m not stupid, so stop belittling me!” he hissed before digging in his pocket. In an instant, his anger switched to unhinged glee when he pulled out a piece of candy wrapped in black foil. “Trick or treat, Princess~” He unwrapped it, revealing dark chocolate coated with teal frosting. “Now be a good girl and say ‘ahh~’” He cooed, however his eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned closer and pinched the chocolate between his long fingers.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her head away. The man didn’t give up and pushed the chocolate against her mouth. “Nnf!” She whimpered as her lips formed a thin line.

“Hmm…” The edgy man cocked his head. “Don’t be scared. Once you eat this, you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again.”

Seven’s stomach churned.

“Here. We can share~” The man pulled down his mask, revealing a wide smirk. With a snicker, he popped the chocolate in his mouth, holding it between his teeth. He then set a hand on the chair’s arms and the other grabbed her face.

“Hey!” Seven’s blood boiled. “Don’t touch her!”

A muffled snicker escaped the edgy man as he dug his fingers into her cheeks, forcing her mouth open. The corners of his lips twitched into a victorious smirk, and his eyes shut as he leaned in, bringing the chocolate to her mouth.

Nononono! With a panicked grunt, Seven wiggled and jerked, ignoring the burn of the rough braids.

“S-seh-ehn-!” she cried as the gap between her mouth and the chocolate shrank.

Seven’s struggled more as the rope loosened. A smoke bomb could distract the man, then Seven’s knife would cut the remaining ropes. His wrist ripped free! Fueled by adrenaline, he dug into his pocket and flung out-

Candy.

Just like his phone, all of his other trinkets were in his hoodie pockets.

The colorful array of sweets bounced off man’s tattooed shoulder, causing him to pause.. His eyes widened with awe, and the teal chocolate fell from his mouth just as everything went black.

“You dare taunt me with these two mennnnn?” That same voice from before wailed as a blue fireball appeared, casting a ghostly glow.

The princess screamed when her chair tipped backwards and scraped across the floor.

“No!” Seven clawed at the remaining ropes, but to avail. He was useless.

The chair slammed backwards into the bookcase and her legs flailed upwards. “H-h-help mee-ee-eee!” Her shriek came out bumpy as the bookshelf spun, pushing her to the other side with a loud slam.

“Give her back! ” Edgy chainsaw man chased after her, but crashed into the bookcase. “She’s mine!” He pounded and kicked at the wood, causing several books to fall.

The fireball vanished, leaving them shrouded in inky darkness. Seven squinted as his eyes adjusted to the blackness. The edgy man fell to his knees, fingers gripping his hair. Shallow, frantic breaths filled the air.

“Are you. . .afraid of the dark?” Seven whispered.

“No!” The man snapped. Stray strands of moonlight illuminated his pale face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. . .Sav. . .ior. . .” He babbled to himself.

“H-hey.” Seven cleared his throat. “Uh. If you untie me, then we can save her together.”

The man pulled his mask back on before narrowing his eyes. “And why shouldn’t I kill you, clown boy?”

“B-because,” Seven blurted the first thing that came to mind. “You can have all my candy. They’re all limited edition and rare. Don’t ask where I got them!” He was rambling, but needed to survive. For her sake.

The man eyed the candies on the floor. “. . .Fine.”

Chainsaw man cut Seven’s ropes and the two inspected the bookshelf. It was clearly a trapdoor they couldn’t activate. Did it only work with ghosts? “What about your chainsaw?” Seven asked.

“Good thinking, clown boy!” The man’s eyes glowed with violent glee, and with a cheerful snicker, he grabbed his chainsaw and shoved Seven out of the way before revving it. His laughter erupted into manic cackles as he cut into the wood. A cloud of sawdust filled the air while a hole formed and grew. “You messed with the wrong people, ghost!” He kicked down the rest of the wood, revealing a large room with a fireplace. There the captured princess sat, still tied to the chair, but safe.

A frustrated growl came from a willowy shadow bathed in a blue glow. The ghost. “It wasn’t enough for you to leave me for dead, but now you taunt me with these mennn?” He pointed a bony finger at Seven and the chainsaw man. “Perhaps once you suffer and die like I did, I’ll able to move on to the after lifffffe.” A humorless chuckled rumbled as he snapped his fingers. The fireplace erupted to life with an inferno of blue fire.

She gasped and flailed against the ropes when her chair scooted backwards. “No! Please!” Her scream was almost as high pitched as the scape of the chair against the wood.

“No!” Seven barreled past chainsaw man and tackled the chair away from the blazing fires. Pain shot up his knee upon landing, but he didn’t care. “Are you okay!?”

Her chest heaved and her face glistened with sweat, but she smiled and nodded.

Seven’s insides tingled with a fuzzy warmth. “It’s okay now,” he whispered. “You’re safe.” He brushed away a strand of hair from her face, but the buzz of the chainsaw interrupted him. With a wild cackle, chainsaw man swung at the ghost, but stumbled and cursed when the weapon went through the ethereal being.

“I’ve had enough of thisss!” Smoke oozed from the ghost. “If these men will interfere, then so be it!” Several floating fireballs appeared throughout the room, causing the temperature to spike and the air to distort with heat. “I’ll burn down this entire place, taking all of you with me!”

“Please don’t!” Her eyes filled with tears. “This isn’t the answer! But. . . if you want, hurt me instead, not Seven and this other guy. They did nothing wrong!”

Seven’s lungs constricted. Why was she sacrificing herself? She was so kind hearted. Not someone who would abandon anyone.

Not someone like him.

“You’ve got the wrong person!” He shouted. “Your lover left you? That wasn’t her. She’d never do that! From the moment I first met her, she’s been nothing but sweet and caring. She listens to our problems and puts up with a lot of crap like chatrooms at three in the morning! I know without a doubt she’d never abandon or betray anyone!”

Her eyes grew watery as her expression softened. “Please believe me, I’m not who you think I am, but. . .I’m so sorry that happened. No one deserves to go through the pain you did. I-I wish I could help you. . .!” Her voice cracked and her lips quivered.

There was a pause and Seven was sure they were all going to die, but then the flames dwindled one by one. “I see,” the ghost’s voice softened. “Revenge may not be the answer. It’s strange.” He lifted a hand to his chest. “I feel. . .warm? Is this what moving on feels like? I wish I had met someone like you instead of that woman. Perhaps my life would have been much longer and happier.”

Seven’s heart flip flopped.

“Thank. . .you. . .” The ghost faded, leaving the three of them in the dark silence

Not wasting another moment, Seven untied her, before helping her stand. His cheeks burst into flame when she hugged him tightly.

“Thank you so much for saving me!”

Seven returned the embrace. Why was it so hot in here? Slowly, his shoulders relaxed and he squeezed her tighter. “I-I don’t know what I would have done if something happened.”

“Seven,” she whispered as she pulled back.

He got lost in her eyes as their magnetic force tugged him closer. What was this feeling? Was this…? His lips parted and he closed his eyes.

Wailing sirens broke the spell.

Edgy chainsaw man cursed under his breath and shoved his hands into his candy filled pockets. “This is my cue to leave,” he stomped towards the nearest window. However, before he climbed out, he turned and burst into hysterical laughter. “I’ll come back and visit you soon, Princess~”

Seven joined in on the laughter. This edgy dude had a hilarious laugh. “Hey! I hope you visit me too! I’ll have more candy for you- Oh! And Honey Buddha Chips. You’ve gotta try those!”

The man jolted, then shrugged. “I guess you’d make a good Believer too, Clown Boy.” With that, he jumped out of the window as blue and red flashing lights filled the dark room.

“Guess, the cavalry came,” Seven chuckled.

She grinned and nodded. “The real question is if Jumin was the one who sent them. Wanna change our bet to that?”

“No way! I still wanna scare Zen-gwuh!” Seven sputtered in shock when she took his hand and tugged him towards the door with a sweet giggle. His pulse pounded in his ears louder than the sirens and for a split second, he thought he might faint.

“Happy Halloween, Seven~”

A/N: This was really fun to write. Honestly, it had been a lot longer, but I had to cut out several thousand words in order to fit the zine's wordcount;;; Still, I think tightening it was for the better. I also couldn't resist adding Unknown. From the moment I applied to the zine, i knew I wanted to write something with Unknown and a haunted house +_+ The elixir chocolate scene was sjfkdsjfkdsfj yum +_+

Anyways, am I the only one that remembers those old Ronald McDonald cartoons? The 90's ones? That's where I got the title from. Does anyone remember the haunted house episode? Good times lol (Seriously. Let me know if you remember it, because nobody in the zine server did sjflksfjdsjfds)

#halloween zine #halloween #spoopy #seven x mc #707 x mc #707 mysme #unknown x mc #unknown mysme #jumin han #rfa #ronald mcdonald

38 notes · View notes

thedarksideofriverdale · 6 years ago

Text

In Unity, There is Strength Part 3 (Riverdale AU)

A/N: Hello, I’m back. I had part 3 written two days ago, but I kept changing some bits and also been busy with finals. I have been so upset since Kurtz has been confirmed dead with the episode 20 promo, so I’ll let him live in my AU lol. Enjoy!

Masterlist // Guide for Creatures and Packs

XXXX

Zara looked at Kurtz for the first time in a week. After letting him into the pack meeting, he gave no confirmation that he wanted to be a part of it. Not to mention that Jughead and Cheryl were hardly making him feel welcome, despite Kurtz’s non-confrontational stance. Of course, Zara had no authority over the supernaturals in the pack; they make the decisions, not her, even if Archie valued her opinion. In short, Kurtz was a no-show for two pack meetings, which led Archie to believe that the omega was not interested. Kurtz returned Zara’s stare from across the cafeteria, and she looked away quickly. Veronica, sitting on her side, happened to notice the exchange between her and the wolf. “What’s with you and la bête?” Veronica asked, raising a brow. “Nothing, V. He just… confuses me,” Zara said then sighing as she put her chin in her hands. “Please tell me you don’t like him,” Veronica whispered harshly. “Of course not. But, I can be… curious. I just don’t know what he wants to achieve by being an omega. I mean, when your father isn’t destroying Archie’s life, he’s killing omegas. For fun.” Veronica raised a brow at Zara. “I honestly am surprised Daddy hasn’t killed Kurtz yet. He’s the perfect target,” she said nonchalantly. Zara gave a look of astonishment at the bluntness and ate her food in silence until the end of the period. When she had gotten up to clear her tray, she saw Kurtz leaning against door post. “We need to talk,” he said gruffly. Zara, having heard nothing from him in a week, said sure. “What is it?” she asked, clutching her notebook for next period against her chest. “Do you have a lead? You’re supposed to be good at this detective work.” His hands were jittery again. “No, I don’t. There’s absolutely no pattern between a history teacher, a jock, and a werewolf. Or at least, nothing that I can find. They were never associated with each other at all. No clubs, no activities, no common friends, etcetera. If the sacrifices are meant to follow a pattern, I just don’t get it.” Truth be told, Zara was exasperated. For three whole nights, she had been up, checking databases using her mother’s access codes, but absolutely nothing resulted from the sleepless nights. Kurtz let out a deep breath and said, “Meet me after school. Two heads are better than one. Maybe, I’ll be of use to your investigation,” he said with a smirk. He then turned and walked away, leaving Zara to her thoughts. “Why does he want to work with me?” she muttered. She turned the corner and saw Archie at his locker. “I’m sure you heard all of that,” she said, walking up to the redhead. “Z, as much as I don’t trust that guy, he doesn’t have ulterior motives. I can sense that. He smells of fear, stress, and a little sadness as well. I can’t imagine what it feels like to lose a pack. If anything happened to you guys, I think I would lose my goddamn mind,” Archie said, shaking his head. Zara patted his back and said, “You’re never going to lose us, Archie. You’re a good alpha; you will keep this pack safe.” “Zara, it wasn’t Kurtz’s fault his betas died. The Gargoyles were the strongest pack in Riverdale; that’s why they were targeted. If it was the Dark Circle being targeted, we wouldn’t have survived. I only just became an alpha six months ago; Kurtz was more experienced than me to take on the Lodges, and his pack was slaughtered. I hate to say this, but cut Kurtz some slack.” He slammed his locker shut and headed to his next class.

“You want me to meet you where?” Zara asked loudly to the man on the other end of the call. After his confirmation, Zara hung up and threw up her hands in frustration. Jughead saw this as he walked out of the school entrance and gave a small smile. “Someone looks aggravated. What, did someone eat all of the curly fries before you could get them for lunch?” “No!” Zara screamed. Jughead chuckled. “Kurtz asked me to meet him in the old Gargoyle HQ.” “Excuse me?! That drug infested, murderous wolf den? Nope, you’re not going. Ask him to meet you in Pop’s.” “His excuse is that it’s the only place he feels comfortable.” Jughead rolled his eyes at her response. “He tries anything, you call me. Okay?” Jughead said as Zara started walking towards the bus stop. She nodded back at him and ran towards the only bus in the Northside that was willing to cross the tracks. After seven stops, the girl got out of the bus to see a banged-up Camaro parked behind the bus stop. The owner stepped out and gave a tired look to the girl. “You could’ve asked me to drive you,” Kurtz said quietly. “I told you, I’m not gonna step into that car,” Zara said with a laugh. Kurtz started walking, and she followed quite easily since the wolf walks so slowly. After walking a couple of blocks, she finally saw the infamous Gargoyle den. Windows busted, sheets hanging to cover up the inside, door completely unhinged… could they have gone for anything more stereotypical? she thought. Kurtz entered through the ‘door’ and motioned for her to enter. At least it doesn’t smell bad. But, the decrepit place was doing nothing to ease her discomfort. “You can sit on any part of the floor,” Kurtz said before walking into one of the back rooms. Zara looked around the room and saw cobwebs, destroyed walls, and… more cobwebs. The wolf came back quickly, except now with a laptop in his hands. “You own a laptop?” Zara asked, wondering how Kurtz owned a flip phone and an expensive laptop at the same time. “Yes,” he replied angrily. “And you keep it here?” “Yes.” Zara threw up her hands in surrender. “Let’s just move on to what we came here to do. Have you thought about the pattern at all?” she asked, bringing out her laptop. Kurtz scratched the back of his head and started searching. “Jimmy said he used to be part of the history club in his old school. Maybe, that’s the correlation?” “History? Of all things to sacrifice people for, it’s history?” Zara asked annoyed. “No, it’s something else. Maybe, all of them are virgins?” “No.” “Well, great then. Your turn to pitch an idea.” “I have one more thing we could search, but it might be a stretch.” Kurtz started clicking away on his laptop. “Were they ever admitted into the Sisters of Quiet Mercy?” “Those records are accessible now after they shut down, but it didn’t come up in my searches.” “Well, maybe you were searching the wrong thing.” Kurtz pulled up the public records and found the history teacher with his first name and not his last. “Before the place shut down, they altered the records so that the families wouldn’t be affected. They got rid of all last names and only kept the first.” “How do you know that?” Zara asked, only to not receive a response. She scooted over to Kurtz to see his computer. He searched Chuck instead of Chuck Clayton, and the name appeared on the records. Then the history teacher and lastly, he searched Jimmy, and sure enough, there they were. “The pattern is being admitted to the Sisters of Quite Mercy. So, all we have to do is make sure anyone who was admitted there doesn’t get killed,” Zara said excitedly. Then, she thought of Betty and Cheryl. If they’re next... “I am not saving anyone,” Kurtz said, closing his laptop. Zara looked up at him, surprised. “All I wanted was to find out, and you weren’t even necessary in my search. Leave,” he ordered, standing up. Zara stood up quickly. “Are you kidding me? Do you even want to be a better person? I mean, goddamn! You were better as an alpha of a psycho pack than you are now. Don’t you want to redeem yourself?! Maybe, if you save people, Hiram Lodge will get off your back!” she screamed. Kurtz saw the girl’s exasperation and said, “I don’t care about redeeming myself. Unless I get something in return, I won’t help you and your golden pack.” He leaves her to go to the back room again. Zara followed and saw a hole-infested mattress and a dirty desk. She was going in there to yell at him, but looking at the surroundings… “You live here? I thought this was just headquarters…” Kurtz didn’t say anything as he set down his laptop on the desk. “You want something in return, right? What about a place to stay?” He looked at her in surprise. “I’m gonna regret this, but you can… live with me until you get your bearings and find a place of your own. Is that enough payment for your help?” Zara asked. Kurtz cleared his throat and asked, “Isn’t your mom a deputy? How the hell can I stay with you?” “You leave that to me. Will you help or not?” Zara asked, slowly stating each word clearly. Kurtz looked at her for a moment and finally said, “Fine. I’ll help.”

#kurtz #riverdale #kurtzriverdale #kurtzimagine #imagine #werewolf #au #oc #original character #kurtz riverdale #riverdale kurtz #jonathan whitesell #archie #jughead #veronica #veronica lodge #gargoyles

19 notes · View notes

aureumjeon · 6 years ago

Text

Wonderland (M) || JJK || Oneshot

♡Pairing: Jungkook x Reader. ♡AU: Best friends to Lover AU. ♡Genre/Warnings: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF and Smut, Fingering, Oral (Both end receiving) ♡ Word count - 6K

You’ve known Jeongguk for at least 7 years now. And it took you forever to realize that you were truly, madly and deeply in love with your best friend.

(A/N: Go listen to John Mayer’s “Wonderland.” I hope you enjoy this cliched and not so uncommon fic. hehehe I'm sorry if the reader's an insecure mess. I added a few of my personal insecurities so that I can make the story on a more personal and emotional level.)

"What else do we need?" You stated as you pulled the bowl of freshly popped popcorn from the microwave. It was about 3:48 in the afternoon and while you were waiting for Jeongguk, your best friend of 7 years to arrive, you decided to get everything ready for your movie marathon that's held every Friday. You made a mental note of everything you guys might need "Chips? Check. Popcorn? Check. Soda? Check." You arranged all the mentioned items neatly on the surface of the living room table.

"I already ordered pizza which will probably arrive in about a 1 hour. So..." You turned around, now face to face with your long-time enemy, the sofa. "You got this, Y/N." You unhinged the lock at both sides of the furniture and gripped its underside tightly followed by a strong pull "Ahhhh-" You heard the clicking sound that indicated the release of the lock mechanism allowing you to pull it upward then lay it flat. "Not today, sofa." You chuckled and made your way to your room to get your newly washed fluffy cream blanket and matching pillows to go with it.

It was a gift from Jeongguk last Christmas and you found yourselves using it every Friday or whenever Jeongguk decided to sleep over. With much delight and excitement, you delicately made your not-so-appealing 4-year old sofa bed that you promised yourself at least 10 times now that you'd get it replaced once your paycheck arrives, a little bit more comfortable to look at. The two pillows side by side against the backrest and the fluffy blanket perfectly draped over the rest of its structure.

"Y/N!" a voice called out accompanied by the sound of loud knocking filled your small apartment "Sheesh. I'm here!" You shouted while sprinting towards the door unlocking it as fast as you can to avoid disrupting your neighbors. The door sprung open and you were met with an excited Jeongguk. He pulled you into a warm hug and the smell of his body wash immediately invades your nostrils as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Not that you hated it, in fact, you loved how he always smelt like peppermint and cinnamon. Having his arms around you and being completely immersed in his scent gave you a weird feeling, not the bad kind though. You never managed to figure out why it happens, so you just shrugged it off every time thinking to yourself that it was no big deal.

Finally, he released you from the hug and said: "Missed you so bad." And a soft smile made its way on his lips. "I missed you, too." You replied cheeks tinted pink. "What should we watch?" You added while fiddling with the strings of his black puma hoodie. "Whatever you want." He grinned "It's your turn to choose the movie, ya know."

You walked over to the sofa and belly flopped yourself onto the squeaky mattress. Jeongguk noticed that your silk camisole rose a tad bit, exposing the small curve of your back. His eyes widened at the sight of your skin and couldn't help but bite his lower lip. "What are you waiting for?" You stated while patting the empty side of the sofa, gesturing him to come and sit next to you. Your words seemed to knock him back to his senses. "Ah--" there was a pause "Yeah.." His words were faint as he cautiously made his way over to your direction.

"Horror, romance or comedy?" You asked while the remote was in your hand, browsing through the list of movies on Netflix. "Any." He replied, leaning his body against the backrest and making himself comfortable. "This one!" You cheerfully exclaimed, eyes fixed on the TV screen which was frozen to a chick-flick titled "To All The Boys I've Loved Before.". Jeongguk couldn't help but smile seeing this side of yours. "Jimin watched this one with his girlfriend the other day and told me that it was a solid 9/10." You looked at him with serious eyes and added "And Jimin hates romance films." voice low and over-dramatic. Jeongguk bit his bottom lip hard, cheeks puffing out trying to suppress the laughter climbing out of his chest. It was useless though, within a matter of seconds he was uncontrollably wheezing from the lack of air.

There it is, you thought to yourself. A smile crept its way onto your lips. There was a lot of things you like about your best friend; his angelic voice and the way he sings to you every time you go to karaoke; the not-so-funny jokes and puns he makes which he insisted were his, only to find out he got them from his senior, Jin; the funny faces he would make to cheer you up whenever you were down; but among all the things you like about Jeongguk, the way he laughed was your favorite.

The way his eyes disappear into crescent-shaped lines, completely wrinkled at the end. OH. The way his big cute nose would scrunch up in the middle of his face. MY. His The way his two front teeth, resembling those of a bunny, would become more obvious as the smile on his face widens. GOD. That's it. A light switch in your head was turned on. That was all you needed to confirm the feeling boiling inside you whenever you were with him. You couldn't believe that it took you so long to figure it out, after all the things that had been going through your head, only now you realize that you were truly, madly and stupidly in love with your best friend.

It felt like the air was sucked out of your lungs, your blood started to rush to your face. You can feel your cheeks starting to burn under your skin. "Y/N, are you okay?" Jeongguk asked voice laced with concern. You blinked twice looking all confused. "Are you sick?" He looked more flustered with the way you responded to his question and immediately moved a hand on your forehead. "You don't have a fever." He sighed in relief. "My head hurts a bit." You chuckled awkwardly hoping he wouldn't see right through you. "Wasn't able to sleep last night." A tired smile appeared your face.

To your surprise, Jeongguk stood up and carried you in his arms bridal style. "Wait! What are you doing, Gguk?" You shrieked as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hoping not to fall. "Movie's cancelled." He stated, making his way to your bedroom. He gently kicked the door open and entered your room. The moment his knees hit the side of your bed, Jeongguk carefully put you down on the soft mattress. With no hesitation whatsoever, he hovered himself over you, face dangerously close to yours and laid down on the other side of the bed. You tried to hide the fact that you were freaking out, on the inside at least "What about the movie?" You whined arms crossed and faced your back towards him.

He smirked and cocked an eyebrow at your child like attitude. "Meh" Jeongguk replied, his hands tracing over the curve of your hips. His movements sent shivers down your spine and core. You closed your eyes and held your breath, wishing for whatever he was doing to end. It didn't. It only got worse. His hand was now on your stomach, caressing it. Your eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets when he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you closer to him. Your back was now pressed against his chest, butt merely inches away from his manhood and you pray to God that he doesn't feel your heart rapidly beating inside your rib cage. "I like this better anyway." He added, warm breath dancing behind your ear as he drowned himself with the scent of your shampoo, burying his face in your soft locks.

"Y/N..." He hummed. "W-- What?" Your words were broken, voice slightly agitated. "I love the way you smell.." He pulled you closer again, this time you were glued to each other. Your clothes were the only thing separating you from touching skin to skin. And with that, your breath hitched a new height and your mouth went dry. This wasn't new to you and surely this wasn't the first time you were in the same bed with your best friend.

In fact, you've done it plenty of times. Too many to count, frankly speaking. Sleepovers, parties and even family vacations, you two were inseparable, always wanting to be together every chance you had since both of you were 11 years old. Knowing your true feelings for Jeongguk now, made it more complicated. Before it was just about having fun and enjoying the company of a friend but now there were more hidden intentions behind every moment to come.

"Jeongguk..." You wiggled your body, trying to loosen his hug, sucks for you he only tightens it more after your attempt of breaking free. "Heyyy...." He giggled "Stop squirming, Y/N... You're not a worm." He joked. You sighed loud enough so that he can here. "What's wrong? I thought you were tired." He purred. "I am.. But..." You paused, trying to come up with an answer. "But what?" Jeongguk asked, his right hand now wedged between your thighs. Fuck, you screamed in your thoughts. The feeling of his hands on your skin was electrifying. Shock waves were coursing through your veins, sending signals to your core. The way your underwear was sticking to your folds was extremely troubling. There's no way in hell that you would reach down your shorts and fix your underwear while Jeongguk was beside you.

You were fucking embarrassed at the way he got your panties soaked without even doing anything sexual. "I need to... to go the bathroom.." You insisted but Jeongguk was too stubborn to let go of you. "No." he hissed, squeezing your thigh. "Stop it...." you pouted. The more he touched you, the more aroused you get. "You're making me feel uncomfortable..." You finally managed to spit it out. Jeongguk was actually shocked with your words, it felt like betrayal coming from you. He abruptly broke off from the hug. "What?" He questioned, holding himself up with one arm. You can feel his presence linger over you. You made sure that you will not turn around because you fucking bet that your face was red as hell and you didn't want Jeongguk to see you in this kind of state.

"Y/N.." Jeongguk called out, voice cracked and he seemed like he was on the verge of tears. You wanted to turn to him, to look at him, to comfort him but you yourself weren't in the best state to do so. "Did I do something wrong?" He added. "No.. You did nothing wrong, Gguk." You lightly chuckled, trying to lift up the mood. "It's all me." You assured him. "You don’t have to worry about a thing. I'm sorry if I ruined the mood but today isn't really a good day. You can go home if you want. I can take care of myself." You concluded as you felt a lump in your throat when you spoke those words to him. Jeongguk's face was dazed. He thought of all the time you were together, trying to figure out what went wrong. He nit-picked every puzzle piece but none of them seemed to fit. Everything was perfect. Your relationship was perfect. You barely had fights, you almost agreed on everything besides the "does pineapple go with pizza" kind of shit, but other than that there was nothing he could come up with that would cause this sudden fall out between the two of you. He was utterly silent, he couldn't think of something to say. What if the words he says next would make things worst? What if he's hard hardheadedness makes you more upset with him? He didn't want to risk anything. He didn't want to risk losing you.

"Okay.." He mumbled under his breath. "I'll guess I'll go. Sorry." He slowly stood up from the bed, smoothing the creases of his hoodie. "See you." was the last thing he said before exiting your room. The moment he stepped out of your room was the moment a wave of guilt crashed over you. Jeongguk didn't deserve to be treated this way. He doesn't deserve to be stood up like this just because you couldn't come clean with your feelings. A good friend was all that he has been to you. No, Actually he was the Best. He has been always by your side, from your first heartbreak to celebrating your first job, Jeongguk was there. No matter how busy he was, heck, even when he was in a relationship, he would always make time for you. And you were sure that you'd the same for him. And acting like a fucking brat is the exact opposite.

You crawled out of your bed as fast as you can, hoping the boy was still on the premises of the apartment. Quickly, you walked out of your room just in time to call out to him before he leaves through the door. "Ggukie." Was the nickname you gave him when you first met. He wasn't fond of it when other people call him that but when it's you, he surely doesn't mind. You took small steps towards him with your head faced down. Jeongguk literally looked like a deer caught in the headlights with the way his eyes were filled with shock, mouth slightly agape. "I thought you wanted me to leave.. " He sounded so sad and disappointed. You never thought that you, of all people, would ever make Jeongguk feel this way. Seeing him like this felt like a knife stabbed you through the heart. "I need to tell you something." You stated while pulling his hand, guiding him back to your room. He did not complain or contradicted, he simply obeyed and follow you. Once you were bad in the room you shut the door and said: "Sit down."

He was still shaken up with the whole ordeal and remained quiet. You sat beside him and pick up his hand, pulling it closer to you and locked your fingers together with his. Jeongguk was mute the entire time, you knew he was like this. Whenever you had something to share or something to rant about, he would not speak or interfere. He would only listen. You didn't know why but he has always been that way. Because for him, seeing the way you light up when you tell him about the little things that happened to you that made you happy, made him happy too. And the way you'd pour your heart out whenever you were broken made him want to give you a piece of himself so you could put yourself back together again. But you didn't know because Jeongguk himself was quite hesitant to say anything, he didn't want to ruin the relationship he had with you with his own selfishness.

"Jeongguk.." You paused "I've known you since forever and I just...." Tears were forming in your eyes, your vision became blurry. The feeling of Jeongguk's hands holding yours tightly gave you comfort and strength to push through. "Just don't want to lose you.." Beads of water fell from your eyes and landed onto Jeongguk's hand. He wanted to say something but held himself back because he wanted to hear what you wanted to say first. "Promise me, whatever I say today won't change the way were are now." Your voice was barely there and he simply nodded in response. "I think I love you, Jeongguk. I know I shouldn't---" Your words were stopped by the boys figure pulling you into the tightest hug. "Huh????" You were bewildered by his sudden response. "Jeongguk?" You said, lightly tapping his shoulder. "I love you too, Y/N."

Your eyes shot open at his words. "What?" You question him again. He pulled away from the hug just enough to see your tear-stained face. Both of his hands made its way to your cheeks, wiping away any more wetness it could find. "I said, I love you TOO." Your brain couldn't process anything right now. If there were flies in your room right now, they would have surely made a home in your mouth that's hanging wide. "You love me too?" You asked, still not believing his words. He just shook his head with a shit eating grin on his face. "How many times do you want me to say it?" He chuckled as he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. "I love you, a lot." He hummed. "For the longest time, too." He smiled from ear to ear. You were flabbergasted with the revelation unfolding before your eyes. "Hmmmm. Really?" You were skeptical "What happened to the girl you were dating a while back?" Your words were doubtful. "Didn't work out." He shrugged his shoulders "None of them did." He let himself get lost in your warmth again as he placed his head on your shoulder and continued "When I realized my feelings for you, I held myself back as best as I could cause I knew that this was a one-sided love kinda thing." A soft smile surfaced from his lips "I tried to date other girls but it didn't work out because they weren't you. I can't believe a day like this would come." He faced you, eyes glittering from euphoria.

There was no more word said after that, only the sound of your lips crashing onto one another. The sound of hungry, needy and desperate kisses echoed in your room. Dominating you were Jeongguk’s wet and sloppy kisses filled with the intent to devour you whole. "You don’t know how much I wanted to kiss you." He moaned through your lips and with that, you replied a whine urging him to continue. His soft and plumped lips tasted like candy, insanely sweet. The flavor was completely whimsical, something you haven’t tasted before. Every contact leaves you wanting more. You've had your fair share of kisses before but this, this was the first that you felt completely drowned in the sensation of kissing itself. None of the boys you kissed before Jeongguk made you feel this way. You thought it couldn't get better than this but boy, you were completely wrong.

Another inexplicable feeling knocked you out again. The way his tongue danced with yours was truly spectacular, every move it made somehow synchronized with yours. As the saying goes, it really does take two to tango. You sucked at his wet muscle every time it went past your teeth. You couldn't help yourself but sank your teeth into it. Luckily, Jeongguk did not mind you biting his tongue, oddly enough it felt like bubble gum. The kissing continued for at least a few more minutes before Jeongguk finally snapped. In his thoughts, kissing wasn't enough. He needed to taste you; he needed to feel your body against his; he needed to be inside you.

He pushed you further until your back hit the headboard. He licked a stripe over the line of your jaw, first peppering your neck with light kisses then sucking harshly at your flesh, to which purple marks bloomed immediately. Jeongguk stared at the bruise proudly and said: "It's only right to mark my territory." You simple laughed and swatted his arm. He chuckled and playfully said, "Better than peeing on you." Stunned by his words you jokingly flicked his forehead and stated: "Way to ruin the mood!". He rubbed the area of his forehead and insisted "I mean, it's not my thing but if that's what you're into maybe----" You stopped him just in time before he could say any more disgusting stuff and dragged him back to your neck. His lips automatically did what they were meant to do.

He nipped at your collarbone with his teeth, forcing you to bit down on your lower lip. Occasionally adding a few licks here and there. He held onto the hem of your camisole and pushed it upward, only to be stopped by you. "Wait.." You shyly stated. "What's wrong, baby?" He questioned your actions. "It just that... Most of your past girlfriends were well-endowed and..." you gestured over to your small physique emphasizing on your minuscule breast "I'm a sold 4/10, heh." His smile turned into a frown after hearing what you just said. He held both of your hands, cradled it with his and said "Baby. I don't want you comparing yourself to anyone." His voice soft and assuring. "Especially my exes." He combed his fingers through your hair and went on saying "It was just pure coincidence that a few of them were well-endowed. I swear I don’t really have a preference when it comes to dating. And, none of them worked out. Wanna know why?" He paused, waiting for some kind of response from you "I guess I never truly loved them the way I love you. Maybe I was only looking for someone to help me get over you." He smiled. "What you are today, what you are tomorrow and what you will be in 10 years.. I love and will love all of it. Y/N, I love you." Jeongguk kissed your knuckles one by one. "No more comparing okay? You're the only one I want and the only one for me."

He gripped your top again, successfully taking it off you. He marveled at the sight of your bare body. Eyes taking in every bit of detail, savoring the glorious moment. His line of sight flickered up and down. "I'll make you feel good with my hands. Trust me, okay?". You simply nodded. His hands gently caressed your face before moving down to your chest. His hand ghosted above your hardened nubs, when you felt his touch merge together with your skin, you quickly melted like putty in his grasp. His touch was warm and endearing, the one that can lull you to sleep if he wanted too.

Your anxiety flew out the window the moment he touched you. You weren't scared or intimidated anymore. You felt safe; you felt secured under his ministration. You breath heaved high and low as his lips kissed your erect nipples. With one hand, he kneaded one breast it slowly while he sucked on the other. You felt like you were floating in the air, wind brushing against your body. He wanted you to feel confident about your body so he made sure that you were well taken care of. Not just physically, mentally too.

You hands magically found itself tangled with his soft black locks, coaxing him to indulge more. He pulled away and placed both of his hands back on you mounds, drawing tiny circles around the areola, making you giggle. He took the nubs and played with it with his thumb and index finger. You tried your best not to make any noise and it was written all over your face. "No need to hold it in, baby. Let me hear you moan. I bet you sound so good when you say my name." He encouraged you well enough for you to release a sweet moan from your lips. The sound of your vulnerable voice made all the blood in his body rush to his member, now visibly erect underneath his sweatpants. "Jeongguk-ah~" You hummed with your eyes shut, enjoying the way he uses his hands. Every touch was filled with magic, spell after spell, drawing you deeper and deeper into an enchanted trans-like state.

He hummed back while his hands slid down to the hem of your silk shorts. As much as he loved seeing you wear these matching camisole top and short shorts that always turned him on, he would love it more if it were on the floor. He took his time sliding the clothing at each end making sure to engrave this very moment in the confinement of his brain and label it as the greatest moment of his entire existence. When the piece of clothing inched closer to your feet, you jammed your thighs together. "Hmmmm." Jeongguk whirred, cocking an eyebrow at you while throwing the silk shorts on the ground. Your juice soaked panties were the only thing on you right now.

He massaged both of your thighs with his manly hands. You hadn't noticed it before, but Jeongguk hands were really pretty. His fingers were long and slender, knuckles had a slight pink undertone to it partnered with nails that were shaped beautifully. His hand running up and down your flesh made you shiver and caused goosebumps to emerge from your skin. "Jeongguk.." You moaned out his name, and he swore that it was the sexiest thing he has ever heard. "Baby, open up." He cooed "Don't be shy. Show me how wet you are for me." He purred and you obeyed.

You carefully opened your legs together, looking at Jeongguk’s reaction. The moment you had your legs spread wide open for Jeongguk to see, he hissed out a faint "Fuck.." and ran a finger up the soaked area of the cloth. "You're drenched. Is this all for me?" He asked. You nodded as your cheeks were hued a light red. It made Jeongguk's insides twist and turn at the image of you totally soaked from the arousal he caused. His chest swelled up with confidence, ego boosted up a few steps higher. A spark ignited a flame in his stomach and before you knew it, he had already ripped off the last piece of clothing on you and helped himself. He was now lapping up your juices with his tongue.

Squelching wet sound filled the air each time his mouth met with your core. He kissed your left fold then the other, making sure he was giving each fold the same amount of attention it needed. Your clitoris was caught between his teeth, you let out a gasp at the action. He sucked on it like there was no tomorrow and caused you to throw your head back in pleasure. "Aaaahhhhhhh---" you cried out in complete ecstasy.

Your legs were uncontrollably shaking, breaths heavy, feeble moans that were smooth like syrup dribbled pass your lips. Just by looking at the mess you are now, Jeongguk knew that you were already at your limit and that you'd be screaming his name while seeing stars. He inserted two curled fingers in your center, pumping it at a slow pace. Jeongguk was trying to locate your sweet spot by twirling his index and middle finger inside you, and at the same time he was stretching you out so you can fully take in his hard cock. Your velvet walls were clenching around him when he finally found your G-spot. "Right... there...." You voiced out, desperate to find release. He positioned himself on top of you, fingers still inserted, and left a chaste kiss on your forehead. His speed quickens, the lewd sound got louder. You heard ringing inside your ears and pressed your hands on his chest. Grabbing a fistful of his hoodie, you were pulling at it while the exhilarating sensation traveled from your head to your toes, and back again. "Come for me, baby." He whispered lips near your ear. "I-- 'm.." You mewled. Your walls clenched even tighter around his fingers and after what felt like forever, you managed to cum. Jeongguk was sure to keep his digits inside you until you rode down from you high. Your juices seeped out from the sides of your opening and dripped down onto the bed. He pulled out his fingers out which was coated in slick, glistening, viscous liquid.

He put his digits in his mouth and licked your juices clean off. "You taste so good, baby." He then proceeded to remove his hoodie from his body which revealed his masculine and toned frame. You simple gawked at the sight of him bare, mouthwatering. His 6-pack was a work of art, well defined and breathtaking. "You like what you see?" He snickered, with a dirty smirk on his face. "This ain't even the main spectacle." "Are you ready to see all of me, Y/N?" Jeongguk slid both of his thumbs under the garter of his sweatpants and dragged it down at a tortuously sluggish pace. Beads of sweat formed at your temples in anticipation. "Oh my." You gasped while his hard member sprang free, slightly tapping his abdomen. You kinda knew Jeongguk was big, but not this big. You stood there utterly amazed at how hard and big he was. The tip was red and swollen, spilling out droplets of precum. His shaft was thick, as thick as your wrist even, angry with its veins popping out. You looked at Jeongguk with honest eyes, eyes filled with desire. He knew exactly what you wanted.

"Go." He said, pulling you upright. You reached out to touch his throbbing member. He instantly jerked when he felt himself in the palm of your hands. It was warm, thick and hard, and you can't wait to feel it inside you. But before any of that, you wanted to make Jeongguk feel good, just like the way he made you feel a while ago. You started pumping his shaft at a slow and steady rate, warming it between your fingers and palm. A low moan escaped from his lips. Your movements caused him to tilt his head back in satisfaction. Seeing Jeongguk come undone before you, by you more so, urged you to take in his member whole. A guttural moan came from Jeongguk as he felt his cock buried deep inside your mouth. "Damn, baby " He panted, looking like a complete mess.

You swirl your tongue inside your mouth, brushing it against him. You hollowed your cheeks and started bobbing your head up and down, pushing even deeper after every stroke until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat. You felt yourself gag at his length and eyes sting when tears started to fill it. Jeongguk was totally out of his mind from the immense pleasure you were providing him. "You frustrate me so much, do you know that, Y/N?" He grabbed your hair and formed it into a makeshift ponytail, encouraging you to move faster. You placed both hands on either side of his hips, gaining more leverage to increase your speed. Wanton moans were quick to leave Jeongguk's mouth as you sped up your movements. The thought of him spilling his seeds in your mouth was tempting, but he only had one vision in mind. And that was to fuck you balls deep onto the mattress while you scream his name.

"Y/N.." He whined, rubbing your face. He looked at you with hooded eyes. "I wanna.. " His was out of breath and looked so sexy with his hair stuck to his forehead. "I-- I wanna come inside you... " You simply nodded and turned around, positioning yourself on all fours, displaying your cunt and all of its wet glory. The coldness of the sea of blankets beneath you relaxed your body. Jeongguk can see your reflection from the mirror beside your dresser, there was something about the way your hair falls in your face that gets him all riled up. He grits his teeth while palming himself "I can't, you look so good that it fucking hurts." Jeongguk reached his boiling point and growled at you. He hastily positioned his dick directly in front of your dripping core. He swiped his dick along your slit, lubricating it with your juices so it can easily slip in and provide a more smooth transition.

"You good?" He asked, pushing the head of his cock a few centimeters in. "Y-yeah." You hummed with a small nod. "Uhhh--" left your lips as you felt him stretch you out deliciously. "God, you're so tight, Y/N.." He mewled while your walls hugged his member. "Did you ever get this tight for someone else?" He huffed through his nostril. The feeling of him finally inside you was unreal. The way his cock filled your insides wholly made your senses go haywire. "N-no."With your entire body drowning in bliss, giving a one-word reply was hard enough as it is. "Ggukie.." You pleaded, voice weak. "Fuck me..." you whimpered. "What did you say?" Jeongguk teased while casually moving his hips to and fro. "I can't hear you, Y/N. You need to sp---" You cut his word short "Fuck me! Fuck me hard until I can't feel my legs!" You exclaimed. He slapped your ass cheek with his hand which caused you to jolt. "That's what I'm talking about." He stated while rubbing the area he hit. His maneuvered his body just right so he can place his other hand around your chest, keeping you upright. Because he knows that after he's done with you, you won't be able to feel your arms and legs.

He kissed the back of your neck and said "You're mine, Y/N... All mine." With no warning, he drilled your pussy hard and deep. Every move was precise and calculated. His member slipped in and out of you with ease, thanks to enough foreplay. Without it you'd be crying in pain instead of pleasure because of his size. Jeongguk was without a doubt the biggest you've encountered. Maybe that was the reason nobody has ever filled you the way Jeongguk did. He held onto your hips and threw another explosive thrust your way. "Jeongguk!" You cried out, chanting his name religiously as he continued at the same pace. You're nailing were digging into the white sheets of your bed as he continued fucking the life out of you. You can feel him hitting you in all the right places. Your body felt surges of electricity every time his cock pushed further in you, digging deeper into you. His grip on you never loosened, he made it sure that you were in his arm all the while he was making love to you. Because for him, just fucking isn't enough, for you at least. Sex wasn't just lips against lips or body against body. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to make you feel a certain way that nobody has ever made you feel. He didn't just want to touch you, he wanted to touch you.

He pulled out of you for a second which caused you to whine at the feeling of emptiness. He flipped you on your back and pushed your hair out of your face. "I wanna see your face when you cum on my dick." His voice was deep and sultry. You bit your lip while in a state of complete awe, admiring a sweaty Jeongguk towering above you. He placed a hand over your pelvis and rubbed your clit with his thumb. His ministrations made you curl your toes and moan out his name. With his knees, he pushed your legs further apart, readying himself to enter you again. "Jeongguk...." You pleaded. "I want to cum..." And so did he. He then penetrated you once again, the feeling of him filling you was one you'd never forget. Now, the accuracy of his movements seemed to falter by the second. Every thrust becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel yourself nearing the end, your body was convulsing, sweat dripping out of every pore on your skin and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "Y/N... I'm close.." Jeongguk exhaled. He leaned closer to you, body just inches away. He intertwined his fingers with yours and kissed the tip of your nose. "I love you.."

There it was, your release. You exhaled deeply as your walls wrapped around his length, juices dripping out of the corner of your core. He managed to do a few more strokes before following your lead. You can feel his cock spilling out his seeds inside you, It made you feel warm. His hips slowly grinding both of your highs out. "That was amazing.." He hummed in satisfaction, still catching his breath. He rolled over, now laying next to you. His eyes met yours, gaze filled with happiness. "Your all mine, right?" He asked. "Yeah." You replied with the softest smile written on your face.

END

I will proofread and edit tomorrow. Thank u.

523 notes · View notes

ryik-the-writer · 6 years ago

Photo

Chapter 20: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 2

[A03]

Previous Chapters

Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy

Chapter 2: Scars (Felixâ€™s Story)

Chapter 3: Day One

Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies

Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars

Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress

Chapter 7: Operation Spotless!

Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down

Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil

Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake

Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1

Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2

Chapter 13: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 3

Chapter 14. Recovery

Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more

Chapter 15: Trapped

Chapter 16: Fairydust pt. 1

Chapter 17: Fairydust pt. 2

Chapter 18: Fairydust pt. 2

Chapter 19: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 1

God it felt good to write this after a three-month long writers’ block :P Also, first update of the year. Not bad :PP

P.S. It takes less than two days to perform an autopsy but the time the report gets out differentiates. It can be a few days to, as I’ve learned, months.

For fic convenience, it was a couple of hours :p

P.P.S Still depressed, slightly more financially stable, still hopeful for the future. I hope you are all the same.

-,-,-,-,-,-,-

16-year-olds had no business walking the streets at night.

Then again, the closest thing to danger in Storybrooke, Maine was when Leroy Miner had too much and sang off-key through the streets.

Pan was disgusted that he knew that. He’d been in the overly quiet town for nearly a month, and had grown uncomfortable there, yet comfortable enough that he had no qualms about walking the streets at night like he would in Scotland.

He exited the Dark Star pharmacy with a playful frown and an Apollo bar in his pocket, unpaid for. Mr. Clark had been too busy sneezing to notice.

With a low hum he unwrapped the candy, breaking one of the corners off and slipping the light chocolate into his mouth. He shoved the rest into his pocket next to the long-handled screwdriver he’d brought with him.

The walk to the convent was short. He could walk across the entire town in less than twenty minutes. Some still and very quiet sleuthing helped him find the head nun’s car, the very car the wicked woman had thrown Tink La’Belle into just that afternoon.

Pan didn’t know either one of them, nor did he know the blonde stud that had tried to rip the car door off when the nun drove away. But he had seen them around school, even had a class or two with the boy.

What he saw today however revealed all he needed to know about them.

They needed a savior.

First step was to plant the seeds of gratitude in their heads.

He eased carefully towards the car, looking over his shoulder every few seconds as he unraveled the rest of the Apollo bar and broke off one of the symmetric squares.

“Enjoy car trouble bitch.” Pan hissed as he unhinged the fuel cap and dropped the sugary squares into the tank one by one. He smirked with each plop of the chocolate into the gas tank. Who said revenge didn’t pay?

“What are you doing?”

Pan froze, his mind stilling as his scrapping instincts kicked in. Peter Pan never got caught, not in Scotland, and certainly not in Storybrooke fucking Maine.

The young teen turned slowly. Before him was a young woman, small and mousy in her convent clothes, and judging by the fidgeting of her hands, very nervous to be before him.

Pan dulled his grin. He could use her fear.

“Evening,” he greeted, his breath intertwining into the cool night air.

“T-that’s Mother Superior’s car.” The woman said.

“I certainly hope so,” Pan chuckled. “Otherwise I’m going to have to get another candy bar.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped forward, his blood tingling in anticipation when the young woman curled into herself.

“Please,” she gasped. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Pan shrugged. “That’s something we have in common. I plan to finish what I have to here and go home. You can just walk away, and as far as anyone will know, you were never here.”

“I…you shouldn’t…”

Pan took her moment of conflict to examine her. She had to be only a few years older than Tink, and much less lively than the 17-year-old.

Mother Superior must have already broken her spirit.

“She’s hurting someone I know,” Pan told her. “She’s hurting her the same way she’s hurt you,” he held up his hand when she began to stutter in retaliation. “I’m simply giving her something to focus on so that she can be free.” He watched her eyes wavered and saw what he needed.

Seeds of gratitude.

“You’d like to be free too, wouldn’t you? From her?”

That was it. The seeds were planted and fertilized with the hate buried deep in her eyes.

Pan could have easily sent her away. He could have done the act alone and reveled in his own demise.

Yet, when Pan reached into his pocket for his smuggled screwdriver, the handle cool against his heated palm. This time when he approached the young nun, she didn’t flinched.

He reached down and took hold of her dainty, clammy hand.

He hadn’t had such contact with a person in so long.

He unclenched her fingers and wrapped them around the handle, his eyes never leaving her confused, heated gaze.

“I…what are you—”

“Help me.” He suggested. Peter Pan didn’t need help, but he needed followers.

In this young woman he could have his first one.

The seeds were planted.

“I…I can’t—”

“Yes you can.” Pan stated forcefully, leading her up to the car. “What’s your name?”

The young woman swallowed, not knowing that once Peter Pan had her identity, he had her all.

“A-Astrid.”

“Astrid,” Pan chuckled. It was such a strong name for such a timid woman. “Astrid, I want you to take this,” he emphasized by tightening his grip on her clasped hands. “And rip her tires a part.”

“No.” Astrid hesitated. Pan was losing his grip.

“Yes.” Pan said firmly. “She’ll never stop unless we put a sense of fear in her.”

“But…it’s a sin—”

“It’s retribution.” Pan snarled, his heart racing. Adrenaline was his greatest foe and best friend. “I can see it in your eyes. Every humiliation, every moment she made you question yourself.”

There was something else there, of course. Past the pain and the temperate hate was a gentle flutter of devotion, of love.

“She’s keeping you from someone, isn’t she?”

He didn’t need for her responsed; it was obvious that there was romance somewhere in the crestfallen woman’s life, same as there was in Tink’s.

“Why not make her pay for it?”

Astrid blinked, so conflicted, so wanting to do the right thing, to turn away.

But it was too late for any of that. A single moment in Pan’s presence and she was already tarnished.

“I’ll start.” Pan winked, pulling out his house key (Gold was going to be pissed). In a swoop he plunged the key into the aged paint and created a screaming line.

Astrid watched, flinching at the sound.

Pan howled with laughter when the key slipped, a deep silver scar in his wake, the first of his night-long abuse. He turned to the stunned woman, the screwdriver still clutched in her shaking fingers. She needed a release, a way to make Mother Superior pay for the pain she had afflicted onto her, on to all of her sisters inside the convent.

Perhaps this would solve nothing, and would only succeed in buying her and Tink a day, or even just a couple of hours, of peace.

Pan didn’t care either way. This was just a small tiptoe onto his path for dominance.

And now, he had his first follower.

“Your turn.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Wendy awoke in terror when she heard someone jimmying her apartment lock. It had been so quiet last night that she was certain that her days of being terrified in her new home were over.

Now however, it would seem that the demons that had followed her from her misadventures were literally trying to break back in.

Wendy rolled off her couch and made a quick getaway to the connected kitchen, chastising herself on such an idea as sleep left her.

“Demons don’t exist, but robbers certainly do!” she scowled as she armed herself with a skillet. Whoever was about to come through her front door was alive and well and fixing to get a well-sized knot on their head for breaking into her flat!

The lock clicked and the door opened quickly, a hand reaching in to turn on the light. Wendy was momentarily blinded and held her breath so that she could hear the intruder coming in.

“Morning.” The intruder greeted, and Wendy’s hair immediately stood on end.

“Pan!” she shrieked, blinking rapidly. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment? It’s 2 a.m.!”

“Oh you know, visiting, checking everyone’s water pressure,” he closed the door with his heel. “Nice underwear by the way.”

Wendy’s cheeks lit in flame and she made a dash to her bedroom for proper clothing, having stripped down sometime around midnight without care of pajamas.

She glared at his smirk when she reentered.

“Guess now we’re even.” He winked, and Wendy flinched at his audacity and the memory of finding him post-coital yesterday morning.

How could he be so peppy after all the devastation he had caused?

“Get out.” She growled.

“Look,” he laughed. “I came to—”

“I don’t care why you’re here!” she screamed so loud she was certain her neighbors could here. “I want you to get the fuck out!”

“Wendy—”

“You’re a sociopath!” Wendy continued. “You have no soul, no sense of humanity in the least! You don’t care about the life you’ve just ruined despite how it’s the life of your friend!”

Pan’s stare was hard as diamonds, inshatterable. Once again Wendy couldn’t tell what he was thinking, let alone feeling. Except for the anger. She could always tell now when he was angry. He’d stare ahead, his lips pressed in a shapeless pink line, his hands clenching something, restraining.

She acted the same way.

“You done?” he inquired chastely.

“With you.” She retorted, stalking around him to the door. Before she could reach for the knob Pan took hold of her wrist.

“Listen to me.” He ordered. He didn’t have time for niceties.

“Let go!” Wendy fought, clawing at his hand.

He grabbed her arm, pinned it to her side and forced her back. Her leg came up and caught him on his thigh, narrowly missing his groin. He managed to restrain her swaying arms before pinning her to the door.

“I’m trying to help you!”

“Go to hell!” Wendy screamed as she stopped struggling and dug her nails into his wrists. “You are the last person I need anything from! You should be worried about yourself!”

“I always am.” He hissed, pressing into her shoulder until she stilled.

“Get off me!”

“Five minutes.” He demanded (because Peter Pan did not beg for anything—even when he was reaching a dangerously high level of desperation).

Wendy pushed him back, sending him stumbling into the arm of her chair. She rubbed her hands over her bathrobe and face, feeling shaky.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” She croaked, clutching her robe tightly.

Pan could have apologized. In fact he had the natural decency to want to. Yet there were more pressing matters.

He was in charge. He was feared. And when Wendy made no threat to kick him out again, he jumped in.

“I just got word from Lily,” Pan explained quickly. “Mother Superior’s death may have not been a suicide.”

Wendy blinked, the information sinking into the knot of guilt buried in her chest.

“How do they know?”

“Time stamp doesn’t match up. She died just after you left her and before the paper was printed.”

Wendy felt the guilt that had been resting inside her shrink into a wee flaming dot that may never die out.

“How exactly did she…”

“Die? Croak? Expire? It’s not that hard to say.” Pan snorted, climbing over the arm into the seat, crossing his legs and placing unceremoniously on the coffee table. “Don’t be so damn prudent.”

Wendy stalked over and slapped his legs off her furniture.

“If you want anything, you need to give me straight answers!” Wendy shouted. “What happened to her!”

“Keep it down.” Pan hissed. “Last thing I need is your nosy neighbors waking up and ease dropping. Or god forbid—”

“Pan!”

“The coroner’s labeling it an overdose with suspicion of foul play.”

Wendy gasped. “Suspicion? They don’t know?”

“Tink and some of the nun’s are vouching for her immortal innocence,” Pan said with a roll of his eyes. “With that, all the evidence is pointing to foul play.”

“Foul play from who?” Wendy pondered.

Pan gave her a knowing look, watching as she paled in realization.

“They think it was me.”

Pan snorted, though the humor didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“You were the last person to see her alive.” Pan explained with a humorless shrug.

Wendy paused, Pan’s words slowly singing through as an intense wave of fear and anger washed over her.

Pan sighed and stood. “Look, I know a way out of this…” he paused when Wendy advanced towards him, her stance as limber as a prowling lioness.

“They’re after me even though you caused all of this in the first place!” Wendy yelled, pushing him away. “You took something that could have helped two people and you crushed it to dust!” she hastily wiped her eyes. “Now a woman is dead and the other…” Wendy stepped away, mourning her lost friendship.

Pan growled irritably. Of course she would bring that up.

“I didn’t come here to discuss the theory of cause and effect, I came here to get your assistance.”

“What could you possibly want my help with?”

“Assistance.” He specified with a hiss. “I don’t need help from anyone. Ever.”

“Oh whatever.” Wendy scoffed. “Get on with it.”

“We can find out what happened, who killed her, and stop this from getting any more out of hand.”

“Feeling repentant, Pan.” Wendy sneered.

Pan curled his hands to his side.

“I regret nothing because she got what she deserved.”

“Did Tink?” Wendy snarled. “Did she deserve to have her life obliterated.”

Pan rolled his eyes, turning back to the door so that Wendy couldn’t see the destress in his features.

“She deserved to know the truth, and the truth hurts more often than naught.”

Wendy blinked away tears. They would be lost on the heartless man before her.

She felt like she was caught in a never-ending twister. She just kept circling into nothingness while the world around her was picked up and destroyed right at her feet.

Pan was that storm—uncaring of the damage around him. And for whatever reason, he chose to suck her in the middle of it all.

The young journalist sighed, the silence helping her think, helping her decide what she wanted to do.

She could go with Pan now and follow his lead, solve this thing and work on earning the town—and more importantly Tink’s—respect back.

Or she could turn herself in now until the investigation ended. Her family had a good lawyer in London. It would mean the end of her career in Storybrooke or in general, but it would be a small price to pay for all of this to stop.

She stepped up to Pan, her decision resting on her tongue.

She wondered briefly just how and when he got so cynical, and wondered if she would become the same if she continued to follow him down the dark road.

He turned to face her, his indifferent mask back in place, his eyebrow arched as he awaited her response.

With his eyes on her it was hard just to let him go. She recalled their more gruesome adventures and how—somehow, even when Death had their names carved in stone—they somehow made it out okay.

They somehow—even know with blood soaking unjustified on her hands—had somehow built up a strange sort of respect with one another.

He was the storm, and if he was going to suck her up in it, she was going to find the eye.

“Just what did you have in mind?”

-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-

Dr. Whale considered himself a decent doctor. He dealt with his patients swiftly, turned paperwork in on time, and drank only when things were quiet.

And usually in Storybrooke, it’s devastatingly quiet. Thus, the doctor did a lot of drinking.

However, due to rules and regulations, he had to sneak his flasks in secret.

The very, very, few people who knew of this very illegal and very unorthodox on-the-job activity knew that, should an emergency occurred in the middle of the night, Dr. Whale could be found in the depths of the morgue.

(On the east wing of the hospital, not the west where the old one was now covered in police tape. Once upon a time the former mayor thought it would be more beneficial to build a new one than to repair the one that was already there.)

The doctor was almost done with his nightly flask of scotch when the back door suddenly beeped and unlocked from the outside.

It didn’t make sense. Only he and the morgue assistant (who had gone home hours ago) had the key card.

Well, there was one other person…

“Good, you’re here.” Pan deadpanned as he rushed through the door, someone else just behind him.

“Pan what…” he paused when the person behind Pan removed their hood. He knew she was Wendy Darling, of course. He had treated her in this very hospital enough times to recognize her.

Dr. Whale avoided small-town gossip as much as he could, but he knew good and well the circumstances surrounding this particular instance.

“You two need to turn right around and go home.” He warned them.

“How authoritarian.” Pan mocked.

“Pan.” Wendy whispered as a warning, her eyes darting around nervously in the familiar but much brighter morgue.

Whale considered calling security, but the smell of alcohol on his own breath kept him from grabbing the phone off the wall.

Pan waived Wendy off, making a beeline to the filing cabinet where Mother Superior’s autopsy would be.

“Get away from there, Pan!” Whale yelled.

“Why?” Pan mused as he opened the cabinet and began searching its contents. “I do this all the time.”

“Things are different right now!” Whale fought, coming up behind Pan and slamming the cabinet shut. “There’s a murder investigation going on and she,” he pointed at Wendy. “Is the main suspect as of three hours ago.”

“She didn’t do it, and you idiots know that.” Pan fought, trying to pull the cabinet open.

Whale slapped his hand away, and Pan sized him up when he stepped too close.

Wendy stepped behind them, fearful about the exchange that was unfolding before her.

“Acting frisky tonight Vic,” Pan smirked. “Drinking on the job?”

“I feel like keeping my job.” Whale growled. “I’ve put up with you for a long time. Broken the law, hid your dirty little secrets, all just to keep you out of my hair—"

“And you can keep me in it just a little bit more.” Pan growled, snatching the handle of the cabinet from Whale’s grip.

“For christ’s sake Pan!” Whale hollered as he rumpled through files.

The disturbed doctor glanced at Wendy who did her best to look inconspicuous. She could see the inside of a jail cell now—and more terrifyingly she could see Pan beside her in the vision.

She looked around the clean morgue, her stomach turning when she saw her own distorted face looking back at her.

Cruella. Jekyll. Mother Superior.

She looked away, willing away the fierce snarls of her former foes. She looked up to see her a worn, sunken face staring at her in the equally reflective morgue drawers. It numbed her to the core when she quickly recognized it as her.

A loud crack broke Wendy from her musing and nearly from her skeleton. She shot around, expecting to see Graham or some other conundrum awaiting. Instead she found Pan holding a slightly dented tool tray and an unconscious Dr. Whale moaning weakly at his feet.

“Don’t know why I didn’t do that as soon as I walked in.” Pan muttered as he threw the tray aside.

Wendy could have easily exploded at what he had just done, could have chastised him and have him shoot her down as he usually did.

But things were different now. He didn’t quite faze her anymore.

“Is he alright?” she asked instead.

“He will be.” Pan smirked, pulling the doctor out of the way so that he could better access the filing cabinet. “If we’re lucky, he’ll count the lump on his head and our visit as a bad hangover.”

“I doubt it.” Wendy muttered, stepping to Pan’s side after sparing the doctor a concerned glance.

Pan found Mother Superior’s file quickly and with a swift turn he had it spread out on the autopsy table.

“Alright, timeline time.” Pan announced as he spread out the papers.

“What time does the autopsy say she died?” Wendy questioned as she reached for the toxicology report.

“Looks like it was between 10 p.m. and 4 a.m..” Pan mused.

“We were there around 11,” Wendy added, the wheels in her mind slowly beginning to turn. “Cause of death?”

“Overdose,” Pan confirmed, licking his lips. “Vitacin.”

Wendy threw her hands in the air. “That’s fine! It was probably an accident or even—”

“It wasn’t suicide.” Pan declared, pushing the autopsy report to Wendy. “Tink gave an air-tight testimony.”

Wendy read over the hand-written statement and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

It is my opinion as one of Mother Superior’s life-long charges that she did not commit suicide. Accidental dosage or foul play are possible contributes to her death in my opinion.

-Tink La’Bell

The handwriting before her was sloppy, hardly the well-balanced penmanship Wendy had come to expect by the devil-may-care Tink.

She had been in great pain when she wrote this, her hand probably shaking from the grief of it all.

It was also the word choice that made Wendy’s mind begin to go into overdrive. Accidental dosage. Or foul play. The grieving woman was looking for someone to blame, yet she wasn’t willing to point fingers. She could have easily written, “Wendy Darling did it kill her arse!”

But she hadn’t, and Wendy wasn’t sure to feel grateful or terrified.

Pan watched the emotions swirl on Wendy’s face. Disbelief, inquiry, and hurt, all mixed together.

They didn’t have time to deal with her heartbreak.

He didn’t have time to deal with it.

“Graham’s still going over the crime scene, trying to find evidence that someone else was there.” Pan explained, snatching the file from her to bring her back. “Did you see anyone else?”

Wendy glared at him, not appreciating his hastiness. “No, just me.”

“What about the first time?” he pressed. “Did you see anyone in her office?”

“No,” Wendy sighed. “It was just her, there was no one…”

Pan watched her when she suddenly paused.

“What is it? What!”

Wendy recalled the nun who escorted her in. The lean, mousy young woman who looked at her with pity as she entered Mother Superior’s office.

The harder she tried to remember her, the blurrier she became.

“There was…but that couldn’t…that was nothing.”

“Who?” Pan questioned.

“The nun that led me to her office.” Wendy answered. “I cut to the chase as soon as the door closed. Maybe she heard something and…”

Pan smirked. He knew nuns were bored enough during the mundane lives that they would eavesdrop on anything. Whatever she heard Mother Superior and Wendy talk about would be perfect blackmail material.

They may have just found their murderer.

“What did she look like?”

“Like…a nun.” Wendy shrugged. She hadn’t exactly had time to shake hands and get to know everyone in town.

Pan rolled his eyes. “Hell Wendy, hair coloring, freckles, what!”

“Burnett, about my height, maybe a little bit older than Tink.”

Pan blinked as a certain, very distinct nun came to his mind.

Wendy noticed the change in his demeanor, noticed the very rare glimmer of concern in his eyes. This person meant something to Pan, truly meant something to him.

“I saw her leave when I went back to the convent.” Wendy added. “I don’t think it was her, but she’s the only other person I saw. It’s probably nothing—”

“It’s never nothing. It’s always something.”

“Pan, we could have the police coming this way right now, we don’t have time for riddles!”

“Just…shut up and follow me!” he demanded, grabbing her arm.

Wendy faulted his dragging and turned back to the unconscious doctor. “What about him?”

“He’s taken worse falls let’s go!”

Wendy dug her feet into the ground, taking hold of his arm to keep him in place. His heated glare was softened only by her wide-eyed desperation.

“Pan, tell me.”

Pan stared down at her hand, nails clenched deep into the green material of his jacket, holding him in place and demanding he stay. He smothered a smirk, her dominance stilling the adrenaline coursing through his brain.

“Who is she?” Wendy demanded smoothly.

Pan let the answer balance on the tip of his tongue. If he told her, he would just be revealing another heap of filth to her, let her become just a bit more corrupted.

How long, he wondered, until she was as filthy as him?

Would telling her keep her close to him or push him further away?

“Her name is Astrid,” he revealed with a careless shrug, though his heart was about to break through his ribcage. “She’s a few years older than Tink and just as abused.”

“And?” Wendy pressed expectedly. Pan’s stories never ended so jaggedly.

“And I…showed her once that she didn’t have to take it,” Pan nodded, ever a vigilantly in his own mind. “If we’re lucky, that advice would be enough to end all of this.”

Wendy shot back, leaving Pan just a bit less grounded without her angry restraint.

“Lucky!” she exclaimed. “Pan, a woman is dead and if your theory is right, another is a murderer!”

“You’re off the hook—”

“I don’t care!” Wendy screamed so loud the metal drawers shook. “I don’t want anyone to take the fall for me! To have their life ruined! I just want…”

“What Wendy?” Pan sneered. “What could you possibly want?”

“For it to be over! For it to never have happened! For you not to be a complete bastard for once!”

Pan burst into laughter.

“Well guess what, darling,” he gasped. “It’s not over. It happened. And…well, I am who I am.”

He leaned forward until the tip of their noses just barely touched.

“Get used to it.”

Wendy stormed out of the morgue without a response, just the light cry echoing in the empty room.

Pan’s smirk faded as soon as she was gone. His mind was buzzing too much for him to feel guilt, or desire, or other crappy thoughts that would allow him to slow down and just talk to her like he knew—deep down—he should have.

Now, he had to get to Astrid. Had to find out the truth of Mother Superior’s death before it was too late.

After all, he couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.

He securely tucked Mother Superior’s autopsy report back into the filing cabinet, sparing a frown at Whale’s unconscious form, and stepped out of the morgue.

“Wendy,” he spoke, ignoring the way her shoulders tensed when he did. “We have to go.”

I’m sorry.

#darling pan #darling pan fic #darling pan au #wendy darling #peter pan #tinkerbell #astrid ouat #dr. whale #ouat #ouat fic #ryik's fics #papers and sleuthers

9 notes · View notes