#I usually do warm brown lines but I went w blue this time and it's a lot easier to use bright pink/yellow/cyan ^^)

[oneshimaru]

sailor uniform, but add a hat to make it ✨unique✨

[sundaysundaes]

Thirst

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 3.8k | Vampire AU

Summary: You have walked the earth for more than a hundred years but your eternity finally means something the second you meet a human boy with smiles brighter than the sun.

Warnings: Vampire!Reader X Human!Hyuck, unprotected sex, blood sucking

“Wait, ah…” 

You pull back at the sound of his voice, fingers squeezing his upper arm. “Nervous?”

Donghyuck throws his head back and runs a hand over his face. He averts his gaze, slightly hiding behind his lean fingers. “Of course, I’m nervous,” he confesses, the tip of his ears turning scarlet. “I have a cute girl sitting on my lap, about to drink blood from my neck—how could I not be nervous?”

You reach out to him, gently running your fingertips at the side of his throat, and see him swallow hard at your touch. You can hear his heartbeat soaring, which only fuels your thirst for his blood. It has been days since you last drank from him and the flame in your throat is scorching. You know that if you don’t do something about it fast, you’ll lose what’s left of your humanity.

“Hyuck…” You plead, gripping against the collar of his black shirt. “I’m… I really need to drink…”

All the anxiety on his face is replaced instantly with concern. “Shit, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath, unfastening two of his top buttons to reveal more of his collarbones. The previous bite marks have begun to fade on his skin, appearing almost as faint as the little mole he has on his Adam’s apple. He’s beautiful, so beautiful, that if your mind wasn’t too clouded with the thoughts of consuming human blood, you would praise and cherish every little detail of his features with your lips.

Donghyuck closes his eyes, eyebrows adjoined in the middle in anticipation of your bite. His hand is fisting his collar, slowly tugging it down to reveal more sun-kissed skin to your glowing eyes. “H-have it your way.”

The way he’s reacting like a child curling up in fear of a syringe being plunged into their skin, makes you feel contrite but there’s no other option but to consume what he offers. Otherwise, your thirst for blood will drive you to the brink of your sanity, forcing you to do something even more terrible to him.

You try your best to divert your attention and focus more on trying to comfort him, even when your entire body nearly blazes in flame. Softly, you brush your lips against the column of his throat.

Donghyuck shivers, his breathing tatters. “Don’t—“ He curls his fingers, nails sinking into his palms when he feels your mouth move to lay wet kisses down his chest. “Don’t do that, please.”

“I’m trying to calm you down.”

“Well, you’re doing the opposite 'cause then I’ll be nervous for an entirely different reason.” Donghyuck brings the back of his hand to his mouth, murmuring the words against his skin. But despite the heat that warms his cheeks, he does seem a bit more relaxed, slightly smiling sheepishly at you over his flirtatious words. “I’m fine, just do it.”

You nod, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. Caught off guard, the blush blooms a little wider on his face but he tenderly strokes your cheek. “We’ll do that again after you’re finished,” he promises, “A lot of that.” His hooded eyes are captivated with the way your lips glisten under the slide of his thumb. “Right here.”  

You smile in return. Landing yet another soft kiss to his jaw this time, you extend your fangs and make your mark.

Donghyuck winces away from the pain of your cuspids puncturing the skin under his jaw, right between the earlobe and the collarbone. His hand immediately finds your shoulder, fingers twisting against the fabric of your dress. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes shut close as he endures the pain, but in the next few seconds, his breathing gradually becomes slower.

His head swirls as the rush of endorphin fills his system, elevating him with bliss. He slides his hand down from your shoulder to your arm, resting it on the dip of your waist. You can hear him curse under his breath but he slowly relaxes, his body reclining with you pressed tightly against his chest.

“You’re not so gentle today, are you?” He chuckles softly, slurring a little bit as his thoughts become hazy with ecstasy. “You don’t usually bite me like that.”

You can’t respond, too busy drowning in the pleasantness of his blood.

“So serious.” He quietly laughs. “Well, I guess, it has been a while since we did this so you must be very thirsty.” His free hand slips around your neck, tangling your locks around his fingers. He lets his lips brush against your strands as he murmurs, “I’m sorry… It must have been painful.”

It was painful. So painful that you were about to lose your mind, but with Donghyuck’s arms wrapped around your body protectively, his warm skin under your fingertips, and his sweet, sweet blood on your tongue, every pain, every suffering, every torture you’ve experienced vanishes into a blur.

“Calm down,” he whispers, his honeyed voice soothes you more than anything else in the world. “You don’t have to rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

And as he relishes the feeling of your tongue on his skin, your teeth sinking to draw even more blood, he closes his eyes again, and witnesses a flashback behind his eyelids.

Eight years-old Lee Donghyuck stood on the frozen ground with his tiny gloves covering his trembling fingers. Smokes of warm breaths were clouding over his mouth. His teeth chattered from the cold; a weird, repetitive melody to his ears. And although his tears were no longer falling, his reddened cheeks were still lined with them. 

“Jaeminnie…” He sniffed, one arm hugging himself by the waist while the other one moved to rub his puffy eyes. “Jaeminnie, where are you…?”

His warm chocolate brown beanie was no longer covering his head—a small reminder of how he had previously tripped himself and scraped his knee on the way down. It hurt. His trousers were ripped open from the fall, enough to show the small bleeding wound on his right knee. Kissed by the cold, his ears were red to the tips, freezing. 

He was alone. And lost. And no matter how much he called out for Jaemin’s name over and over again, no one ever came to reply.

Losing strength, Donghyuck fell to his knees. His gloved covered fingers sank into the five centimeters deep white snow and he began to cry, as loudly as he could, just like how he usually did at nights when he was too scared of the monster lurking under his bed.

He cried, and he cried, and he cried, and then he stopped.

He was not alone.

Donghyuck had his gaze on you; his big, watery, round eyes blinking in surprise. Your dress was tainted with splotches of red, fresh liquid that dripped from your chin as you just feasted upon a human. Turning around to look at him, Donghyuck noticed something peculiar.

Your eyes were glowing, strikingly so. Even in the darkness, even when the moon didn’t set afoot to shine that night in the silenced forest, Donghyuck saw them shining like the stars. And they were brighter, much brighter than anything he had ever witnessed.

The little boy stopped crying and gazed back at you. But no matter how cold your eyes were as they raked in his features, Donghyuck was not as much afraid as he was curious of why you could stand in the middle of December, wearing nothing but a sleeveless knee-high summer dress. And he was still starstruck with your glowing topaz eyes.

When he reached out a hand, you took a step back by instinct. Humans made you nervous, especially after your last encounter with the hunters. The memory of one of them nearly driving a stake into your heart made you more cautious than ever, even when your opponent was only a child.

Donghyuck stood up and dared himself to take another step and this time you bared your teeth in response. Your natural human face suddenly dispersed into a form of fear the second Donghyuck saw your teeth.

They were fangs, small but sharp enough to tear skin apart. You snarled, like a beast in a corner, ready to pounce when threatened. 

But Donghyuck’s fear only lasted for a minute, while his curiosity and admiration lasted forever.

“You…” Donghyuck spoke, his voice quivered from the cold and perhaps, excitement. Blood was still dripping from the corner of your mouth and he saw a long cut, spreading from your right palm to her wrist. “Are you hurt? You’re bleeding…”

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words, blinking twice before your shoulders began to loosen.

“If you’re hurt, I have band-aids,” Donghyuck said, immediately shoving his small hand inside his pocket to grab two blue band-aids with soccer balls printed on them. He showed them to you, his teeth still chattering from the cold. “See?”

You examined him more, looking for any kind of sign that he might be a threat to your existence but it was no use. Donghyuck was as harmless as he was adorable. He didn’t even have the strength to keep his little, stubby fingers steady from the cold.

“Why are you crying?” You asked instead, standing a little better in a less offensive stance. 

Donghyuck finally remembered. “Nana… Jaeminnie’s gone… He fought with his brother so we went out here to have some time for ourselves but… But we got separated and now he’s gone...”

“In the woods like this?” You wiped the blood off your mouth with the back of your hand. “What, do you want to die? It’s not safe.”

“N-no—I don’t want to die… I didn’t mean it to be like this.” The little boy shook his head. “I was just trying to help… Jaeminnie looked sad and I wanted to help…”

You fell quiet for a moment, noticing how Donghyuck’s eyes had turned watery once again. You retracted your hands, no longer had your claws out to defend yourself. “Maybe your friend’s already gone home first.” 

“Y-you think?” Donghyuck’s eyes grew hopeful and that was when you realized that the boy was not crying because he was lost in the woods late at night, nor was he crying because he thought his friend abandoned him. Donghyuck was crying because he was worried sick about him. “W-well, if he’s home then that’s great… I really hope he’s with his family again… Fighting is bad…”

So frail, you thought, humans are so frail. Leave them and they cry. Break them and they die.

You sighed. You couldn’t find the heart to leave him alone.��Come with me,” you said, “I’ll help you find your way out of the woods. You can check whether he’s home or not after that.”

And Donghyuck was not one to think twice when people offered him help. With a bright smile, he let his little feet carry him closer to your spot. “I’m Donghyuck,” he said, smiling brightly as he stood beside you. “And you are?”

You glanced at him, noticing how his bangs were fluttering from the winter breeze. His nose was red and his skin, although it was slightly tanned, was thin and easy for you to sink your teeth into if you wanted to. 

You told him your name and you had to repeat it twice until he could pronounce it correctly. He smiled even warmer. “Your name is pretty. Just like you, Noona!”

Noona? You almost snorted. When was the last time someone ever called you that?

But you kept yourself in silence and although you appeared cold, Donghyuck managed to find your charm in his own way. 

“Can I hold your hand on the way out, Noona?”

“Don’t get too full of yourself, brat.”

Twenty years-old Lee Donghyuck smiles at the memory, even when he’s somewhat dazed from the chemical of your saliva. He embraces you tighter, sighing close to your ear, “It took a while before you warmed up to me. I’m just so glad you accept me the way I am.”

That’s my line. You close your eyes, fingers curling against the back of his shirt. You can faintly hear his heartbeat growing slower and during the time you begin to worry, Donghyuck caresses your cheek.  

“Can we…” He breathes heavily. “Stop for a moment?” His head swirls, always an aftereffect from having his blood sucked more than he can contain. But even then, he still smiles like always.

“Oh…” Embarrassed and startled, you pull away, immediately wiping the trace of blood on the corner of your lips with the back of your hand. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… Umm…” Donghyuck witnesses your fangs before they’re fully retracted, as you turn away, shy and ashamed, hiding the only thing that distinguishes you from a normal human. 

Donghyuck smiles wider, and wider, until he produces this little chuckle that always sends a trickle of warmth and desire through your soundless heart. “You’re adorable, come here,” he says, hugging you from behind and tugging you closer to his chest, your intertwined hands lying idly on your lap.

After years have passed by since your first encounter, Donghyuck has become stronger and taller, with broader shoulders and veiny muscles appearing along his wrists. You, in return, stay as young as always, never changing. But like this, sitting above his thighs and curling up to his chest, you look like a normal girl, perhaps even a few months younger than he is.

“Hyuck...” 

“Hmm?”

“Did it... hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

You don’t indulge him with his jokes. “When I bit you, did it hurt?”

“Yeah, but I like it.” He grins, placing his chin on your shoulder. "Seems like I’ve developed a kink for it.” When you don’t mirror his laugh, he embraces you tighter. “I’m fine,” he whispers to your ear, tickling you with his warm breath. “Just a little low on blood, but come on, it’s nothing new.”

You don’t say anything but Donghyuck understands how guilt is gnawing at you from the inside. “Hey,” he gently turns your body around until he has his eyes peering into yours. You’re reluctant, not sure how to face him with the look of guilt on your face. “I said I’m fine. Can’t you see?” he coos, smiling with his chocolate brown eyes turning crescents. “Don’t look like that. You know I don’t like it when you’re blaming yourself for drinking my blood.”

“But it’s…” You nibble on your lower lip. “It’s not right.”

“You’re just filling your needs,” Donghyuck corrects you. “What’s wrong with it? I do it all the time. Think about this as your late-night snack.”

“Hyuck, I’m snacking on your blood.”

“And yet you’re the one who complains about it. You see how weird that is?” You shoot him a glare but Donghyuck counters back with a pout—a habit from his childhood days that somehow only occurs more often now that he’s an adult. “Look, I volunteered to do this. I want you to drink my blood.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, leaning close. “I’ll be pissed-off if you drink from someone else, actually. You’re supposed to be mine, just as much as I am yours.”

It’s funny how you’re superior than him in terms of experience, strength, and possibly anything else, but he shamelessly talks like he owns you. And you don’t mind, not at all, because after living behind the shadows for so long, it’s nice to have someone as bright as the sun holding you captive under his light.

You trail your fingers through the blood on his neck, painting his skin with crimson. “I’ve made a mess,” you mumble to yourself and Donghyuck stiffens, even stops breathing for a second. You dip your head into the crook of his neck, darting out your tongue to wipe the rest of his blood away, slowly and gently so you won’t scrape his skin with your fangs.

“Don’t hold back.” He holds you closer until your teeth are grazing against the supple skin. “It’s okay if you want to do it again.”

The temptation is too much, too strong, and you can’t find the will or strength to decline. “T-then... Just a little more.”

Donghyuck’s ragged breathing devolves into soft moans that ring in your ears, and you want him so desperately in every sense of the word. “Fuck, it’s so weird that it feels this good,” he sighs, the back of his head pressed against the wall behind him. “Do I taste this good to you too?”

You hum, squeezing his shoulder.

He smiles between deep sighs. “Then, I guess, we’re both each other’s drugs.”

You only take a sip of his blood and lick the rest until nothing seeps out from his wound. Donghyuck is in a haze, eyes nearly closed when he smiles softly. “Are you done?”

You nod, wiping your mouth clean. “Thank you.”

“You’re being too formal.” He titters. “But you’re welcome. Anytime you want.”

You don’t really blush, not when you’ve lived for more than a century, but Donghyuck has his way to break into your facade and knows when he’s succeeding. He says there’s just something in the way you avert your gaze, the way you lick your lips nervously, or the way you put a hand on his chest as if you were about to push him away, but at the same time, making sure that he stayed near.

Donghyuck understands all that. He knows you like the back of his hand. 

“Listen to me,” Donghyuck says, cupping your face with both hands so he can stare directly into your glowing eyes. “If you ever crave for blood, you come to me, okay? I won’t let you starve. I won’t let you die. You can drink from me, as much as you want. I want you to.”

You’re surprised at the sudden pressure on his words and Donghyuck’s hands are hot, nearly scorching compared to your icy cold skin but they’re comfortable. He reminds you of the sun, of its heat on your skin during the day, reminding you how good your life was as a human.

“But I’m not even alive, Hyuck,” you say, smiling weakly as you lean more into his touch.

“Scientifically, no.” He shifts closer to press his forehead against yours, his heat seeping through your skin. “But to me, you’re much more alive—and you make me feel more alive than anyone I’ve ever known.”

You want to meet his eyes, but his stare is directed to your lips. “Is that a compliment or a white lie?” You whisper, and his eyes grow half-lidded when he sees you moving your lips to form a sentence.

“It’s the truth.” Donghyuck swallows the soft noise you make directly with his mouth, lips slanting against yours perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. He groans from the back of his throat when he tastes a hint of his blood on your tongue, kissing you deeper with more passion.

Being with Donghyuck is suffocating and it’s funny because you don’t even need to breathe to live. It’s suffocating in the sense of how desperate his kisses are, how there is only one innocent kiss at the beginning that only lasts for a few seconds and then vanishes entirely, changing into hard, bruising, deep ones that feel possessive and dominating.

But being with him is also comforting. He gives you solace you don’t know you need. His touch, a stark contrast to his kisses, is gentle, almost silky smooth whenever his hands glide on your skin. He’s the only one who knows how to make you laugh, even when you can hardly remember how or the sound that you make when you do. His laughter is contagious, his protested whines are both annoying and endearing. He’s the fire that keeps you alive.

“Hyuck—” You circle your fingers around his wrist, feeling the heartbeat that faintly beats under the skin. “Wait, you’re losing a lot of blood—”

“I don’t care,” he gasps against your mouth, yanking his hand from your hold so he can cup your cheek. “I’m fine, so let’s just—“ You let him overpower you for once to do as he pleases and he pushes you down to the carpeted floor, crawling on top of your body. “I want you—for two weeks, I’ve been—I’ve missed you—”

Donghyuck is adorable when he wants something so desperately, like the way he furrows his eyebrows as he runs his fingers on his keyboards. The way he’s shouting a train of expletives at his computer screen before he leaps out of his chair, punching the air when he finally completes the mission. 

Donghyuck is captivating when he desires to achieve something in his life, like the way he practices dancing over and over again to earn a scholarship to college. Or the way he told you he loved you a few months ago, and no matter how many times you said no, telling how ridiculous of him to even think about being with a vampire, he never relented. 

And Donghyuck is beautiful—so out worldly beautiful—when he wants you.

It’s beautiful, the little moan that escapes his lips when you touch him back. Even the slightest touch at the right spot can make him shiver and he blushes when you notice him react that way, immediately saying, “It’s just cold here, okay? And your ice-cold skin isn’t helping.” 

It’s beautiful, the way a bead of sweat rolls down his temple as he’s sheathed deep inside you, not quite moving yet as he tries to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed. “You’re driving me insane,” he confesses, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, grazing his lips against your skin as he sighs. “Can we stay like this forever?”

It’s beautiful, the way he laughs when you answer him with, “Actually yes, we can, if you’re willing to be turned into a vampire.” The appalled look on his face only stays for a split second before he beams at you, his smile bright enough to replace the sun. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he giggles, taking your earlobe between his teeth as he whispers, “Any man would be happy to sacrifice their souls to be able to make love to you for eternity. Including me.” And as he moves back to your lips, he adds, “Especially me.”

It’s beautiful, the way he throws his head back in pleasure at the feeling of you clenching around him. The way he murmurs expletives while biting his lip as he brings his eyes down to you. His expression is erotic, his voice obscene, his lips are parted and bruised. His hands are on your knees as he spreads your legs apart, pushing himself deeper inside. “I can never get enough of you. I—“ He flinches when his thrust hits your sweet spot and you squeeze harder around him in response.

It’s beautiful, the way he rambles when the sensation becomes too much. “The way you feel around me—” He places open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hips moving frantically at a faster pace. “Y-your entire existence—” His hand heads over to your breast, his thumb sliding over your nub. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And it’s fucking beautiful, the way he says your name in a soft gasp as he comes inside you, his arms trembling when he places them on the floor on each side of your head to keep him from collapsing on top of you. His temple is pressed against your collarbone and he quivers when you kiss his hair. His lips immediately chase after yours when his name escapes your mouth, and he kisses you again, and again, as if he hasn’t been kissing you a thousand times already.

“Stay with me,” he begs, his hooded eyes nearly hidden behind the bangs that are damp from his sweat. “I’ll keep you alive—as alive as you make me feel so please just…”

Don’t leave me.

***

[moon-light-jukebox]

“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 3 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid and Reader continue their conversation at his apartment. Reader explains some of her rules and realizes just how quickly she’ll break them for our pretty boy. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature (this one has smut, y’all.)

Word Count: 4.2k for Chapter 3

Content Warnings: BDSM themes, femdom themes, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, vaginal fingering. Just smutty smut.

A/n: Thank you so much for sticking with me, my darlings. I’ve only been writing on this account for 5 days and the love I’ve received is overwhelming. As promised, here is chapter 3, which is filled with sexual tension and Spencer Reid smut, a day earlier than promised.

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized texts are Reader’s thoughts.

-- Chapter 3: Do you kiss your submissives?”--

Spencer Reid’s apartment was exactly what I expected. The only clutter in the whole place were his books, which were overflowing from everywhere. I didn’t see a TV or any sort of modern technology besides a phone line. The walls were a dark green, the windows on the far wall were huge, offering amazing natural light, I was sure.

He placed his bag by the door before he moved into the apartment. “D-do you want anything, Y/n?”

“I’m fine, Doc.” I moved to sit down on his couch before patting the cushion beside me. He moved to the couch quickly, briefly debating if he should sit where I had indicated or sit further from me. “C’mon, Doc. I’ll only bite if you ask me to.” I tried to say it like it was a joke. It wasn’t, but I’m not sure if Spencer knew that.

He sat beside me, his back ramrod straight, his knees together, fingers drumming nervously against his thighs.

“Well, you’ve got me right where you want me, Doc. Ask away,” I said lightly.

He bit his lip; I saw him struggling with himself. “…why is it a conversation you avoid?”

Jesus fuck. “Because it makes me uncomfortable, Spencer,” my voice had a slight edge to it. I don’t want to talk about this.

My nervous boy licked his lips, his eyes shifted to the wall across the room; his eyes ran over the books I’m sure he’s read thousands of times. “Did…did-,” he cleared his throat. “No one hurt you, did they?”

Is that my heart that just cracked a little bit? “No, Spencer. No one hurt me in the way you’re thinking.” It took everything within me not to reach out and touch him. How could his mind not jump to the worst conclusion given the work that we do? “My heart is the only part of me that was hurt. I trusted the wrong person.” A mistake I won’t make again.

I saw his posture relax as he released a deep breath he’d been holding. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.” My sweet boy. The things I want to do to you. He shifted, still never meeting my eyes. “Well…if you don’t let them…fuck you, then what do you get out of it? Do you still have…have an o-orgasm with them?”

“Sometimes,” was my answer. “Sometimes I’ll turn them into a whimpering little mess and then I just leave. Sometimes, I touch myself while I’m with them, so they can watch me cum.” Spencer’s breathing was so heavy now. Does he feel this too? This pulsing that seemed to run through my entire body. “My memory isn’t as good as yours, but once I leave, I usually finish myself up at home, thinking about how they begged and cried for me.”

I heard him whimper. He didn’t try to hide it, shifting in his seat again. I felt myself throb at the sound, at the thought of him making a sound like that under me. I had tried to reign myself in while I was in the car, not letting this affect me. This was different. We were in his house, I could smell him, I could almost feel him. I didn’t need to check to know my panties were getting damp, especially after hearing that fucking sound.

He wasn’t going to make the first move; it simply wasn’t in him. “Spencer? What do you want? I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me. All you have to do is ask.”

He took a deep breath, clasping his hands together to stop them from trembling. “…w-w-what do you look for? What sort of…guys do you like?” His voice was so unsure, he was so afraid that I was going to say something and hurt him. The thought cracked my heart open further. This sweet, sweet man.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” His response was so quick I had to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

I placed my hand on his arm, staying on his shirt, careful to never touch his skin. I skimmed my fingers up higher while I turned my body more towards him. I could see his pulse beating in his neck. "My poor, nervous boy," I said softly, so softly I'm surprised he heard me. But from the way his eyes closed, and his hands clenched, I knew he had. His breathing sped up the closer I got to his neck.

Finally, finally, finally, I let my fingers move up to the collar of his button-up shirt. He felt my nails first as they grazed over the skin of his neck, brushing slowly towards the other side, up to that jaw I had admired since the moment I met him. With light pressure, I turned his face towards me; I was pleased when he didn't resist.

“I don’t think I have a type, I like all sorts of people,” my voice was a little bit more raspy than normal, my words soft. “I especially like shy boys with beautiful messy hair and glasses.”

The small smile on his face at my words warmed a place in my heart I hadn’t felt for such a long time.

He licked his lips, his eyes searching mine; looking for something that I would give him…if only he asked. His voice was no more than a whisper, “Do you normally kiss your submissives?”

“No,” I said, unprepared for the look of disappointment that crossed his face. “No, I usually don’t kiss my submissives. But…I think I could make an exception.” There was no way I wasn’t going to kiss that beautiful mouth of his, my normal rules be damned.

His golden-brown eyes locked on to mine; and for the first time in a very long time, I felt like someone could see every part of me. Spencer Reid looked at me and I felt like he could see all my secrets that were buried far beneath the surface. The way he looked at me made my heart flutter, my thighs clinch, and my mouth go dry.

He terrified me.

Spencer’s tongue ran over his bottom lip, his eyes moving from my lips back up to my eyes. “Are you sure?”

In that moment I wasn’t sure of a lot, but I was starting to understand that my usual defenses were no match for this man. “I’m sure.”

His hands were soft when he cupped my face in his palms, slowly moving his thumb over my cheek. It felt like it took a lifetime for his lips to finally brush over mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I’d kissed other people before, but I had never felt a hunger like this. Spencer’s lips moved over mine hesitantly, my nervous boy was still so unsure. I moved my hands to the back of his head, tangling my fingers in those light brown curls I had admired for so long.

Our kiss grew more urgent like we both felt how fleeting this perfect moment was. The rain was pouring, Spencer Reid's mouth was moving over mine, his tongue flicking over my lips, seeking entrance, and I was so wrapped up in him that I forgot what I was so afraid of.

I sucked Spencer’s tongue into my mouth, the action pulling a moan from deep in his throat. My hands were moving down his body urgently; Spencer’s hands stayed on my cheeks. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll stop him if he tries to touch me.

My mouth broke away from his, gasping for air. I ran my hands down his body while my mouth trailed over to his ear, planting wet kisses along his jaw. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I whispered in his ear before I gently took his earlobe between my teeth.

Spencer hissed, his hips shift, seeking some sort of friction. “I…I don’t know.”

He couldn’t see my smile as I kissed down his neck until I got to his pulse point, biting and sucking the skin lightly. He’d have a mark, but I couldn’t resist. I wanted some proof tomorrow that this was real.

“If I do something you’re not okay with you have to tell me.” He nodded quickly. “No, I need you to say it, Spencer.”

“I will,” he said in that same breathy voice that I would remember for the rest of my life. “But I don’t think you’ll do anything I don’t like.”

He had far too much trust in me, but I wasn't going to betray it. Rising up, I pulled up my skirt before I swung my left leg over him so that I was straddling his lap. I quickly started working on the buttons of his shirt.

“Y/n,” he said, causing me to pause. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to do with my hands.”

What a good boy he was already. “Put them along the back of the couch, baby. I’ll give you permission to touch me again when you’ve earned it.”

He nodded before leaning back further to put his arms where I wanted. His eyes darted down to where my lower body was pressed to his. Spencer Reid’s breath caught before he licked his lips and looked up towards his ceiling.

I continued unbuttoning his shirt. “What is it, baby?” I pushed his shirt open, my lips trailing down to his collarbone.

“I can…I can see your…panties,” he stumbled with his words. Whether he was uncomfortable with the words or simply overwhelmed, I couldn’t decide. I tilted my head, looking further down. My skirt was up around my hips, the piece of blue fabric covering my pussy was visible.

I leaned closer, my mouth going back to his ear as my hands went to his belt. “What’s wrong, Spencer? Do you not like them?” He shifted restlessly. “Or is it because they’re all wet?” He whimpered again, causing me to pull his chin down so he was facing me. “It’s all for you, you know. This is what you do to me.”

Something ignited in his eyes right before he brought his lips back to mine, his tongue swiping over my bottom lip, demanding entry. I opened for him on a sigh as I finally got his belt free. Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was such a good kisser. His tongue tangled with mine before he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly. When I moaned into the kiss, his hips bucked up, causing a jolt to run through my core.

“Can I take your pants off, Spencer?” I whisper against his mouth. I got a small nod before his mouth moved over mine again.

I undid his pants, slowly unzipping him before I pulled away. I'm embarrassed to say my legs were a bit shaky when I stood up. Who would have thought Spencer Reid would have this effect on me?

He lifted his hips as I tugged his boxers and pants down his thighs, his cock springing free and hitting his pelvis. He was a pretty boy; it makes sense he’d have a pretty cock. He was longer than I expected, not overly thick, but the veins were clearly visible. He was so hard it had to be almost painful for him. The head of his dick was wet from all his precum.

Spencer watched me carefully, unsure of where I was going to take this. I gave him a smile and dropped to my knees. “We’re not going to do anything crazy tonight, Doc,” I said, trailing my lips up one of his thighs, clenching my own at the whimper he made in response. “We’re just…getting acquainted.” My hand reached up and grabbed him at the base, stroking up to the head before running my thumb along the back, an area I was sure would be sensitive. His hips jerked, he let out another groan. “Is that what you want, Spencer?”

“Yes…yes, please.” His teeth were digging into his lip so hard I was afraid he might draw blood. His hands balled into fists along the back of the couch.

I couldn’t deny him, especially not after I heard him say please. I knew he’d be like this; I just knew it. I ran my tongue up the underside of his shaft before swirling it around his head. I kept my eyes on him the whole time, his hand released from the tight fist to grip the back of the couch.

I hollowed out my cheeks and took the head of his cock into my mouth. I sucked hard, earning another whimper. I pulled my mouth off and brought my palm to my mouth. I licked my palm, being sure to let some salvia pool in my hand before I wrapped it around his base again. I flicked my tongue over the slit of his dick, watching him closely. His stomach muscles were flexing in an effort to hold still. I began to work his cock into my mouth, taking more and more each time I went down, my hands stroking the part that my mouth hadn’t reached.

"Oh…oh my god, y/n," his head thrashed from side to side. He closed his eyes before I squeezed him harder. His eyes opened to meet mine. I pulled him out of my mouth, jerking him roughly.

“Look at you,” I murmured. “You’re already such a mess, Doctor.” He whined at my words, my hand continuing to move over this length. “I want you to watch me suck your cock. I want to hear you, Spencer, is that clear?” His cheeks were bright red, his breathing heavy as I continued to work his cock. He nodded, then said, “yes, ma’am.”

Hmm, ma’am, I thought. He might be a natural at this.

I took him back into my mouth. I worked up a rhythm that seemed to be what he wanted. I moved my hand off of him before I took him deeper into my mouth. His cock hit the back of my throat; I fought my gag reflex, swallowing around the tip of him.

“Fuck,” he whined. “Please, y/n. Please. I need you so much. Please, please.” He really was the most beautifulthing I had ever seen, especially when he was like this.

I moved back up his cock, pulling my mouth off, and gave him a smile. I kissed the tip before I said, "You can touch me now, Spencer. You've been such a good boy."

I took him back into my mouth, not missing the look on his face when I called him a good boy. It looked like somebody had a praise kink. Of course, he does, was all I could think.

He tentatively put his hands on my head, not applying any pressure, just following my movements. I reached up and pushed his hand more firmly on the back of my head, encouraging him. Spencer was ever the quick learner; he moved his hand, sliding it into my hair, gripping it and tugging ever so slightly. I closed my eyes and moaned around him, which caused him to grip my hair tighter and moan my name.

He started moving my head then. I relaxed, allowing him to move how he wanted. I watched as Dr. Spencer Reid, the quiet awkward man started to fuck my face, groaning every time his cock hit the back of my throat.

My eyes watered, saliva slipping from my mouth making his cock wetter.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m…I’m going to cum. Please. Please, let me cum. You feel so good. Please.”

I moaned around him, looking into his eyes the entire time. I thought I was ready to see what he looked like when he came. I wasn’t.

He breathed out a sound that might have been my name, his hands flexing on my head. His head was thrown back, the tendons of his neck were straining as he spilled down my throat. I swallowed reflexively, closing my eyes until his hands dropped from my head. I pulled off and gave him a few more strokes with my hand. His body spasmed; he was so sensitive and my touch was too much.

I moved my body back up onto the couch, my legs stiff from being on the hard floor for so long. A soft smile took over my face as I looked at the boy wonder. I never thought I would see this sight; Spencer Reid was completely wrecked…by me.

He raised his head and looked at me, his expression close to one of wonder. “That was…that was everything, y/n.”

I chuckled, pushing my hair behind my ear. “That was nothing, Doc,” I said smugly. “That was just a normal blowjob. If you let me, I could really show you everything.”

He smiled at me, his eyes running over me, his eyebrows furrowed like they did when he was thinking hard about something. “Y/n,” he began. “I…I want you to cum too.”

Spencer was nothing if not a gentleman. “It’s fine, Spence. I’ll just take this memory with me and take care of myself later.” I normally didn’t second guess my decision to have this boundary with my subs, but Spencer was making it difficult to not rethink it.

Shifting his body, he slowly brought his hand up to face, cupping my jaw again. “You have that memory,” he whispered. “But I’d like one of you. I really want to see you cum.” My breath shuddered; who knew a little bit of dirty talk from the pretty boy would affect me like this? “Even if you won’t let me f-fuck you, or touch you…please, I just want to help you feel good.”

My pussy was so wet, the throbbing was constant. I had my thighs clamped together, trying to get some sort of relief. I was making all kinds of exceptions today, so why not?

I nodded slowly, unable to contain my laugh at the look of victory that came over his face. “What…how do you usually do this, y/n?”

Keeping my eyes on him, I started to remove my shirt. His eyes raked over me quickly, I knew he was committing me to memory. Reaching behind my back, I unhooked my bra, taking a deep breath before I slid it off. "You can kiss me if you want. You can kiss any part of my body above my waist." Was that disappointment that flashed over his face? “I’ll…I’ll touch myself while you do that.”

I was so wet and aching, I knew this wouldn't take long. Spencer gripped my face in both of his hands and kissed me. This kiss was brief, but the same amount of passion was still there. His hand tentatively made its way up to my breast, brushing over my nipple softly before he took me in his hand. I moaned into the kiss as his thumb started to brush over my nipple more purposefully, my thighs squeezing tighter.

“You know,” he murmured into my skin, moving his lips down to mouth my throat. “Some women can orgasm from nipple stimulation alone. It’s rare, most women need clito-“

“Spencer, I am okay with hearing your facts anytime but right now,” I said, trailing my hand up my thigh.

He just chuckled. “Fair enough.” He moved his mouth down to my breast, taking my nipple into his mouth while his hand held the other, his thumb and forefinger tweaking that one while his tongue flicked over the other.

Of course, he is good with his mouth. I moved my hand up to the seam of my underwear. Pushing the wet fabric aside while I ran my finger up my folds. I couldn’t help the moan that tore from my throat at the sensation. I was just so wet.

Spencer pulled back from my chest to watch my hand, his attention on my finger as I slowly started circling my clit. He licked his lips, which may have been the hottest thing I had ever seen. “Y/n…” he trailed off, entranced by the movement of my hand, “Please let me touch you.” My breath caught, his left hand continuing to toy with my nipple. “I know you don’t normally. And I don’t understand why…it’s fine if you don’t want to. But please…please, I’ve thought about this for so long. Can I at least taste you on your fingers?”

Who knew Spencer Reid was this dirty? I moved my finger down, dipping it into my heat before I brought it back out. I brought my wet finger up to his mouth, staring in wonder as his lips wrapped around it. He sucked harshly, moaning at my taste, his eyes fluttering closed.

I blame how turned on I was for what I said next. “Spencer…you…you can use your hand.”

The look in his eyes made it seem like he knew what a big deal this was. He might not understand my reasoning, but he knew that me breaking my rule for him meant something, something important.

He leaned forward to kiss me, letting me taste the trace of myself on his lips. Then I felt his thumb ghost over my clit. My hips jerked and my thighs attempted to clamp together. I couldn’t remember the last time a hand that wasn’t my own touched me.

He pulled back, biting his lip as he looked at me. Pulling his hand back, he leaned forward and took my nipple into his mouth as he put a finger inside me. I was never going to be able to look at his hands again, not after I knew they could do this. He moved it in at out at a leisurely pace before he inserted another. He curled his fingers up until he found the spot that made me buck my hips and arch my back. Spencer smiled at me while his hand began to move faster. Only he could look so sweet at a time like this. “Tell me if I do something you don’t like, y/n,” he whispered. “I-I don’t have a lot of experience with this.”

He looked down again to watch his fingers move inside of me. Could have fooled me, Doc. He licked his lips absentmindedly while I tried to ride his fingers. He ground the heel of his hand against my clit, causing me to whine. I was so close already. My pussy was soaking wet, my chest was flushed, and I was coming undone for Dr. Spencer Reid.

“You look so fucking beautiful, Y/n,” he said, his eyes moving between my face and where his hand was working into me. “I’ll never be able to look at you again and not remember how pretty your pussy is. How wet you get for me.” Spencer leaned forward then, his mouth near my ear as he whispered. “And how your pussy squeezes my fingers every time I say something.” He chuckled at my groan. He knew I was going to cum. “Is that what you like? It’s not just making me beg for you…you just like hearing me, don’t you? Fuck…you’re getting so much tighter.” He bit my earlobe gentle, his left thumb and forefinger squeezing my nipple, his hand working into me faster as I ground my hips against him. “I wonder…y/n,” he breathed again. “I want you to cum for me. Please, please cum for me, Miss.”

That’s what finally broke me, the tension inside my body snapping apart at his whispered plea. My back arched off the couch, my hands were around his arm, my nails digging into his skin. My vision went white as I tried not to scream at how good he made me feel.

I slowly floated back to earth, his fingers working me gently to prolong my orgasm. I’m sure my face was flushed and dazed, but he stared at me like I was…beautiful. Spencer removed his fingers from my over sensitive pussy. I wasn’t prepared for him bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean,

Jesus, he’s dirty was the only thought in my head.

After he withdrew, we both started righting our clothes; he pointed me in the direction of the bathroom so I could clean up. After wiping myself off, I splashed some water on my face, taking in my appearance in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes were too bright, my lips were swollen. I looked happy.

I was terrified.

I made my way into the living room to find Spencer clothed once again. The confident man who had made me cum moments ago was gone, replaced with my nervous boy, fidgeting with his glasses.

No matter how uncomfortable I was, I needed to be there for him after this. I sat beside him while he eyed me cautiously.

I smiled at him, my poor boy. I held out my arms. “Come here, Doc.” He looked confused. I explained, “I know we didn’t technically do any real BDSM stuff, but I think aftercare is still important right now. So, come here.”

Spencer bit his lip and looked…oddly hopeful. After giving it some thought, he scooted over on the couch before laying down so his head would fall into my lap. “Y/n?”

I ran my fingers through his curly hair slowly, trying to soothe him. "Hmm?"

Spencer was quiet; I could see his mind working behind his eyes, looking for something, anything, to say.

He was still thinking about what to say when his eyes closed, and his breathing slowed down.

It was alright, I knew what he wanted to say anyway.

taglist: @pinkdiamond1016​ @rachelxwayne​ @sickeninglyshoujo

series taglist: @abschaffer2​ @liaabsurd​ @brokenanxiety​ @thisiscalmandits-dr​​ @less-intelligent-spencerreid​ @reidsmyhusband-emilyismymistress @cielo1984​ @sarcasticsagittarius1998​ @101donuts​

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[elles-writing]

Flowers for a girl

A/N: This still comes back sometimes, so I thought why not to write it down, though I don't exactly remember some parts of it for some reason (is it ptsd? idk), but in Middle-Earth AU, Kili is little younger (12-13 in human years, in TH he'd be like 16-17 i guess. Reader is 10-11 years old) and it happens before TH events. It's something different than I usually write, because it's based off on my personal experiences, so...yeah.

I wanted to write it down mainly for myself, to accept my past. If this is happening to you, please seek for help!! Better be safe than sorry. If you'd needed to, my ask box and messages are open, if you need to talk.

Warnings/triggers: description of emotional and physical bullying, body shaming, very low self esteem of reader, hints of swearing, eating disorder thoughts, mention of catcalling

If any of these is triggering you, please don't read this story!! Even if there is fluff, there are still these.

"Look at that fatty," one of the boys laughed into her direction. Y/n felt tears swelling in her eyes.

Don't cry, don't cry.

"How much do you weight? I bet as much as a pig!"

"You are so ugly and fat!" The other one said and pushed her. Y/n tried to do anything, but she was too scared.

"No, give it back, that's mine!" She said, when the boys took her sketchbook.

"Look at those drawings, they're like so bad," one of them pointed at them.

"Give it to me back!" She tried to grab him, but he put his arm up.

Don't cry, please, don't cry, not now...

"Ah, then come and get it!" He runned away, and Elle tried to catch him, but he was quicker.

"Ha! You out of breath already, you ugly fat pig? C'mon, come for it!" Him and other boys laughed. Y/N tried to catch his shirt, but he was running and jumping around.

"Look at how she jumps, look at her! It's like pudding!" They laughed. Y/N felt tears to come up into her eyes.

Don't cry, not now, you can't...

"Look, she's gonna cry!" You looked away, blinking furiously.

You can't cry in front of them.

"Leave her alone!" A voice came from behind the boys. They all looked back at him.

Y/N couldn't see him, she was shorter than them, and they were around her in a circle.

"Or what?" Said one.

"Look, the fatty got a boyfriend, eww!" One of the boys, and Y/N wanted to hide somewhere. She felt scared, shameful, and embarrassed.

Who would have ever loved her?

"Look, she's not speaking," they pushed her and Elle let out a surprised gasp as she fell to the ground.

"I'm saying it again, leave her alone," the other boy said. She looked around, and noticed him looking at her. She blushed, and looked away. He was handsome.

She knew she will hear about it later.

"Or what? What are you?"

"I'm Kili, from the line of Durin, and I would suggest you to get out, if you don't want me to kill you," he growled out, and Y/N felt fear rising in her. Would he hurt her?

Kili pointed the tip of one of his daggers to the main boy's throat, who then quickly took his friends and went away. They even threw her her sketchbook back.

"Did they hurt you?" Kili asked, then looked down at her for the first time.

She refused to look at him at first, but then she did. She was scared, and reminded Kili of a bunny.

She could be around ten years old. She was a human, he guessed, based on her ears.

"No, I'm...I'm okay," Y/N whispered and looked away.

"Thank you," she muttered.

"What happened? Why did they followed you?" Y/N looked down in her lap.

"I was drawing and reading here. I think they seen me, and went after me...it's been my safe place," You whispered.

"I can stay with you, in case they would come back," Kili offered before he thought of it. At this point, he was sitting down next to her.

"I-I don't know. They would laugh at both of us..." she said quietly, fearing of a wave of laugh. Kili furrowed his brows.

"How long has this been happening to you?"

"For over a year..." you said.

"I'm Y/n," she said a little awkwardly.

"I'm Kili," Kili introduced himself, remembering how his mother taught him to introduce himself.

"So that's decided, I'm staying with you," he said, and muttered some curses in Khuzdul, as he thought about the group.

"H-here, take my coat. It's getting cold," he said. She smiled nervously.

"Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you anymore," He offered her a smile, and she decided to take his offer, though she hoped he won't comment on her warming up face, or her body. She liked him, he was not just handsome, but actually kind to her.

It has never happened to her ever before, with a guy, who was a stranger...

The coat was big on her (that was a huge relief) and she cuddled into it.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

"Well, I-" Y/N didn't finished her sentence, because the first drop fell on her head, and other quickly started following. She gasped and quickly put her belongings to her bag. As she finished, it was raining heavily now. Her hair was soaking wet, sticking to her head.

Now he will see how I'm ugly, and laugh at me and call me names, and- she wanted to cry. Kili noticed her expression.

"So they did hurt you? Where is it?" Y/n shook her head, as they walked in the heavy rain.

"N-no, I just...I hope the sketchbook didn't got wet," she decided for the safer version.

"But you got wet. Where do you live?"

"Well...around twenty minutes of walk," Y/N said, so if anything, he wouldn't try to find her, though she was kind. But just to be safe.

"I'll take you home with me, it's not that far," Kili offered, and you quickly turned to him. He was kind, but her parents warned her about going somewhere with strangers.

"I-I think it's okay, thank you for your offer,"

"You are going to get wet to bone if you keep walking," Kili said and Y/N looked at him, but quickly looked away. The rain sticked Kili's hair and clothes to his body, and she blushed.

He surely has a girlfriend, don't be stupid, she snapped at herself.

He would never want to be with you, you are a child, and he is older. And he is super kind and handsome.

"Alright, then...I will go with you," you said unsurely. She thought she would think of something, if anything would go wrong. Plus, he was a prince. Y/N doubted he would do anything like this, if he was a prince.

"Amad, I'm home!" Kili said as he closed the door behind him. Y/N curiously looked around. It was a nice small house, with the smell of bread hanging in the air.

"Come with me," Kili said, and as Y/N was about to make a step, she noticed the puddle, and how she was soaked.

Before Y/N knew it, she was sitting in clean dry clothes, borrowed from Kili, wrapped in sweater and a blanket, sipping on warm tea.

"Kili, who is this?" Dis asked her son quietly. Kili looked at the human girl.

"Well, some boys called her names, so I went there, and then started raining, so I told her to come with me, because she told me she lives futher away, and she was soaking wet already..." Dis nodded, though she eyed her son, if he wasn't hiding anything.

"Where do you live, dearie?" Dis asked the little girl, who shyly looked around.

"I live near that small forest, my family owns multiple fields, and we work there," she admitted to the woman, who introduced herself as Dis.

"Would you like to have anything else to eat?" She offered her. Y/N shook her head. She didn't wanted to embarrass herself, and look like all she could do was to eat.

"No, thank you for your offer," she smiled, and carefully sipped on her tea.

The rain stopped, and Dis went with the girl where she lived, to explain what happened, and make sure she was safe.

Kili didn't seen the girl for next couple days, but when he was on the hunt in the forests, he overheard a conversation.

"He was cute, brown eyes and he was kind to me," Smile stretched across his lips, as he recognized that voice. He wasn't considered as too attractive among his kin, but hearing this made his heart warm up.

"Blue eyes are prettier, aren't they?" a voice of another girl said. Y/N was quiet.

"Well, they just are. Brown eyes aren't that pretty," the girl said.

"Don't you think so?" She turned to Y/N.

"W-well, um, depends on a person, I think?" The other girl got up.

"They are prettier." Kili could clearly see how Y/N looked down, and she seemed to feel sad.

He walked away, with thoughts of Y/N in his head, when he suddenly overheard some voices in the distance.

"Do you think we will find the pig today?"

"Probably. Her and her ugly drawings."

"It's not just her drawings who is ugly," the boys laughed.

"Do you remember her? 'Don't do that,' and then she went and started swearing back at us,"

"We are going to get her back, don't worry. She's slow runner, what about if we would take her things and made her run around? She would lose some weight at least."

"Great idea," other boys said. Kili felt his blood boiling.

How dare they to talk about her this way?

As the boys walked along, Kili prepared to scare them a little, but then he overheard another things.

"The guy who protected her, he has horrible taste in girls."

"Yeah, what a jerk. And those eyes the small fat pig made on him," one of them widely opened his eyes and wildly started blinking. The other boys were laughing.

Kili gripped his bow. He didn't knew the girl too much, but nobody deserved to be treated this way.

His arrows found their target quickly. The boys stopped, and looked around. Kili noticed they were really afraid, and smirked to himself.

When he came back home with two rabbits, he decided to go look around again. The sun was still not setting, so he still had some time.

His thoughts took him far away, and he didn't noticed he stepped on something, that felt like a pencil. He looked down, and realized it was a few pencils, hidden in grass, and when he looked around, he noticed sketchbook, hidden in old willow. If he wouldn't know what to look for, or didn't had as swift eyes, he wouldn't ever notice it.

He took the sketchbook out. It was familiar, and though he felt a little guilty, his curiousity was stronger.

He noticed a few sketches of trees, flowers and attempts of drawing people. They all were made with precision. They were not as realistic, but that certainly didn't mean they were not nice. It was drawn by someone, who was still learning, but truly excited about it.

Kili put it back carefully, and got back home.

It's been a few weeks, when he met the girl again. He came home with Fili from sword training, and his eyes widened when he noticed Dis with Y/N, chatting in the kitchen.

"Hi," she greeted them shyly.

"We have first strawberries, so I thought I would bring some for you," she shyly looked at Kili.

-

"Stop it," you muttered. Kili rose his brow.

"Oh, what is it?" He looked her into face, and noticed her shy smile, while he was grinning.

"You made me obsessed with these strawberry cakes your grandma bakes, can I have another one?" He made puppy eyes. Y/N sighed.

"Fine. But don't distract me, okay?" Y/N handed him the sweet pastry, and Kili winked at her.

"You're the best," He kissed her cheek quicker, than he thought of it. They both deeply blushed.

"Um, thank you, I suppose," Y/N muttered, and looked back into her sketchbook.

Meantime, when Kili chewed on his cake, Fili came back from his and Kili's room, and started reading a book. He started laughing, and Kili quickly took a look what was his brother laughing about.

"C'me read this, Y/N, this is so funny!" He said, but his smile froze, as he noticed her ashamed expression.

"What happened, Bunnie?" He used the nickname he gave her, because she loved bunnies. Y/N sighed.

"Well, um...it's embarrassing," she whispered.

"Neither of us will laugh at you, I promise," Fili said, and the girl looked at both of them. She took a deep breath.

"Icannotread," she muttered, and quickly looked away.

"You can't...read?" Y/N nodded shamefuly.

"It's, um...the school is too far for me to go  alone there, so, um...yeah." The brothers shared a look, which Y/N took in different meaning. She felt tears in her eyes, but Fili was quick enough to notice.

"No, we won't laugh at you, Y/N!" He said and pulled the girl into a bear hug. Kili quickly joined.

"Yeah, Bunnie, don't worry. We would never laugh at you," Y/N relaxed in the hug.

"Thank you," she muttered, and hugged them back.

They spend rest of the day by teaching her how to read, and write. Soon after, Y/N started studying with the brothers.

-

"You are distracting me," Y/N muttered, as Kili was kicking his legs back and forth. It was summer - over four months after they met. Y/N sat up on the tree, and Kili was sitting down on branch a little lower.

"How can be that possible?" He looked at her innocently. Y/N blushed, when she seen his big brown eyes in sunlight. They were in shades of melted gold and caramel.

"The tree is shaking, and I want to enjoy reading this book without distractions."

"I'm not a distraction!" Kili pouted.

"You are," Y/N offered him a smile, and got back to her book. Kili pouted a little more.

"Will you read it to me, then?" Y/N looked at him, and dramatically sighed.

"Fine. But let's sit down on the ground," Kili got down, and then he carefully placed his hands around her waist, Y/N placed her hands on his shoulders for support, and he put her down.

Y/N sat down, her back leaning against the tree, and Kili placed his head on her lap. Y/N smoothed her skirt and placed her book next to her, so she could read it, while playing with Kili's hair.

Y/N was the only one allowed to touch Kili's hair, aside from Kili's family. She never understood why dwarves were such touchy about their hair, but again, she was the same way, so she fully respected it.

Kili fell asleep after a while, on the sound of her voice.

-

"You the last cake I said was mine!" Y/N growled out and Kili laughed, but he quickly stopped laughing.

After the months of spending time together, running around the fields and archery lessons, she got much stronger, so her punches had strength and would hurt. Kili and Fili would never hit or fight with a girl, and though Y/N became like another part of the family, only tickle fights were allowed with her.

"You-you Kili!" Y/N was more upset than angry, and Kili started laughing again, as he was jumping around and trying to get away from her punches.

"Stop, Bunnie," and tickled her.

"N-NO-T T-HAT P-PLAC-E, K-KI-LI!" Kili grinned.

"Awn, who is ticklish?"

"I ha-te you!" Y/N slid her hand across the back of his neck, and Kili let out a squeal.

"N-NOO!" You giggled as you started tickling him.

"Gotcha," You sticked out your tongue on him, and quickly runned away to hide, before he would get you back.

You runned, but didn't noticed when you bumped into someone.

"Aah, long time no see," a voice said, and you shivered.

"You squeled on us, huh? Is that everything you can do? You loser," the boy said. Y/N kept quiet, with her head down.

"Oh, look guys, she's going to cry! What are you gonna do? Run to your mommy, or your friends? Go on, you tettle-tale." Elle felt tears in her eyes, and quickly looked up.

"I'm not a tettle-tell, I-"

"That's what you say, and then you will go and tell your mommy about 'the big boys are bullying you'," they laughed. Elle wished she could hide somewhere, and try to cry. She wasn't able to cry, even when she was alone, as she learned to hide her tears.

Whoosh

And then a yelp from the boys.

Y/N looked up and noticed the arrow in one of the surrounding trees. It was Kili's arrow.

"You told someone to spy?! You will pay for this later," one of the boys said, and then another two arrows pierced through the air. The boys quickly walked away, leaving her alone.

Kili runned out from behind the trees, and pulled her close to his chest. He started saying something angrily in Khuzdul, and Y/N was sure those were swear words.

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here," Kili whispered, when he finished his quick session of swear words. Y/N shook in his embrace.

"Let's go home," he said. They picked up his arrows, and went home.

Kili made Y/N tea and gave her his favourite sweater, which also happened to be her favourite as well.

When Y/N went to sleep, Kili checked her every few minutes. He felt guilty. He should've protected her better, stay with her.

He carefully sat to the edge of the bed, and slid his thumb softly over her cheek.

"I will make sure they get what they deserve," he muttered and softly caressed her cheek.

-

"Sure, I will go with Bella and Alia, you don't need to worry about me, I will be safe," Elle gave Kili a smile. Her two friends from her neighbourhood, with who she enjoyed to spend time too.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he shrugged, and sharpened his dagger. Y/N started on brushing her hair.

"The boys won't do anything, if they meet us in a group. Plus Fili gave me that sharp dagger for my fourteenth birthday, I always keep in my shoe."

Kili looked at his friend, focused on brushing out the knots in her hair. Y/N grew up and changed the way she reacted to what other people told her. But that wasn't just what changed.

She grew up into a young woman. She was beautiful, and some girls were jealous of her because of it, but luckily, Y/N had great friends.

"You home, sleeping beauty?"

"Oh, of course I am!" Kili grinned as he heard Bella's voice.

"No, you are snoring beauty."

"That's Fili!"

"That's both of you," Y/N rolled her eyes, but chuckled. She and Kili said their goodbyes to each other, and her friends she knew for three and two years, turned to her.

"So, how was your date?" Y/N blushed.

"He gave me flowers for my birthday, so what? That's what friends do." Y/N turned to Alia to change the topic.

"How about you and girls?" The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Some of them are arrogant, but other than that it's good. But I have you, so I don't care," she grinned and hugged her friends around their shoulders.

"So, what do you-" Bella started, when a group of boys passed them. They whistled, and started talking about them. Y/N's cheeks blushed, as she overheard them.

"Don't listen to those idiots, they still share one brain cell," Bella and Y/N said at once, and they all laughed, though Y/N didn't felt any happiness. Her instinct to run and hide from these boys was still there.

-

And then we arrived to the market. I still looked around if they were not there, but luckily not, Y/N wrote down the sentence, and put the notebook aside. She felt happy they didn't recognized her, but it still stressed her out. She looked over to the bow and quier with arrows Kili gifted her, when she had thirteenth birthday.

"Trouble with sleeping?" Kili's raspy voice appeared behind her.

"Yeah," Y/N sighed out, and pat on the bed next to her.

"C'me here, snoring beauty," Kili chuckled at that nickname.

"Ugh, again?" You nodded with a grin.

As you laid in safety of Kili's arms (and him being soundly asleep), your mind turned into a specific direction. Would Kili like you? Not just as a friend, but...more?

You'd fall asleep like this, if you had bad dreams. Kili fell asleep first, and softly snored, but he looked cute while doing so. You shook your head, and decided to listen to his breath, and soon, you fell asleep yourself.

The memories of the times you used to be bullied by those boys came back. You didn't felt confident at all, and mostly sad. You couldn't fall asleep at night, and you often found yourself looking over your body. Fat pig, that's how they called her. Was she still...like this? Would she ever be pretty enough?

It's been a while, since she cried before sleep, and then fell asleep afterwards.

The brothers noticed something was going on, when their friend seemed to be bothered by something. So, they decided to do thing they always did, which was making flowercrowns together.

-

"You're messing it up, Fili," you giggled, when the blonde prince's flowercrown fell apart.

For fifth time in twenty minutes.

"Well, I'll go get some fresh flowers, over here," he pointed to the carpet of daisies in the golden light of setting sun.

"Guess who," Said smooth voice next to your ear, when his hands covered your face.

"Hmm, is that you, Ki?"

"Who else."

Kili sat in front of you, and placed a flowercrown on your head. You both stood up, and he twirled you around.

"I've got you something else," he whispered.

"Flowers," you looked happily over the small fresh bouquet of wild flowers, and felt warmth spreading in you. You looked into his chocolate eyes.

"Kili, thank you so much, it's...it's beautiful,"

"Not nearly as beautiful as you," he looked deeply into your eyes.

"Flowers for a girl," he said, with a slightly pink-tinted cheeks.

"Now finally braid her hair," the lion prince's voice interrupted the romantic scene.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Day 4: Pining / Attention

“If you were to look my way, I think my heart would just about explode.”

Day 4 of JustJadelentines2021!

[Day 1] / [Day 2] / [Day 3] / [You’re at Day 4!] / [Day 5] / [Day 6] / [Day 7]

JadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatme--Ah-HEM! Um... I mean... Leech mob family is a fun theory~

***Warning: Wish Upon a Star (Floyd’s Wish) & Floyd and Jade Birthday Suit Up! personal story spoilers!***

Imagine this...

Several wheelbarrows’ full of packages addressed to the twins arrived at Octavinelle every holiday. At first, Octa A was startled by the strange influxes of mail--but his concerns were often dismissed by his upperclassmen. Most notably, Jade would reassure him that the packages thanks to the Leeches’ “extensive connections” and “family ties”, whatever that meant.

The mob student tried not to linger on the meaning of those words too often, for whenever he did, his mind would wander into dark theories. Whichever corner of the deep, murky sea the twins originated from, Octa A didn’t want to be dragged there for asking too many questions.

So he closed his eyes and went about his work like the diligent employee that he was. The school year passed, and in turn, so did the holidays--and, as expected, the packages arrived without fail on each special occasion.

Then came Valentine’s Day.

“Wh-Whoah...!!”

Octa A’s jaw dropped at the sheer amount of mail unceremoniously littered across the floor of the Mostro Lounge. Boxes large and small were stacked as tall as him, wrapping paper of various patterns, glittery bows, and packing peanuts were scattered everywhere. One big mess.

Floyd say amongst the packages, giddily ripping boxes open, while Jade stood at the edge of the sea of mail, carefully inspecting the various packages.

“G-Good morning,” Octa A called out as he slowly waded through the mail, cautious about not stepping on anything. “What’s... What’s all of this? Th-This is a lot of mail--even more than usual.”

“Oya. Good morning to you as well, Kon-san,” Jade replied with a polite wave. “Bright and early for your shift, I see.”

“Ahh? It’s Konbu-chan!” Floyd cried, wearing a toothy grin. The eel excitedly waved to him, hailing the mob student over. “C’mere!”

Oh, thank Neptune, Octa A thought. He had caught the brothers in good moods today. The last thing he needed was a grumpy Floyd or a passive aggressive Jade leering over his shoulder.

With a little less trepidation than usual, he tip-toed over. Octa A just narrowly missed dirtying a discarded bunch of blue tissue paper before he reached his upperclassman.

“Hold your hand out,” Floyd commanded, his smile stretching.

“O-Okay...?” Octa A obeyed, unsure of what to expect.

“Here you goooo!!”

Floyd dropped something brown, warm, and sticky into the mob student’s palms. Octa A jumped at the strange sensation, his thoughts racing to the conclusion that it was something unsanitary--but when a sweet smell hit his nose and Octa A immediately knew it was chocolate.

“I don’t want it, so you can have it!”

“E-Ehhh?! Y-You’re just going to hand me a bunch of melted chocolate?!”

“Yup! Oh--you can have those too,” Floyd added, jabbing a thumb at a box by Octa A’s feet. “And this, and that... pretty much all of it, ‘cept the one from mom.”

“W-Whaaat?! Th-There’s no way that I can eat all of that...!!”

Jade’s laughter cut in, interrupting the conversation. “My, my, Kon-san. There is no need to fret. You need not consume all these sweets. Feel free to dispose of them as you wish, if that is what you think is best.”

“Th-Throwing them out is just as bad as giving them away!!” Octa A cast a sympathetic look at all the packages. Some thrown open, their guts spilling out, and others left totally untouched by their intended recipients.

“Oh? Whatever do you mean. Please, do enlighten us.”

“Tch. You gonna lecture us, Konbu-chan? This oughta be good.”

“What about... What about the feelings of the people that sent them? If they’re all Valentine’s Day gifts... s-some of them must be confession or friendship chocolates, people pining for you. Y-You can’t just throw away their feelings like that...!!”

The twins exchanged glances with one another, then collectively stared at Octa A. Floyd started first, his slow and steady chortle becoming increasingly raspy and unhinged. Jade followed suit, his gentlemanly chuckle twisting into a composed, yet cruel laugh.

“Wh-What’s so funny?”

“I simply find your naivety fascinating, Kon-san,” Jade replied with a grin. It seemed grossly out of place, given how he had laughed mere moments ago at the notion of discarding emotions.

“We don’t need to accept everything that’s thrown our way, you know~” Floyd cackled, flicking a wrapped truffle across the room. It hit the wall and ricocheted under a table. “Especially when we know all this junk’s from kiss-ups that wanna make it big.”

“H-Huh?” Octa A’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean...?”

“Floyd.” Jade’s voice took on a stricter tone than usual with his twin. “You’ve gone and said too much.”

“Ehhh? It’s fiiine,” Floyd insisted with a pout. “It’s not like any of ‘em will know! And they always do the same thing every year. It’s sooo boring!”

“I understand your sentiments--it does become rather troublesome for us to dispose of these chocolates every year. However, that is a time and place for everything, and this is not one of those times.” Jade’s eyes briefly cut to Octa A before returning to his brother.

Floyd rolled his eyes, shrugged, and returned to delving into boxes.

“Um... S-So what did Floyd-senpai mean by ‘kiss-ups’?” Octa A dared to ask--his curiosity getting the better of him.

Jade heaved a sigh. “... If you really must know, Floyd and I are quite ‘popular’ back home in the Coral Sea. This is due, in part, to our father’s rather successful business enterprise. There are a number of his partners and associates that wish for what the Leech family has.”

He gestured to Floyd, who was still wrestling around with the packages. “Thus, they often attempt to curry favor by sending gifts. The hope is to soften us up to them--but many of them, I suspect, are aiming for a far greater long term prize: our hands in marriage, and therefore near unlimited access to the resources and power that our father wields.”

Octa A paled. Already, he could feel his stomach sinking, and his body temperature turning chilly--as though he had just plunged into an icy sea. He was on the cusp of a dark secret--he felt it in his gut.

“O-Oh... I see... Ahahah... Y-Your family politics sound complicated, Jade-senpai, Floyd-senpai.”

“Indeed, they are.” Jade spoke quietly, his eyes digging into Octa A’s soul. Though the eel still sported a curve to his lips, his gaze lacked warmth. The light seemed to have drained from his irises, leaving them dull and frigid.

Sizing the mob student up--trying to ascertain whether or not Octa A needed to be blackmailed into submission--into silence.

“I trust that you would not dig deeper. It would be rather unfortunate if we lost one of our treasured employees.”

Octa A gulped, nodding vigorously to confirm an unspoken promise to Jade. Then the first year scrambled to make small talk, to change the topic, if only to avoid his vice-dorm leader’s dreadful stare.

“I-It does sound annoying to have people always trying to get your attention. I-I’d just want to live a quiet, peaceful life not getting noticed by too many folks... That way, I can just do what I want.”

“That sounds sooo nice!” Floyd chimed in from the floor. “It sucks when other people try to tell you what to do or how to be, or tryin’ to get you to act how they want! Like, if I’m gonna do something, I’m gonna do it cuz I wanna, not cuz someone else wanted me to.”

“I-I guess...?”

“Ehehe. Konbu-chan gets us! So you’ll take all the chocolate off our hands, right? Riiiight?”

“E-Eh?! I-I mean, I can if it really troubles you so much, senpai--”

“Great! I knew we could count on you~ Here, here, take it all!!” Floyd leapt to his feet and began piling box after box in Octa A’s arms, despite the melted chocolate pooling in the mob student’s palms. Chocolate smeared on the bottom-most box, and Octa A yelped.

“W-Wait...!! P-Please slow down...!!”

“Fufufu. Thank you for your assistance,” came Jade’s voice. Octa A couldn’t see him, since a bunch of boxes now obscured his line of sight, but he was sure that Jade was smirking.

He caught a flash of movement in his periphery. Jade emerged on his left, his olive and gold eyes narrowed--and his mouth, lined with sharp teeth, folded into a perfect smile.

“Did you know, Kon-san? Many people would kill to be in the position that you are in... being able to so casually engage with us on a daily basis,” Jade chuckled, granting the mob student a pat on the back. “Octavinelle is very fortunate to have our full attention, don’t you agree?”

“Y-Yessir...”

[vanderlindemorgans]

dark blue tennessee

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: It was one thing being without him while he was alive. It was another to lose him all together

Warnings: Major character death, grief-induced alcoholism, descriptions of blood and injuries, vague allusions to suicide. None of this is beta read so please don’t shoot me for any grammatical errors!

None of this seemed real to you. None of it felt real. It would have brought you some comfort if it wasn’t - that way you could reason with yourself that this was all the result of some horrific nightmare, that’d you’d wake up with a small gasp in his arms, safe and away from whatever dark terror had enveloped your mind. You weren’t one to usually have nightmares but when you did he would always be there, his embrace warm and tight, a single hand running through your hair in a soft pattern, and his unmistakable southern drawl whispering into your ear. 

This wasn’t a dream however. No matter how wrong it felt, how surreal and horrific the whole situation was, it was all real. Perched on the edge of a barstool, you glanced over at the almost empty bottle of whiskey beside you. You thought it would take the pain away, dull your senses and let you pretend for two seconds that he wasn’t really gone, but if anything, the whiskey made it worse. Everything reminded you of him, day in and day out, every morning you woke up and all you could notice was that he wasn’t there. His clothes were, his Stetson perched on a hook on the back of your bedroom door, his stupid belt buckle that you’d always mocked him for...but not him. You couldn’t bear to box away any of it. It may bring you pain to see all these items laid out, as if they were expecting their owner to return someday, but shoving it all in the back of a closet seemed so...disrespectful to you. It would be almost the same as forgetting him in your mind, and you refused to. 

It had been only two weeks since you first received that fateful call, the one that you prayed to high heavens you would never hear. Thank god you were home when you got the call - if you’d been out with your friends, or heaven forbid at work you don’t know what you would have done. It was a moment that you often replayed over in your mind, if for nothing more than the torture of reminding yourself of the day you had broke like glass shattered on a white cloth. 

Trailing the pad of your finger over the edge of your glass, you tossed your head back as you downed yet another glass of liquor. Every detail of that memory stuck out to you, even the most insignificant things that no one else would ever mention. You’d taken the day off work, already feeling shitty straight up from the moment the day had begun. You’d been making something to eat, just some toast because you couldn’t be bothered with anything else, and right when you were searching the fridge for a jar of jam you had heard the phone ring.

Without a second thought you’d scooped it up in your hands and answered it, thinking it would be one of your friends calling to try to get you to come out with them to some bar or something that night. You hadn’t guessed it would be anything important. “Hello?”.

“Hi, am I speaking to Y/N?”. You furrowed your brow at the response, not immediately recognising the voice. You considered hanging up for a brief moment but something in you told you to stay on the line.

“You are. I’m sorry, who is this?”. 

“My name is Ginger Ale. I’m a colleague of your partner, Jack Daniels. I’m very sorry to have to inform you this way, but he’s perished in a horrible incident”. 

Everything around you seemed to collapse in that moment. The whole world might as well have fallen away around you the minute you heard those words. It was a curious thing, the death of a loved one. It often comes so suddenly, and so unexpected that you feel like you’re climbing the stairs to your room in the dark, thinking there’s just one more step than there actually is, and feeling yourself plummet down into the abyss below. It was nothing like you’d ever experienced before - you might as well have been falling deep into the shadowy chasm right at the moment. Your grip on the phone tightened as you struggled to find the words, or any words really, to say in response as tears started to gather around the corners of your eyes. “W-what? What do you mean...he’s…” you trembled, stumbling on your feet as you fell against the wall in a daze, the world somehow seeming both screaming loud and quiet all at once. 

“He was injured badly during his last mission - multiple gunshot wounds from a certain run in with a couple of gangsters. He was...he was barely alive when we brought him in” Ginger explained, trying her best to comfort you but you barely took any notice of her words as the same thought played over in your head. He’s gone. He’s dead. He’s fucking dead, and you could have stopped it. It’s all your fault. 

“Aren’t you guys supposed to have that weird gel stuff that heals gunshot wounds? Surely...surely he could have been saved, right?” you asked frantically, your cheeks streaked with tears and flushed with grief. It took everything in you not to fall apart right then and there, dropping the phone to the floor and screaming out in sheer agony of the pain that was ripping through you. 

“Not this time, sadly. I’m really sorry, Y/N”. There was a small pause on the other end of the line before Ginger spoke again, her tone indicating her hesitance at divulging such information to you. “He also insisted that we don’t bother, that he knew his time was up with this one. I was watching him on this mission - he went into it all quite recklessly, which isn’t completely new for him but…”.

“But?” you asked, prompting her to finish her sentence but she never did. A heavy silence hung between the both of you, punctured lightly by the sound of your heavy breath which you tried desperately to keep in check. Some small part of you was still in some sort of disbelief, wanting to fervently deny that any of this was happening. This is just a dream right? I’ll wake up back in bed, I’ll get up and call Jack, and he’ll be alive and well. None of this is real. It can’t be real...

“I want to see him. Please, just let me see him. Let me at least say goodbye”.

_

You hadn’t taken much notice of your surroundings on your way to Statesman Headquarters - everything might as well have been a blur to you from the moment you stepped through the doors to the second you walked off the platform of the elevator towards the medical wing. As soon as you spotted him all sense of decorum and logic was thrown out the window, any sense of composure melting away to nothing the very second his body came into view. Ginger had been beside you, probably as a general gesture to ensure you wouldn’t entirely lose it once you gained a single glimpse of him but alas, as soon as the elevator pulled to a stop and the doors pulled open to reveal a lifeless Agent Whiskey lain across the stretcher, everything you had ever known seemed to fall to pieces from under you. It was as if your entire world had collapsed, had stopped revolving the minute you laid eyes on his lifeless form. Without another seconds hesitation you rushed towards him, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks as you bore witness to the unfortunate result of the tragedy that had struck.

It was as if the floodgates had opened right then and there - once you started crying, the tears just wouldn’t stop. With every ounce of your being you wished that somehow, by some godforsaken miracle, your touch would bring him back, that his eyes would magically flutter open and would greet you with those enchanting brown eyes that you had come to know every day of your life since the moment you had first met. That he would maybe, if only by the simple wish of your heart, say the one thing you were always angling to hear truthfully, in a way that you could put more than a simple faith in. As if you were a broken record, you couldn’t stop repeating his name over and over, like if by some divine intervention that alone would turn the clock back and have him lying next to you, his hand caressing your cheek and firing one of his signature flirty quips at you as you woke up in bed, catching a whiff of that ever-present scent of whiskey that mixed beautifully with his cologne. If only it were that simple. If only that were possible.

Instead you laid a hand against his cold forehead, now devoid of any warmth of life it once felt. Some would say that the dead looked almost peaceful in a way but you saw none of that: even in death Jack somehow looked anguished, like there was something left behind that he wanted to say but simply couldn’t go back to. 

“I can’t feel you anymore…” you murmured, your voice wobbling violently. Leaning down towards him, you cradled his head between your palms, whispering his name softly and feeling your own tears decorate his cheeks. Ginger, or maybe somebody else, said something in the background that you couldn’t take any notice of, your mind fixated only on the man you loved and the unfortunate reality that presented itself to you now. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

_

The funeral had only been held a week afterwards. From a planning perspective, it was easy to organise his final affairs - for whatever reason you’d been named as the executor of his will, a fact that came as a shock to you once you had been served the information by the attorney. The two of you weren’t ever married, although you had attempted to float the idea once or twice, and his mother was still alive so it seemed odd to you that of all people to be left in charge of his estate Jack chose you. Emotionally, it had been a taxing revelation for you: on top of having to carry the stinging pain of finding out the man you loved had died, you had to be the one organising his affairs. You knew after leaving the medical wing of Statesmans Headquarters that day that you wanted nothing more than to let your own sorrow overcome you and let yourself fade out of existence, his voice haunting your every waking moment until you finally decided to let go entirely and throw yourself off the brink of insanity. That’s what you felt you deserved anyway.

His funeral had been the worst of it. You had silently prayed that maybe you would have numbed yourself out a bit. The most agonising part of it all were the hoards of people coming up to you asking how you were. It took everything in you to stop yourself from confessing everything. If they knew, they’d hate you. They’d blame you. The gossip would start, the theories and rumours flying high, the whispers you could hear in your head as if they were real. Somehow you’d pulled through, despite the inclination to break down at any given moment. But of course, that wasn’t the end. You’d buried him, now you had to face the mortifying reality of living without him. 

With every passing day the memories became stronger. You never told any of them what had happened the last time you saw Jack - you couldn’t tell them. It had been eating at you from the inside ever since you picked up the phone that cursed day, tearing apart your mind and leaving nothing in its wake but heartbreaking grief and despair. It’s your fault. You’re the reason this happened. If you two hadn’t fought, if you hadn’t told him to fuck off on the phone that night, he wouldn’t have gone on that mission. You killed him. You’re a murderer. 

All of these thoughts and more wormed their way between different glasses of whiskey, letting you lose track of both time and how many glasses you had. No matter how much you drank though it never dulled the grief nor the guilt that you’d been torturing yourself with from the moment you woke up every day to the moment you went to sleep. Actually, even in your sleep you couldn’t escape it, being plagued by nightmares and the like increasing in degrees of terror the longer they went on. It was why you now avoided any sort of conscious effort to sleep, only succumbing when you’d become so drunk that you had bent yourself over the back of the couch and cried as much as your body would let. 

You swore to never let anyone know what had happened, that Jack and you had technically broken up a few days before his death. It already ate at you enough that you had to run over the memories in your mind, every last word you spat at him on repeat for your own infinite suffering. “It feels like wherever we go, she’s there. And she’s so beautiful, and perfect, and dead. I can’t compete with a ghost, Jack”. Scowling to yourself, you scooped up your glass and took yet another sip, feeling nothing but regret towards how everything played out. You didn’t regret what you said - on some level, you still felt it was true. You knew Jack would forever hold a candle for his ex-wife, but you’d grown tired of feeling like you were second place to a dead woman, as if the only reason he kept you around at all was to fill a void that could only truly be filled by the one person he could never have back. It had been selfish of you, in some way, but you’d deserved more. You loved Jack with everything you had, and you wanted him to feel the same way back, and although he swore he did you could plainly see that wasn’t the case.

“Darlin’, please, don’t be like this. You’re my only love and you know that. You’re being ridiculous about all this”

“Then why do you still wear your ring? Why do you get dismissive whenever I try to bring up moving in together, or marriage, or anything. It’s been two fucking years of this. You can do whatever you want, Jack but I’ll tell you one thing: you’ll be doing it alone. I’m out”. 

“For fucks sake…” you cursed, slamming your glass back down on the table with a loud thud, your words slurred beyond all comprehension. A few drops of whiskey sloshed out of the glass onto the countertop, creating a small puddle on the marbled surface but you didn’t much care. What was the point in caring anyway?

You still had to pack up his home, a reminder that only contributed to your pain. You were supposed to have taken care of that before now, at least a week ago but you couldn’t bring yourself to enter his home. I’ll do it tomorrow...maybe. Yeah, tomorrow. Deciding firmly on that, you sipped the last of the liquor and stumbled off the seat of the barstool, the world spinning around you as you fumbled your way through the dim light of your apartment to where your bedroom was, throwing your intoxicated body amongst the heap of unmade bed sheets and burying yourself within them, crying until you passed out in a deep slumber. 

_

Standing outside the door to Jack’s penthouse apartment, you stared forward with a muted expression upon your face, the key to his place gripped firmly between your fingers as if it would disappear from your hands at any moment. You’d been there for a good five minutes by then, meaning to break out of your state of catatonia to only be stopped again by yourself, kicking off a seemingly endless cycle in which you remained stuck in front of his door. You knew you had to go in there eventually: it wasn’t like everything of his would magically disappear if you just ignored it. It was still hard though, since you knew the moment you stepped through the door you’d be hit by the unmistakable scent of him. Almost like you were crossing a threshold of sorts, only with a feeling of emptiness on the other side instead of anything resembling happiness. Seeing his things would only remind you of how he wasn’t there among them, where he should be, which spiralled onto other thoughts, such as reminiscing on his gorgeous brown eyes and that honeyed southern accent you adored on him, and everything else that once made your heart spark with love. You felt your breath tremble as your knuckles turned white from holding the key with such might. This was a bad idea. You weren’t ready for this. Maybe you should just go home and call it a day. 

No. You have to do this now. You might as well rip the bandaid off, lord knows you’ll have to do it eventually anyway.

Keeping your breath paced, you raised your shaking hand to the lock of the day, slowly inserting the key and twisting it until you heard the unmistakable click inside. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pushed open the double doors and pulled yourself inside, your high heels clicking on the linoleum floors.

Everything was exactly how you’d last seen it, how Jack had last left it. Not that you expected any different of course. The only people who had probably been there in the past two weeks since his death were people from Statesman to collect various bits of the agency's technology and other gadgets Jack had left lying about. You never knew much about his life as part of the secret service: during your relationship Jack had preferred to stay off the subject of his job as much as possible. He even said himself that you shouldn’t have known about his double life in the first place but when it became too obvious that keeping it from you was going to hurt your relationship with him in the long term he’d sought permission from his boss to have you cleared on the most basic of intel. That never bothered you in the slightest - the least you knew about the agency, the better, a view Jack wholeheartedly agreed with you on. You didn’t know him as Agent Whiskey, top agent to Statesman Secret Service trained in espionage. You knew him as Jack Daniels, the cocky womanizer who chased anything in a skirt, the gentleman who had always managed to sweep you off your feet whenever he was around, and the man you had once dreamt of marrying before things went south. 

All around you were familiar places and objects, things that brought back so many memories yet felt hollow and empty as you looked upon them now. If things were right, he’d be there too, perhaps in the kitchen preparing dinner for you, knowing that you couldn’t resist coming over again even if it was the third time that week. Or maybe he’d be on the couch, reclining back with a glass of whiskey and a book, turning his head back to take a gander at you, shooting one of his signature smirks and making a remark about how incredibly gorgeous you looked. Without him, the space felt sullen and void of life, the dust settling on every surface from remaining untouched for two whole weeks by then. 

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward and tried as best you could to sort out your thoughts, detaching it as much as you were able to from the memories being back in that apartment brought. His mother already came to you and asked to have a box of certain things belonging to Jack given to her. You knew she was already going through a hell of a rough time herself, her only son winding up dead. She never knew about his life as an agent, being fed a cover story by Statesmans team in order to maintain their secrecy. A bit of you felt jealous of her for that. She would never know the truth, whereas you had to live every day for the rest of your life knowing what happened, being made aware of your own part to play in his fate every hour, every minute, every second. 

The rest of it, well, you had no idea what to do with it. You thought it would be best to box up as much of his personal items as you could, either to keep for yourself or to hand back to his family, and arrange to have the rest of the furniture sold or given away to a charity shop or something. Moving towards the living room, you began to scoop up the different framed photos you found around the apartment. Some were of him as a kid, either on a horse or in different shots with his family, already sporting that heart melting smile of his. A lot of them were of you and him on various dates - one you stopped to pour over was of the two of you at a diner in Brooklyn, you taking the photo and Jack taking a sneaky swipe of your sundae in the background while you were distracted. You remembered that day so well: he’d just come back from a particularly rough mission in Russia, one that he’d had to stake out for weeks, so it was the first time you’d seen each other in about a month. You looked at how happy you were in that picture, the sight of such joy bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. What you wouldn’t give to have those days back, the easier times, before the distance, the fights, the feelings of being second place to a ghost and of course, his own tragic death at the end of it all. 

At last you made your way to his bedroom, clutching onto the stack of photo frames as if they were a lifeline. You fought with everything in you the urge to just drop everything and crash down onto his bed, cradling one of his shirts in your hands to try to get a whiff of him, pretending that he was still there for only a few seconds. Rather, you walked over towards his bedside table and set the stack of frames down, crouching to your knees and biting back the teardrops threatening to fall from your eyes. It’s ok. You don’t have to do it all in one go. Just gather together some of his personal stuff, and then you can leave.

Opening the drawer, your eyes flitted between the various trinkets and things he’d accumulated, searching to see if there were anything personal that his family might want back when your gaze was instantly drawn to a stark white letter shoved towards the back of the drawer. Scooping it up in your hands, you furrowed your brow as you inspected it further, only to have your breath catch in your throat once you saw your name written in his unmistakable cursive on the front.  

Immediately you stood yourself up from the floor, your mind rushing into overdrive while you stared at the letter in your palms, hesitantly trailing your fingers up to the top of the envelope to tear it open. Out of all the things to find in Jack’s drawer, you definitely weren’t expecting this. You had no clue what it could be, when it was written or even if you should read it at all. Should you just put it back in the drawer and pretend you never found it? Though you supposed it was a bit too late for that, on account of you practically ripping the top of it open. With a hint of uncertainty, you reached into the envelope and lifted the letter out onto your lap, opening it to reveal its contents. 

The first thing you noticed was the date in the top right corner - April 22, two weeks ago, a day before he went on that mission and met an unkind fate. That alone was enough to make your heart stop, so when your eyes travelled down the page to read the rest of the letter, you might as well have dropped dead right then and there from the sheer pain that was struck through your heart.

I was a damn fool for letting you get away. You and I both know that my dearly departed wife will always hold a special place in my heart, and I know you understand that. I didn’t want to admit it until now but I had been becoming distant - every time you brought up marriage, or anything more I’d get scared. Scared of...well, a lot of different things. Of repeating the same tragedy with you, in some way. Some part of me was worried marrying you would be dishonoring my late wife’s memory as well. It’s no wonder you walked out when you did. I don’t blame you for your choice, but please allow me to say my piece at least. You never were second to anyone, sweetheart. As much as I will always love Lily, my heart belongs to you here and now. Missing you like this is such sweet sorrow, won’t you come back to me? No matter whether or not you chose to forgive me, or even entertain the idea of givin’ me another chance, I just want you to know that I love you, honeybee. I’ll be waiting for you today, tomorrow, and forever, down in dark blue Tennessee.

- Jack

Every word you read was like another stab to the heart for you, the tears that you had fought so hard to keep in now pouring down your cheeks, small sobs escaping your throat as you collapsed back to the floor with a thud, your heart racing a million miles a minute. There it was, all written down in hasty cursive script - the apology that he never got to give, hidden away in the back of his bedside drawer like an afterthought. Knowing him he’d probably written it out and intended to give it to you before he left for his mission but decided against it for whatever reason. And that final sentence...Tennessee. He mentioned Tennessee. The place where you’d grown up, where you’d lived almost your entire life before moving to New York. The place where you’d met Jack all those years ago, down in a local bar. You’d been visiting your parents for the week, he’d been there meeting with an investor for Statesman. By some stroke of luck you two had crossed paths, hitting it off and becoming infatuated within mere moments, one thing leading to another until eventually you’d woken up in his bed the next morning. The way you’d initially thought it’d only wanted a one night stand but then became something more. It was all flooding back to you now, triggered by only a few sentences written down on a letter that was never sent. You didn’t know what to do, or what to think. The only thing you could do in that moment was lean your head back against the bed and choke on your own sobs, muttering his name over and over for what felt like forever, holding the now crumpled and tear stained letter in your hands.

The hours ticked by, though you took no notice, and when you do eventually move, it’s not to leave the apartment. Your eyes barely leave the ground when you walk, stumbling from room to room in search of a bottle of wine or something stronger to drown your own sorrows in, kicking off your shoes haphazardly and without much care. When you bump against the liquor cabinet, you can hear something fall and shatter off the top, and when you walk back through the shards of glass with the bottles in your hands, you don’t even wince when one pierces your foot. With thin streams of blood trickling from the cut on your sole, you’ll flick the top off the first bottle you reach for, letting the lukewarm liquid slip down your throat, spiralling you down deeper and deeper into a drunken stupor until finally, the moment comes where you can close your eyes and slip into that familiar void of darkness that you greeted with open arms, those last conscious thoughts being an apology of your own that no one ever got to hear. I’m sorry, Jack...

[amesstm]

I’m Sorry

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Word Count: 1313

Warnings: angst, character death

A/N: Ngl, I dunno how to make a cut so it can be like “Keep Reading” so if anyone wants to help a girl out, please. Thanks~

“Y/N, you do it,” Reiner commanded. “You’ve been acting too friendly with the Scouts.”

You clicked your tongue, “And what about you and Krista?”

“Are you trying to disobey a direct order?” He sneered. Light brown eyes bored into your eyes for any sign of betrayal to Marley. Of course it would be like this, you thought.

“Reiner, just do it yourself.” Annie said, not able to look down at the freckled-boy she was holding down on the sheltered roof.

“Don’t you see how close you’re getting to these devils? I think you even like one of them,” Reiner muttered coldly underneath his breath.

A chill went down your spine. So, Reiner had seen how close you and Jean have become. In fact, from spending so much time with Jean, you’d become great friends with Marco. Marco did nothing wrong except for be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You bit your lip, unable to respond as you slowly lowered yourself to Marco’s level. A shaky hand started to undo his gear. It wasn’t your own; it couldn’t have been. But the nails and skin color all belonged to you. In a dissociated state, you heard Marco screaming for mercy and begging for his life. “Y/N, we trusted you! I trusted you! Jean trusted you!”

Yet, when you looked back at Marco, a chunk had already been eaten out of his side. It seemed not only a few moments ago that his face was in panicked despair. You looked down at your hands, the hands of a murderer. Reiner whispered, “W-why is Marco being eaten by a Titan?”

Your eyes widened, noticing a complete change in the blond boy’s demeanor. It was as if he was an entirely different person. Reiner didn’t hold those determined orbs that Marley drilled into him, but the grieving shock of a devil.

~

Jean couldn’t stomach Marco’s death. You knew he wouldn’t. Not when he was the first one to identify the body and you, secretly, were the first to leave Marco to his own resources. It was easy to blame it on a Titan for your friend’s death, but it wasn’t easy to rethink what led up to his demise.

Since Jean couldn’t also hang out with Marco anymore, he mostly stayed by your side. When you were both on missions, he was the first one to search for you immediately afterwards. If you could afford to be together, he would stay by your side like a lovesick puppy.

But that just made the painful truth all the harder to reveal. Soon, that unfortunate event happened.

“Did everything we went through together mean nothing?” Jean asked, teary eyed before you ran away. Flashes of your kisses and hugs rippled through your mind. Jean was wrong, it meant everything to you.

Reflecting back on what occurred, there wasn’t much you could remember – or wanted to remember. It was like your brain selectively chose what you remembered from your time on that island. Seeing Reiner would return you to that place, where you’d cuddle up to Jean for warmth. Otherwise, you couldn’t remember the hardest parts.

You sighed on your bed, before rising to go through your newly found daily routine: get dressed and clean accordingly, grab a newspaper for breakfast, and attend meetings. After doing the first step, you stepped out to purchase a newspaper. Although you were there for military meetings, you still chose to read the news.

There was a line to the newsstand, per usual. Standing behind a tall man, you waited patiently. However, something felt oddly familiar about this man. No, he was too tall to be him. Surely. Yet, he had the same build and signature scent that Jean so adored. In fact, you kept a handkerchief of his that had his scent. Perhaps it was just a coincidence.

~

Ironically, it wasn’t a coincidence. Jean and the rest of the Scouts managed to travel to Marley and lived amongst you. Now here you were, sitting across the man you once shared everything with. The campfire crackled and the food was passed around. Out of the blue, Yelena mentioned Marco, and Jean’s face dropped. He had been cautious around you, which was jarring.

The cocky teenage boy you left behind was practically fully-grown, with long hair and facial hair to match. His rambunctious eyes were beaten into a determined gaze. Despite all the changes Jean endured, he was still the boy you fell in love with - you hoped. The feeling of his hand in yours was permanently etched in your skin and the softness of his hair could still be felt under your chin from your hugs.

Now, he only talked to you when he needed to. There were those longing gazes that were unavoidable, but nothing was said aloud. Sometimes his eyes would say everything – no, scream everything. The yearning to talk to you, to understand – why had you done it? Because you were just an innocent kid when you signed up to ruin his life.

“I did it. I took off Marco’s gear,” you admitted. Annie’s aura evolved into one that wanted to reach out and comfort you. Jean looked appalled, shocked, and betrayed. Tears welled into your eyes, blurring your vision so you wouldn’t have to see Jean’s disappointment.

Reiner interjected and took the blame on your behalf. “Don’t be mad at her, Jean. I forced her to.”

Reiner, wanting to find the fasted way to die, started to retell the whole event from that day. At that point, you had begun to dissociate as if your brain wanted to block out his words and forget that day ever happened. Your eyes stared off in space, into the unknown. Then you were dragged down to earth, but not just you. While you were blocking out your surroundings, Reiner was literally on the ground, accepting the punches of Jean. If it wasn’t Reiner being beaten, you only imagined what Jean would do to you. You gulped, and realized that Jean really had changed so much.

~

Today, the group would really save humanity – but not from the enemy they originally thought they’d face when they joined. Eren had really done it; he started the Rumbling and was trampling humanity into the earth from which they came. Jean was right, Eren really was a suicidal bastard.

The warm air fuming from Eren’s large form threatened to force all the oxygen out from your lungs. But riding on the back of Falco provided a breeze with a view of exactly where Eren’s nape was.

Jean clung onto Falco beside you. You tried not to think about his presence, wanting to focus on the mission. What would you say, after all? “I’m sorry”? No, no amount of apologizes could ever display the true sorrow you felt from killing Marco. Jean deserved much more than a simple apology.

“I think I’ll try to forgive you from what happened that day,” Jean said, his hand clasping yours. You blinked at him, really seeing him for the first time. Hints of sympathy were in his voice, but his beautiful brown eyes held all the understanding in the world. Every flaw and perfection were laid before you under the sun. If this was the way to heaven, you would gladly die.

“You don’t have to,” you conceded. Perhaps it was the fact that the both of you could die at any moment now that you were on Falco’s back, but confessions were pouring out of the both of you. In a way, Eren really did bring people together.

“Y/N, you know I can hate you forever. But if I do, then I’ll hate myself. We only have so long in this world that it’d just be a waste of time if I did.”

You swallowed, “Okay. Let’s survive this and we’ll see what happens.”

[misteria247]

Cold.

That's the first thing Moroha noticed as she slowly woke up. The bounty hunter let out a soft groan, pushing herself up from the ground and trying to get her bearings. Head aching slightly she began to rub her temple gazing the surrounding area before her eyes landed on a familiar figure. Once it clicked on who it exactly was a shiver of fear shot through her.

"Oh Gods....! Hisui!"

She breathed trying to get up onto her feet. Moroha stumbled before hitting the ground again, making her hiss in pain. Refusing to give up the teen began to crawl towards the demon slayer, determined to get to him. To make sure that he was okay.

'Just hang on Hisui, I'm coming.'

She begged as she slowly but surely made her way to him. After much effort and strain she finally made it to the unconscious boy's side. Moroha reached a shaky hand towards him and turned him over to face her only to bite back a gasp. Blood was flowing from a head wound, staining his face crimson. Moroha's heart stopped.

'No....please.....don't be.....!'

She prayed as she slowly lowered her head to Hisui's chest to listen for a heartbeat. She about sagged in relief when the familiar thudding of a steady heartbeat filled her eardrums. Lifting her head up Moroha was quick to try and stop Hisui's head wound. Using the end of her cape she slowly began to dab his forehead, cleaning up the blood. As she did this Hisui groaned lowly and with a small amount of effort opened his eyes. Dark blue hues blinked hazy, before meeting with relieved dark brown ones.

"Moroha....? Ah, my head...."

Hisui croaked out flinching as the cape cleaned his face off.

"Thank goodness, you had me worried you jerk!"

Moroha said in a shaky voice. Hisui blinked again before an understanding look crossed his features.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I'll try to not do that anymore."

He said offering a small smile which was more of a grimace. But Moroha didn't mind, just seeing Hisui awake and talking to her put the demon at ease. However the ease didn't last long as Hisui finally took in their surroundings.

"Where are we.....?"

The demon slayer asked slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position despite Moroha's protests. The bounty hunter frowned a look of unease on her face as she tried to figure out where exactly they were. All she could make out was darkness, and a few vines here and there.

"I don't know. It looks like some kind of cave....."

Moroha answered trailing off. Hisui's eyebrows furrowed in worry, a foreboding feeling welling up in his chest. For some reason the cave they were in was making the young teen anxious. The hairs on the back of his neck raising slightly as the silence surrounded them. Looking at Moroha he could see that she was feeling it too, her priestess abilities making her much more sensitive to these things.

"We need to leave Moroha. Now."

Hisui stated already forcing himself to his feet despite the headache he was getting. Moroha went to follow with him before she let out a hiss of pain. Hisui looked over at her and noticed that her leg had been injured. Moroha looked at her leg as well and cursed, she must have hurt it when she'd fallen to get to Hisui earlier. The bounty hunter didn't get a chance to think about it more as a pair of strong arms helped her up. Hisui despite his own injuries was helping her walk.

"Hisui don't you-"

Moroha protested only to be cut off.

"I'm not leaving you. No way. I can handle this I'm a demon slayer. Now just lean on me and let me help you."

Hisui said his voice hard and determined to get them out of here. Moroha stared at him stunned for a brief moment before giving in with an annoyed huff.

"You're so stubborn I swear."

She grumbled under her breath as the duo started to make their slow journey out of the cave. The two stumbled every once in awhile, trying to help the other in anyway they could before they'd finally seen a light ahead of them. Relief filled them as they struggled to get to the mouth of the cave, once they'd gotten there they stepped outside into the light. Stretched before them was a large field surrounded by trees. Moroha couldn't help but feel a small sense of deja vu hit her. Something about the field seemed familiar in a way, yet unfamiliar as well.

"Let's go see if there's a nearby village somewhere and get help. Once we're patched up we'll go looking for Towa and Setsuna."

Hisui said, his tone firm. Moroha just nodded dazed like before letting Hisui hobble them away from the cave and into the field. The sun shore down on them, making Moroha feel more relaxed. She always liked the sun on her skin, it made her feel warm and comforted in a way. As they limped along Moroha snuck glances at her friend. Hisui was staring ahead, his eyes shimmering in the sunshine and his hair even messier than it usually was. His head wound had thankfully stopped bleeding, instead leaving behind a nasty gash in its place. His jaw was clenched, his mouth set into a firm yet determined line. If Moroha was being honest at that moment she'd admit that he looked attractive at that very moment.

The bounty hunter felt her cheeks heat up and she quickly looked away from him, trying to stop her racing heart and her intrusive thoughts. As she calmed herself down she suddenly felt a tugging sensation hit her, drawing her attention to the far off side of her and Hisui. The girl turned her head to the side, dark brown hues scanning the trees while Hisui stopped having noticed her sudden movement.

"Moroha? What's wrong?"

Hisui asked already feeling himself tense up. Moroha didn't look away from the direction she was staring at, instead sniffing the air. Almost immediately a horrid scent hit her nose nearly making her recoil in disgust. Letting out a threatening growl Moroha stiffened already going for her sword.

"Demon."

She hissed in a sharp tone, her fangs bared. Hisui was quick to respond to that already grabbing his Hiraikotsu from his back and somewhat pushing Moroha behind him a bit much to her annoyance. Moroha was about to lecture him about his actions when Hisui held a finger up to his lips to shush her.

"Listen."

He said in barely a whisper. The priestess went quiet listening and realized that the forest had went silent. Not a single sound could be heard. Just the breeze and the slight movement of the grass. The two exchanged a small look before turning back to back with one another, weapons drawn and ready. Even with their injuries Moroha and Hisui were terrifying fighters and were more than ready to take on a possible threat. It didn't take long before the demon made its first move, a large vine like limb shooting from the ground and launching itself at the duo. Moroha was quick swinging her blade down.

"Crimson Dragon Wave!"

She shouted as her sword hit the ground hitting the vine like limbs with a deadly red power lash. Hisui flung his Bone Boomerang towards the other set of limbs.

"Hiraikotsu!"

Hisui shouted as the boomrang went flying severing several limbs at once. The demon who attacked them let out a pained snarl before more limbs shot from the ground and towards them. Moroha and Hisui quickly jumped away from one another as a limb went downwards to crush the two of them. Moroha landed on her injured leg and let out a swear before quickly gaining her footing back. Hisui was a few feet away from her, his eyes lit with anger when he saw she'd landed on her leg.

"Give.....it.....to me......!"

The demon screeched as it swung its root like limbs at them. Moroha grabbed her bow and an arrow when she noticed one of the limbs going to attack Hisui from behind as he took down several more limbs with the Bone Boomerang.

"Heavenly Arrow Barrage!"

The arrow shot out, whizzing through the air like a firecracker before exploding and shooting several other arrows into the limb that was behind Hisui. The demon let out another series of shrieks before turning its attention to Moroha.

"Priestess.....you have it.....! Give it too me.....!"

The demon roared finally showing its full form. It was a nasty looking thing, a body seemly made of different demon parts, it's limbs shooting out in the direction of Moroha. However not one touched her as a familiar weapon flung itself in the way of its attacks.

"Hiraikotsu!"

Hisui's voice filled the air, the demon slayer protecting the bounty hunter just as she'd done with him. The demon at this point was furious at the duo's teamwork and attacks. With one last final roar it swung out all of its limbs determined to hit at least one of them. It'd succeeded as Hisui was hit harshly against the chest flinging him like a rag doll as Moroha watched in horror.

"HISUI-!!!"

She screamed only to be yanked up by another limb and thrown into the air. Time stood still as a sudden shooting pain shot through her side. Letting out a pained scream as the tree like limb pierced her, Moroha turned murderous brown hues towards the demon. With a look of defiance she quickly dug her claws into her wound and slashed at the demon.

"Blades of Blood!!"

The bloody blades went flying slashing the demon in the eyes. It let out a pained and enraged scream as it dropped Moroha onto the ground.

"E N O U G H-! I W I L L H A V E I T-! I W I L L H A V E T H E J E W E L-!"

It bellowed murderously. Moroha barely had time to stand back up before she was hit again making a startled and pained yelp come out of her. Her body hit the ground again, rolling a good bit before coming to a stop. The bounty hunter let out a wheezing wet gasp as her body screamed in pain. The demon still blinded continued to attack uselessly. Moroha fought the pain and forced herself to get up, turning her head in the direction Hisui had been thrown. The demon slayer was laying a good ways away, once again unconscious and his wound reopened. Moroha felt her heart pound with rage.

'Hisui's hurt.'

The demon child forced herself to her feet despite the agony she was feeling.

'Hisui's hurt because of me.'

With shaking hands Moroha reached into her fire rat robe's pocket and pulled out a small compact.

'I have to protect Hisui. I won't lose, not when he needs me.'

Popping it open Moroha swiped the bright red lipstick inside it, painting her finger in it to apply it. The red pearl gleamed brightly in the sun, its power radiating slightly. The demon felt the aura and turned its head towards Moroha. The teen however didn't pay it no heed.

"I don't know what the seven hells you're going on about, but you hurt my friend and you pissed me off. So now you're going to pay. Now prepare for Beniyasha the destroyer of Lands!"

Moroha roared as she put it on. The demon didn't stand a chance after that. Moroha completely destroyed the demon, the blood of her demon heritage singing in her veins as she killed the demon. The demon fell its limbs denigrating.

"I....must have it.....give it to me......give me the.....Shi......"

The demon croaked out as it tried to reach out for Moroha before it perished. Moroha didn't stick around, instead while she could she ran to Hisui. She was only a couple of steps from him before her Beniyasha left her. The girl collapsed next to the unconscious boy. Fighting the pain and exhaustion Moroha reached out her hand to him and grasped his in a weak grip.

'It's okay now Hisui.....we're.....okay......now.....'

Moroha thought as she finally succumbed to the exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep, her clawed hand holding onto Hisui's as they laid there side by side.

~~~~~

"Are we close??"

A young woman asked as she clung onto her companions back.

"Yeah we are. The scent of blood and demon is getting stronger."

A gruff young man answered, running and jumping through the tall grass and trees. The duo had been out and about when the he'd caught scent of the blood and demon. Once he'd told his friend she'd practically begged him to help whoever it was. Which led them to now. The young man finally came to a stop as a familiar field met his gaze. The young woman recognized it as well as her expression now went from concerned to cautious.

"Isn't this where....?"

She asked her friend just to be sure that what she was thinking was actually it.

"Yeah it is. Whatever it is can't be good."

He growled lowly in response. The two cautiously went into the field and began to follow the scent of blood. To their shock the body of a freshly killed demon laid out in front of them along with specs of blood. The woman looked around before a sudden tugging feeling hit her. Turning her head into the sensations direction her gaze landed on two unconscious and bleeding bodies. She couldn't help but let out the horrified noise as she rushed to their side. The man shouted her name before quickly following behind her and caught sight of what caused her distress. His nose crickled up as the scent of blood and something else that he couldn't identify hit him full force.

"What in the seven hells happened here?"

He asked baffled. The woman just shook her head in a dazed manner before getting down on her knees and quickly checking to see if they were alive. To her relief they were though they needed immediate treatment.

"Help me please. We've got to get them to the village!"

She begged a bit. Her companion gave an annoyed huff before going to help her gather the two injured teens. As she reached out she noticed the boy's clothes and the weapon that laid nearby. A shocked feeling hit her.

'A demon slayer....? There's no way.....!'

She thought shaken before her eyes landed on the girl. The young woman paused as she took in the weapons she carried and the bright red ribbon and robe she wore. They looked so familiar......

"Oi, let's go! We shouldn't stay here any longer than we have too."

Her friend's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. With somewhat difficulty she managed to pick the girl up and pulled her onto her back. The teen was surprisingly light which made carrying her much easier. The man had grabbed the boy already as well as his weapon which now sat upon his back along with the teen. Once they gathered the two, the duo quickly left the field not wanting to stay there any longer. As they vanished from view they failed to notice the figure hidden within the forest watching them. He stood there silent as a grave and pondered everything he'd seen.

"Those two.....could be very useful in the future."

He mused softly. He'd keep an eye on these two teens, and keep note of their progress. With that plan in mind the man disappeared into thin air.

*What's this? An actual coherent Yashahime fic??? You bet your asses it is!!! I had a lot of fun writing this! I kinda just went with a small thought and rolled with it honestly lol. I have no idea if I'll continue this since I've already got a shit ton of other series going on. Also if you can guess who the three characters are in the ending here you get a cookie. Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!*

[draconicks]

Come To Your Sister's Embrace (The Lost Girls and David)

He was now fully healed. It took a few months, but now here he was. He had to break a few of his morals and values, and whilst doing so, he always closed his eyes and tried desperately to not listen to the screams of the family that he killed recently. He didn't particularly enjoy himself like he usually would.

However, he was now walking amongst the empty pathway that lead to what seemed like an empty suburban house. It was a light tan with mold growing on the front porch that was being led towards a vine that succumbed the small home. He shuddered and crossed his arms, not from the cold, but from the thought that Max had actually 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 David and the others to live there, and they would have if Michael hadn't gotten them killed. But, he didn't want to think of that.

No, he hated thinking about any of them. He doesn't think he can handle it if he does.

As he took his first step up the stairs, a large gust of wind bursted behind him and he staggered forwards, the smell of vampire rot overwhelming his senstive nose and causing him to lurch forward and grab onto the wooden pillars. His eyes flickered golden and he spun on his heel, his gums aching and his fangs peeking slightly on instinct from smelling another one of his kind.

But he was met with... a girl? He blinked a couple times and his vision then focused.

Yeah, it was a girl. And she was grinning a bit too big for his liking. He bared his teeth at her in warning but she never faltered. Instead she said something that scared the plum shit out of him, "We've been waiting for you to come to us!" she chirped, opening her arms and throwing herself onto David, who yelped and fall backwards from the force. She was rail-thin, her hair obnoxiously curly and tickling his face. "Oh, we haven't seen you since you were a newborn-" she paused, inhaling David's neck deeply. He began to wriggle uncomfortably, "And you smell 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 good." she added, hopping off of him.

David's eyes were now full blown golden and his features had now changed into something lionesque. "Who- what-" he stammered, and before he could get a sentence out, two other girls, one who looked eerily similar to the crazy chick who just lunged at him, and another one with a concerned expression and long, black hair with olive-toned skin. "Bell? Is that...him?" the black-haired girl cautiously asked. Her eyes skimmed him up and down but the other girl, the Twin, just skipped up to the pair and chuckled at the sight of him. "Look it, I think he's scared." she giggled, nudging who David thinks is Bell.

David snarled and he felt his limbs rumble. "I'm 𝘯𝘰𝘵 scared. Who the hell are you guys?" he asked, his fists clenching and his eyes now as hard as stone. "And you shouldn't be here. This is 𝘮𝘺 property." he scowled, his platinum locks falling into his eyes. A beat of silence passed around the three before the black-haired chick then sputtered out a guffaw, followed by two matching laughs that escaped the faeries before him.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 property?" the black-haired girl asked. "Gimme a break." she rolled her eyes and took some steps forward. "Our sister, Kamille, is inside the house, okay? She will want to meet you." she stated, her laugh lines now receding, growing serious. "Max turned you, right?" she asked him, slowly kneeling before him. David's chest lurched and his stomach dropped at the mention of him, "W-what?" a stutter pushed past his lips. The girl standing next to Bell let out a seraphic laugh, "He's so damn cute. Look at him." Bell turned and looked at her before nodding her head in agreement.

The black-haired girl sighed and she shook her head. "Come on, little brother. We're gonna help you." she said lowly. David blinked. "Please," she leaned closer to him and extended a gloved, petite hand, "Let us help you. You're family." she cooed. Her whisper sent chills of comfort down his spine and he couldn't help but gravitate toward her maternal nature, the nature he hadn't recieved in forever. Bell, and the girl next to her then became somewhat serious as well, "Yes, David. Come on, come with us inside, darling." Bell whispered, her accent shining through as clear as day. David couldn't tell if she was southern or not, but an invisible force instead reached out and possessed his hesitant hand, gingerly holding onto his new sister.

Bell grinned widely, as did the two other girls. As soon as David stood up, he then felt light-headed, dizzy even. Then it dawned on him.

They were using their goddamn glamour on him.

But his mind was a bit far gone now, and he couldn't even check in on his surroundings until he felt warmth surround his lithe frame. The sounds of his spurs and a couple pairs of heels clicked inside the house, and before he knew it, another girl, one who had dark brown skin and coily hair was standing infront of him. A glittery, golden jacket was wrapped perfectly around her statuesque figure and hugged her curves, her coils dainty and rested snug on top of her head.

She was beautiful.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she chewed on her bottom lip, "Who is this?" she whispered to the black-haired girl. The black-haired chick patted him on the shoulder and he felt himself get even more woozy, and he could feel himself nodding off. He groaned.

"This is our little brother, David." she answered her, smiling. "David, this is Kamille, I'm Crystal, and the two other girls next to you are Bell and Thea." Crystal's silky voice brung him back down for a sefond before he fekt his mind thrn slip away. The lady infront of him, Kamille, stared at Crystal before flickering her eyes back to him, not expressing any emotion. "This...is him? I thought he would be older." she stated, her high heels clinking as she took steps toward him, grabbing his face and staring deeply into his baby blue eyes.

She slanted her black orbs in disgust and pressed her lips into a thin line, "God...he's so 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨. I thought Max didn't turn kids." Kamille breathed out.

She sighed and pulled back away from him, her hands falling to her sides. A few seconds of silence passed and he then heard the faerie girl, Bell, let out a screech, "So, can we keep him?" she shrilled. Kamille then snapped out of her tiny trance and then stared at the girl next to him. "I don't even know anything about him." she grumbled. "Oh, come on, please! He will be nice! He even smells like us, like 𝘔𝘢𝘹!" the faerie pleaded, bouncing on her heels. Kamille thought for a second before she exhaled and pathetically nodded.

"Yes. He may stay with us, if he is our brother." she whispered.

Loud cheers boomed into the house, and he felt three pairs of arms wrap around him and... a kiss on his cheek? He didn't know who did it but it made him feel warm inside, like how a child feels after getting attention from a parent. "Welcome to the Lost Girls, little brother." someone whispered, before it all went black.

[littlesparkyabdl]

Adventures In The Little Hotel

It was a legend in this old town of Hollow, the legend of the haunted hotel atop the mountain peak.

The legends claimed those who dared enter would never want to leave or more so accurately were made to stay, with only one being able to leave to let the legend spread.

This brings us to our heros of this story, Kyle, Zack and Evan, Each of these boys were part of the supernatural investigation squad. Their goal was simple, prove the existence of the supernatural and become famous world wide. But will their goals be accomplished in this adventure, the only way to tell is to follow their tale.

First we venture to Evan, a pale boy who constantly surfs the web for any scoop he can find, eyes as blue as the sky and hair a sparkling brown. With his new scoop of the haunted hotel he quickly contacted his comrades to inform them of his discovery that was buried with the elders of the town, with only whispers ever being heard.

Next we’re brought to Zack, the tallest of the group with hair as black as the night and his grey eyes glistening with hope. Zack was constantly beaming with hope when searching for the supernatural, its one of the few thing he ever gained an interest in. He isn't the smartest of the group but if he weren't there the group would of given up a long time ago.

And finally we come to Kyle, a tanned boy who was short in stature but made up for it with his intelligence, his hair black with three grey streaks running down the side, his eyes a dull silver. He always would say he was just with the group to prove that the supernatural doesn't exist but in reality he completely believed in it.

With each of the boys contacted and rearing to go they decided to meet at their usual spot, a small cafe near the edge of the town, with each of the boys ordering a milkshake before they venture onto their quest. Kyle with the chocolate, Evan with the strawberry and Zack with the orange. With their drinks consumed they could begin their adventure, they begin making their way down the street through the dark wood path, trees guiding them to their destination.

“T-this place is awfully creepy, and we aren't even in the hotel yet” proclaimed Zack with a slight stutter, his pace slowing down slightly.

“Quit being a coward, This is surely going to be our scoop of the century!” responded Evan.

“For someone who’s supposed to be excited about ghosts you sure do scare easily Zack” said Kyle in a demeaning tone

“Me scared! As if!” responded Zack trying to be manly but failing as he trips on a crack in the path, falling face first into the ground with his baggy pants slowly falling down to reveal his Barney printed briefs.

Giggles were heard from the other two boys seeing the oldest of the group wearing such childish underwear, With Zack hurrying to his feat pulling his pants back up he said to the others in a flustered tone “I-its not like you two wear anything more mature!”

“compared to what you wear anything would be considered mature” Kyle remarked with more giggles coming from Evan

With the situation dying down they started to continue their way to the haunted hotel, they reach the bottom of the mountain and look to see what looks to be an endless staircase going up the mountain with the end barely in sight, the stairs were large and made of wood, able to break at any moment with being as old as they were. As they finish examining the stairs they start to venture forth and make their way up one step at a time, though if they paid more attention they would of noticed the bus that used the road to get to the top of the mountain, though it was hardly ever used.

Going up each step creeks and cracks were heard, with scuttering coming from the bushes lining the mountain. If you looked closely into the darkness you would see small critters scattering about with eyes seeming to glimmer through the lights that were laid out so sparse through the mountains stairs, just enough to see the steps but blinded to everything else.

10 minutes into the journey of the stairs the boys came to a stop needing a break, who knew it would be so difficult to get to the top. As they came to a stop Zack soon noticed his bladder calling for release.

“err… guys I haffa pee…” Zack said as he started to hold onto his crotch.

“heh, my next biggest scoop will be proving Zack to be a pants wetter” came Evan in a sly tone.

“everyone already knows that though, not much of a scoop If ya ask me.” came Kyle with a taunting tone.

“h-hey! I’m not the one that couldn’t stop wetting the bed until I was 10” Zack said in response while flustered.

“now that is a scoop worth reporting on” Evan said in a humours tone.

“y-you weren’t supposed to tell anyone about that!” Came Kyle in a whiney tone.

“technically I didn’t…” Zack responded with with slight guilt in his voice

“how about we have some fun, whoever pees them self first, gets to carry all of our stuff the rest of the way up the mountain and it gets reported in the paper. Of course it wont be all the way up as we should start walking up again soon otherwise we wont get there until morning ” said Evan in a taunting manner knowing full well both would accept.

As if on cue both the other boys said “your on!” and so their journey up the stairs continued after their 5 minute break.

As their journey continued up the stairs it wasn’t even 10 minutes before a whimper was heard coming from one of the boys. With both Evan and Zack looking back they saw what was happening, Kyles legs wobbled as he slowly fell to his knees his bladder giving out and a puddle forming. As this happened a storm came out of nowhere, thunder heard and lightning struck. All bets where off as Zack and Evan helped Kyle from his vulnerable position, the three boys hurried up the rest of the stairs though they seemed to reach the top quicker than they though they would, in fact had had it that it would of taking another 30 minutes to reach the hotel but they made it in 10.

As the boys quickly approached the door they took in the damp surroundings of the hotel, withered plants broken stone paths wooden fencing waiting to give way to the storm. It was a gloomy looking place though the lack of lighting didn’t help.

As they went to open the door it opened on its own, a light forming from the entrance as a ghastly man was waiting at the entrance. The man was pale and had a chill around him, he was dressed as a butler. He must be the caretaker of this old place the boys thought, though if they paid a little more attention they would realise that the light coming form inside the building wasn’t shown through the windows, it was as if it was and entrance to another world.

“welcome home young masters” came the voice of the strange looking man.

“home?” all the boys questioned in unison.

“it is how we greet all our guests at this hotel of ours, I shall be your guide tonight. I am the butler for the lord of this building” the man said now announcing himself as a butler for the estate.

Looking at the boys the man could smell a faint smell of urine coming from one of the boys, maybe two of them he thought.

“hurry inside before you catch a cold” the butler stated as he hurried them in. Little did they know this would be what sealed their fate for their future.

As the boys entered the building they quickly dropped their bags, and quickly dried off with the towels provided by the maids that seemed to appear from nowhere.

“quite the unexpected welcome, I thought this place was supposed to be haunted.” said Evan as he took in the surroundings.

“well the building was supposed to be abandoned” said Kyle taking note of the sudden his his surroundings also.

“who cares, we’re wet and still need a bath these towels will only do so much” said Zack not paying too much attention to anything as his hair poofed up from the rain.

“young masters we do have a shared bathing area available for use, its already filled with warm water. We will also bring a change of clothes for you lot to use. I’m sure our options will please you all.” said the butler as he started to guide them to the bathing area without giving it much thought.

As the boys were guided to the bathing area the maids took their bags and moved them into storage.

As the butler arrived at the bathing area with the boys he motioned to the changing area and said “your new clothes will be placed in here and your old ones will be washed thoroughly.”

Zack was the first to go charging in excited to get a warm bath, he was surprised that this place wasn’t scary in fact he found it rather relaxing.

“if I didn’t know better id think he was a kid with how he acts.” came Kyle with a sigh.

“he has the right idea though plus you do smell from your incident earlier…” came Evan wincing at the odour coming from his friend. “though it isn't as bad now that Zack went away…” Evan noted to himself.

“w-whatever! Lets just get in the bath” Kyle responded while turning as red as a tomato.

“well you probably wanna get changed first” Evan said with in a cocky tone with a smirk forming on his face.

“young masters if you would please hurry as you friend is probably getting lonely without you” the butler said with a sigh noticing that these boys are probably going to cause some trouble if their not disciplined.

The two boys joined Zack in the changing area, with Zack already down to his Barney briefs.

“What took you two so long” asked Zack as he attempted to cover the front of his briefs to avoid his friends from seeing a pee stain.

“i wouldn’t bother hiding your little accident, I can already smell it from here” came Evan in a sly tone as he started to strip from his fairly raggy clothes.

“w-when did you find out!” came Zack in a pouty tone stomping his foot a little, and putting his arms to the side forgetting about his current predicament.

“when you left to get changed first, the smell wasn’t as bad” said Evan in a teasing tone.

Kyle remained silent as he removed his shorts and vest revealing a light blue pair of briefs, though not as childish as Zack he got a few giggles from the boys and a few maids passing by the changing rooms, again the maids appearing from nowhere.

Both Zack and Kyle blushed as they heard the maids and tried to cover themselves with their hands, though this only made them look more childish than before.

As Evan stripped he was left in nothing but a paid a boxer briefs, they were snug against his body and fit him fairly well, they were black and made from a fairly stretchy material.

The boys in unison stripped of their underwear revealing their privates too each other, they hadn't bathed together since they were young so some changes had been made, well perhaps not for Zack he was still lacking in the growth department.

The boys ventured into the bathing area from the changing room, steam filled the air from the heat of the bath and a sweet aroma filled the air. Each of the boys started to relax in the bath taking in the sweet scent almost going into a trance like state, that was until and even stronger aroma was starting to flow into the room.

Zack was the first one to get up, following the pleas of his nose he followed the scent until he was stopped by his friends.

“aren't you forgetting something Zack?” Kyle said while pointing to Zacks lower half.

“i have to agree going around like that wont look good for us yaknow, how will we get a scoop if people become creeped out by us!” Came Evan in an annoyed tone.

As if on cue Zack flared a bright red as he quickly grabbed a towel and covered himself up.

“heh… my bad” came Zack in a sheepish tone.

“young masters is everything alright, I heard a commotion?” Came the butler as he entered the changing area with their new clothes.

“someone forgot he was naked and tried to run all over the place” came Evan answering the butlers question.

The butler sighed as he glanced over the boys “it seems he isn’t the only one who forgot they weren’t wearing anything, ill have to fix this myself” he said too himself but loud enough for the boys to hear.

Kyle and Evan both blushed once they realised they were on full display.

“wait… how will you handle it?” came Kyle in a curious tone.

As soon as he asked Kyles arm was grabbed by the butler, he was put into a pair of power ranger training pants, a dinosaur tshirt and a blue set of shortalls. Kyle blushed as the butler handled him with such expertise as if he had done it before.

“lets see, hmm you’ll be next” the butler said as he grabbed Zack, also putting him into a pair of training pants though these were Barney themed just like his old briefs, he was surprised they came in his size but his surprise was cut short when he was put into a dinosaur onesie and a pair of overalls though these ones seemed to have buttons tailing the inseam of the leg.

“a-aren’t these a bit babyish…” asked Zack while blushing at his current attire.

“they suit you quite well and I’m certain you enjoy them” said the butler with a grin, “you two may of also noticed the padding built into your new undies, this is to prevent any further accidents while your at the manor” the butler said while moving over to Evan.

“i can dre-” Evan said before he got cut off by the butler grabbing him and putting him into a pair of sonic briefs.

“it seems your slightly more mature than the two piddle pants so I’m allowing you the privilege of normal undies, don’t mess it up” the butler said as he then put Evan into a pair of blue shorts and a t-shirt with a large star on the front.

Each of the boys were left blushing from their current experience, they hadn’t been dressed by someone since they were kids, not to mention the clothes they were wearing it made them look like children.

“this certainly wasn’t the scoop I was expecting…” Evan said to himself with a sigh before starting to giggle to himself.

“what’s so funny?” Zack and Kyle said in unison before they themselves started to laugh at themselves and each other.

This wasn’t how they were expecting the night to go, sure they expected someone to wet themselves but the change of clothes, the change of undies it was all completely unexpected to them. Once their laughter had died down they started making their way to the dining area, to their surprise the room was  huge, surely all these large sized rooms couldn’t fit on the first flow Evan thought to himself before the smell of food started to flood the room.

As if it were magic the tables were all set, red and white cloths draped over the tables with a golden trim, the silver cutlery was displayed at each seat and there was more tables that what they’d expect. You could fit at least 300 people in the dining area easily.

As the boys went to pick their own seat they were picked up by the maids, once again appearing out of nowhere and carried over too a set of plastic tables and chairs, they were clearly meant for children to sit at, the table was red and the seats came in a variety of colours.

“Hey! What are you doing!” shouted all the boys in unison, the maids lets out a ghastly giggle before saying in unison “children always eat here” it echoed through the room as a silence feel when they spoke, the boys sat in silence.

Zack remained still scared at their response, it was as if they were all one entity he though to himself.

Kyle simply thought they had rehearsed it the the thought of the undead did cross his mind.

Evan was simply mentally taking notes, he was almost positive this is what he was looking for though his mind thought process started to change once food was set onto their plastic tables.

The food laid out were varied from meats to vegetables and even fruits, the maids provided plastic plates for the boys as set good portions onto each of them, a nice chunk of broccoli, some carrots and peas. Then came the meat, dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets with slices of ham to the side. The fruit was left in a bowl for the boys to help themselves too.

“this meal is awfully… healthy…” Zack said to himself, he normally ate burgers, fries and pizza. He certainly wasn’t the healthiest when it came to food but he still had a slim frame from all the ghost hunting he did.

“its seems better than what I get at home” said kyle, he wasn’t a healthy eater though it wasn’t by choice he just didn’t have the funds to buy healthy food, though thinking of fund a thought came into his head. “how are we going to pay for all this” Kyle said realising their money was in their old clothes.

“this is all on the house” came the familiar voice of the butler as he approached them from behind.

“the master and mistress of the estate shall be joining us tonight, you should count yourselves lucky you got a change of clothes. If you remained in your… how do I put it… rags, yes rags. You surely would have been punished. They have a very strict dress code for young masters such as yourselves” said the butler glancing over them all with a devilish smile.

As soon as the butler finished talking a rather well dressed couple entered the room, the lady was dressed in a dress that looked as if it were for royalty it had a golden trim along all the edges, her hair was long and blond with what seemed to be golden jewels tying it up. The man was dressed in a nice fitting black suit accompanied with a red tie. Then following them were multiple sets of young men dressed similarly to the first man though they were in a blue suit instead of black, they also had a bow tie instead of a regular tie.

“these must be the new boys I requested” said the Lady “you lot can call me mother, just like the rest of my boys do. We are all a family here do you understand” she said in a commanding voice.

The three boys just nodded knowing that if they messed up something bad would happen.

“I’m sure they will be warmly welcome into our family” said the man in black, “you can call me either sir, farther or daddy. do you boys understand?” asked the man in black sternly.

The boys once again nod in unison.

“i said do you understand! I expect you to steak when I speak to you” shouted the man in black

“yes daddy!” came Zack with a blush as he realised what he said.

“yes sir!” came both Kyle and Evan, both of them noticing that Zack said daddy the least mature of the options.

“good boys” the man in black said, grinning at Zacks response knowing he hit gold with this new set of boys.

With greeting finished the woman and the man in black head to their table, it was much larger than the rest and had two chairs that looked as if they were thrones. They are the first too sit down other than the boys as they were the first to arrive, and the babies of the house weren't expected to stand.

Once the Mistress and the Master have sat down the rest of the men follow their example and sit at the remaining tables.

“Henry, what’s being served today” asked the Mistress to the butler.

“today we will be serving smoked chicken with a vegetable soup and bread on the side mistress Helena” came the butler now known as Henry.

“how come none of us asked his name” came Zack while stuffing his face with the chicken dinosaurs.

“h-how can you be eating at a time like this!” came Kyle realising the trouble their in.

“if we don’t hurry we might be stuck at this estate for god knows how long, I don’t know about you guys but I don’t think this scoop is worth that!” Said Evan starting to realise they may be stuck here for more than one night.

“who cares they’ll probably let us go once we start some trouble” said Zack while pushing the rest of his food away until a slap came to his wrist by one of the maids, this quickly made him eat the rest of his food.

“we can talk about this later” said Kyle in an agitated tone, he knew something was fishy about these people but he didn’t know what yet.

“i agree though id prefer we get out of hear as soon as possible” said Evan before he started to eat his food

Helena and the man in black smirked as the boys ate the food, knowing it was finalising what they needed.

Once dinner was over each of the boys started to feel drowsy and it was starting to show.

“maids take the boys to their room” ordered Helena as she stood up and wiped her hands of the food.

Once ordered the maids did as told and picked up each of the boys, the maids seemed to have inhuman strength as normal maids wouldn’t be able to pick up boys that were this size, though perhaps not so for Kyle, he was both small and light as so not much strength would be needed for him. The maids walked up the stairs and went into a singular room decorated with blue walls with a cloud pattern on them, an extremely large bed big enough to fit 5 people, plushes covering one side of the room and what looked to be a changing table on the other side of the room.

Each of the boys were placed on the bed and is if on cue fell asleep instantly, though if they were awake they would notice that the hotels walls outside their room started to move, doors shifted and some vanished never to be seen again.

As the night grew longer and longer the boys started to awaken, though as they awoke each of them bent over noticing a crippling cramp in their stomachs as they went to leave the bed to find a bathroom bars shot up preventing them from escaping.

The shock from the bars sudden movement made Zack jump back distracting him from his stomach, as soon as that happened a foul smell filled the air and his overalls starting to grow in the back, a warm feeling spread across his backside the smell knocking the others dizzy. It was that dizziness that caused the other two boys to fall victim to their stomachs pleas.

each of the boys passed out from the smell not knowing if they would wake up again.

[horrorslashergirl]

Chromeskull x Cop!Reader x The Collector

A dark themed erotic novel for the twisted minds

Resume: You finally come face to face with your past and present nightmare, only to see that what you thought it would happen is far from it. Swallowing your pride isn’t easy, is it?

Chapter 1: Nightshift Turn Out

Chapter 2: Twisted Tongue

Chapter 3: Rising from fire like the Phoenix

Chapter 4: Video Shadows

Chapter 5: New beginning and Past memories

Chapter 6: Lovers Reunion

Chapter 7: Sweet Blackmail (You are here)

Chapter 8: False Freedom

Chapter 9: Ugly Jealousy

Chapter 10: Sinful Ecstasy

Warning: Just the usual manipulation of mind.

The ride back to Jesse's place took almost one hour and a half all thanks to the traffic, Asa's form in the passager seat next to the driver's seat that was occupied by Jesse, driving to his house. He was glad the black-eyed man next to him had put a bigger dose of injection into your system because he wasn't up to you waking up in the trunk of his car and screaming.

Finally, they arrived at Jesse's place, the silver big gate coming into view and opened when Jesse pushed one of the buttons from the dashboard of his car, the gates opening automatically. If one thing could be described, Jesse loved to live in big style, the perfect lawn, modern luxury mansion, marble steps, two pools; one on the front, the other in the back.

After he parked the car, both of them stepped out and walked to the trunk, opening it and seeing you, still knocked out. Jesse picked you up, throwing you over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then went with Asa inside, to the large living-room, setting your form on one of the black velvet armchairs, binding you to it with chains. They sure wouldn't risk in you running around or lashing out like a lion.

They stayed and watched you for some 15 minutes, hoping you would wake up and get the 'thing' started. Of course, this kidnapping operation wasn't all random and out of the blue, they had it prepared for some time, and Asa had to give credit to Jesse for most of the plan, they didn't even know if you really needed to be restrained, especially when you would find out why you should stay put like a good little pet.

A groan resonated from you, as your eyes slowly opened taking in your surroundings and you gaped as your gaze stopped on the two tall males, looking at you, without their masks on. You never would have guessed that behind the black foam mask the Collector looked so...appealing? He had sandy brown hair, swiped back little, obsidian eyes that were shining, the black paint smeared from his eyes across his stubbled cheeks. Next, your eyes moved to the taller male, all dressed in black, bald head and one single brown eye that had a glimpse of curiosity and amusement in it, but what caught your attention was the scarred and roughed up the skin of his whole face, but despite the disfigured face he still held that certain...charisma? Maybe it was the sharp jawline? Or the way he looked at you?

"Finally you're up." the Collector said, walking towards you and extending his hand to cup your chin, only to almost get his hand bitten by your lashing teeth, a deep glare sent towards him, his eyes were wide, maybe by the shock that you actually had the guts to do such a thing, despite your current position.

You were ready for a slap, a punch, a sharp blade to impale you, but nothing, only a glare similar to yours. Well, that was new. You struggled against your bindings, the cold and sharp chains, digging into your biceps and sides, making you hiss in discomfort.

"Too tight?" the Collector asked into a mocking voice, making you furrow your brows more.

"Let me go, you sick and twisted psychopaths!" you screamed, a snarl pulling at your lips. Jesse was smirking at your spitfire attitude; he loved an aggressive girl, all the more fun to fuck the more submission into her and you were just too much enjoyment to pass up.

"When I get out of here, I swear I'm gonna kill you both!" you threatened, wishing you would have a chance to stab both of them between their legs.

"I don't think so." the Collector said, crossing his arms over his broad chest, his lips pulled from a thin line into a lopsided smirk that streamed danger, the kind of danger that makes your skin crawl and chills run down your spine.

A confused look crossed your face from the hateful glare, making Jesse shake his shoulders up and down in what could one say is a silent laugh. You saw him pulled out a phone from the pockets of his black slacks and beginning to type on the phone amazingly fast, only when he was finished to show you the screen, seeing a message.

'I would listen if I were you, piggy. Unless you want to feel guilty for the rest of your life.' You looked from the screen up to the scarred face of your captor, and you knew he read your still permanent confusion from your eyes.

He pulled the phone away from you and began to type on it, then he showed the screen again, only for your eyes to widen and your face to go as pale as a ghost. On the screen, it was a live video of your brothers' living-room, and he was there in his wheelchair with his girlfriend, Spann who massaged his shoulders. Your mouth parted and tried to say something, but you were left speechless, gulping down in total anxiety.

Jesse pulled away, only to type again on his phone, then again showed you.

'Got to say, your brother is quite the loverboy with my assistant. Now, it would be a tragedy if something bad might happen to him. Don't you think, little piggy?'

Your whole attitude changed, your struggling stopped, your glare vanished and you looked at the two with a look that would pretty much resemble a stray cat.

"We got your attention now. Good." the Collector said, moving closer until he was sitting on one of the armchairs, close to you and that didn't help your tension to calm down.

"Think about it like this, your brothers' life is in your hands, and you are into our hands. One wrong move from you and he is gonna end up with the skin of his back ripped off, spread like butterfly wings." the Collector hissed into your ear, making you close your eyes, feeling a bitter taste into your mouth from the words.

'Looks like the kitten lost her claws.' a robotic voice spoke, making you open your eyes, seeing the taller man leaning against the other arm of the chair, pretty much you were between them, their gaze making you feel like an ant, so easy so squish under their feet.

Your chin was caught into a firm grip, making you look gaze with the black eyes that haunted your dreams for a long time.

"Well? Are you going to behave or should we put a demonstration?" the Collector said, making your eyes widen.

"N-No!....I-I am going to behave." you whispered, swallowing down your pride, nibbling on your bottom lip in nervousness, until he tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb.

"Stop doing that, unless you want me to do it for you." the Collector said, his tone and vibe screaming authority, without having to raise his voice too much.

You felt the chains been undone, your arms and body now free, but your mind screamed to stay put, you couldn't risk your brother's life because you were stubborn. The screen of the phone was flashed again in front of your eyes and another message.

'Sweet! Now let's get to know each other. Name's Jesse Cromeans, the infamous Chromeskull, little piggy, and my friend over there is Asa Emory, better known as the Collector.'

So these were their real names?

Jesse got up from the arm of the chair and beckoned you over with his index finger, making you gulp down, not knowing exactly what you were supposed to do. You got the silent answer as he flashed in his other hand one of the large hunting knives, twirling it in an impatient way. Slowly, you got up and walked towards the bald man, until you were in front of him.

Your eyes were trained on him as he raised his hand, moving to the back of your hand where he tugged on your hair-tie, your hair falling on your shoulders, free from the ponytail.

'Wear your hair down from now on. I like it better this way.' he typed on the phone, making you feel your cheeks warming up at the words.

He moved his knife in front of you, the sharp tip of the blade moving to your chest covered by the police uniform, popping the first button of your shirt, then the second and third, until your bra-clad chest came into view. The bra was black and lacy, and you saw Jesse shiver, his tongue coming out to lick his upper scarred lip, brown eye drinking in your form.

'Doll, are you asking for it?' he typed fastly on his phone, making you blush deep red at the suggestion.

"W-What? N-No...I wouldn't..." you shuttered, taking a step back, only to collide with the bulky form of Asa, a squeak leaving your lips from the sudden contact, only for your body to move forward, your face now buried into Jesse's chest, the scent of his expensive cologne and cigarette smoke invading your nostrils and making you feel a little dizzy.

You felt his chest rumble, a silent chuckle vibrating. The next thing you felt was a hand pulling gently on your hair from your neck, exposing your left ear and the back of your neck, hot breath hitting your skin there.

"You know. You should feel very grateful, little pet. Normally, anyone else would have either ended up dismembered and assembled as an insect or either gutted in the most disgusting way and put in a coffin." Asa whispered into your ear, making you whimper, only for Jesse's hands to come on your waist and back, rubbing there in a soothing way, but you knew it was all mockery.

"A-Are you going to kill me?" you asked, your hands grasping onto Jesse's shirt, feeling like the darkness would swallow you up between these two dangerous men.

"Kill you? That would be a waste, butterfly. Such a pitful waste." the man behind you said, his lips hovering just an inch from the nape of your neck, shivers running down your spine.

This was insane; you would have probably guessed they would kill you, torture you, but not this form of kidnapping.

"Y-You're blackmailing me." you stated, tears forming into the corners of your glassy eyes.

'I wouldn't call this blackmail. I prefer the term a sweet trade. All you have to do is be a good little doll.' the electronic voice from Jesse's phone spoke. From the looks of it, he was a mute, but that didn't make him any less dangerous.

"P-Please...I-I don't want this." you tried to put some sense into them, begging, but you knew it was all in hopeless ways.

"Shhh...We didn't ask. We DEMAND it." Asa snarled, his teeth sinking into the back of your neck, a loud cry leaving your lips, only to be silenced by Jesse's rough ones, your eyes wide open seeing his half-lidded brown one.

'Enjoy, sweetheart.' Jesse's phone spoke for him, his thumb whipping your tears away from your flushed cheeks.

[vintage-brass-tc]

4/30/2021

On Friday, a marching band event was held at M’s new school for all the band kids. This was one of the many meetings to prepare for the busy year ahead of us, including the sessions I mentioned in the past couple of months. This one happened to be about our choreography!

I’ll get right into it. Let the highlights commence.

||||||||||||||||||||||||

I never found direct instructions on getting to the room we were set to go in, so I roamed the clearing when I entered, guided by the different people standing at certain checkpoints in the hallways. I reached a certain spot in one hall and there was a door blocking one of its directions. My gut told me to maneuver through it, but I didn’t, instead listening to the hall guy’s instructions.

Soon enough, I made it.

I walked into the auditorium, pretty confused as to why we would be placed there. I was very obviously puzzled when I then entered the room and realized. Not only were there like…only fifteen kids inside the area, but by some coincidence, W was there too. I was led to the wrong place.

W was already looking at me prior to we had made eye contact. He tilted his head to his left and furrowed his eyebrows at my arrival. I mirrored his movements, being just as baffled as he was. He then began to walk around the occupied chairs he stood behind.

He strode over to me and stopped around 8 inches away. He then leaned towards my face, making his usual serious eye contact. “Are you here for marching band?” His face was full of curiosity. “Yes, marching band.” I replied. I attempted to stay calm under his piercing gaze, which was always hard, as much as I’ve seen it before.

“I thought so,” he stated, “I’ll walk you there.” Without any wait whatsoever, he began p to move briskly up the wooden stairs of the auditorium. I speed-walked behind him. With quick strides, he glided through the backstage area. His quick footsteps reverberated throughout the room, followed by my rushed ones as I jogged to catch up with him.

I finally made it right behind him before we exited the room and we walked together in silence, which was accompanied by the taps of our shoes on the thick floor beneath us. I decided I wouldn’t leave him hanging. “Thank you for helping, W,” I said to him, genuinely. “Mmhm!” He hummed happily.

Soon we arrived at the starting destination.

“And here’s the band hall!” He exclaimed, beaming, as we entered. “Uhhh...” I felt my face flush slightly with embarrassment as I looked around. The room was empty, minus the four or five staff members present inside it. He froze for two seconds, slightly stunned. “I guess they already left.” He said.

“Haha, yeah.” I responded to him and chuckled after muttering to myself, “of COURSE they did.” Luckily, after our little moment of humiliation, we weren’t left hanging for a while. A lady went up and offered to lead me to where the marching band was. Of course, I gratefully took up that offer.

“And I’ll follow YOU (this time)!” He said in an upbeat tone of voice. “Hehe, alright!” I giggled. I shot my head back to smile at him, and he was already smiling. He moved with an adorable bouncy walk too while he trailed behind us.

We all walked for a little bit before the girl began some small talk about what instrument I played and whatnot. W parted from our little group at some point during the awkward conversation.

~~

“And through this door here...” she told me.

Funnily enough, it was the other side of the door that I had the gut urge to pass earlier. I suppose my ignorance led me to seeing W though, so it wasn’t all that bad. The lady smiled and I passed through the now un-propped open door while she held it for me.

“Thank you.” I told her in a quiet voice. She responded with a smile before softly shutting the door. I turned to look around the room, which was a gymnasium. Groups of people were either at the front or the sides of the room, chatting amongst themselves.

While I stood, a friend in my section greeted me joyfully, told me where to put my stuff down, and all that jazz. I placed my mildly translucent water bottle, hair-tie, sunglasses, and phone down on the flat, open seat-like area on the wall. In hindsight, I probably didn’t need the sunglasses or hair tie, but oh well. Bless the great indoors!

After I carefully pushed my gray sweater off of me, I noticed that all of the kids were beginning to gather on their spots at the front, so I followed suit. We soon stood in a formation of neat rows and columns after some slight controversy on who should stand where in line. After that, the rehearsal began.

~~

I didn’t see M at first when I walked in, but soon my eyes were gifted with the sight of his presence. Soon enough, he started to speak into his microphone. His voice and appearance is always better in person than it is in my head. ❤️

I believe he greeted us and thanked us for coming out to join him, but briefly due to a time crunch. He then let the choreographer introduce himself. While the guy talked and gave us a starter, M leaned on the wall.

I took this time to take in his outfit, and thank goodness I did. M looked great. All I’ll say to avoid being super specific is that he wore a hat as usual, and a long-sleeved baby blue shirt.

Fast forward during some preparation on posture and terms to remember, we began our first lesson in our dancing: A quick instruction on tendus. Soon after starting to demonstrate them, the choreographer told the front few rows to get low so the back could see what was going on.

He presented to everyone how they would shift their weight correctly and point our inner leg out in front of us while we did this. We then learned the correct way to lift that leg off the ground on each side and did some reps on those. Yada yada.

As the repetitions progressed, I noticed that M began to record the class. I figured he would use this footage for the future in case we had to learn these again in class. At 2-3 points in time, the camera was pointed right at me while I relayed the movements the class was taught. And it wasn’t even for a second. It was more like 8-15 seconds, give or take.

One of the times, I snuck a long glance at the camera, and then at him. He met my eyes while he was taping and stared into them with a pensive and interested look. His luminous dark brown eyes shone as a puppy’s would when begging for scraps.

I felt a light smile begin to tug at my lips as I looked into his eyes for a moment longer. I then focused back on the task at hand while he did his thing. He soon started panning the device to his left, and stopped taping (for now) after 6 seconds or so afterwards.

I would like to repeat that this happened at least 2-3 times, each during different reps...HDHGGHDYGS. I feel helpful. Just hoping my face wasn’t that red in the footage.

~~

After this fiasco, we were being taught how to bend one leg and glide the other across the floor in a circular motion without bending it. I’m not quite sure what the term was for this exercise (I think we called it a bend?), but it was pretty fun!

At some point during the leader’s examples and explanations, M walked near me. When I saw him in the corner of my eye, I internally flipped out. I felt his body give off some heat, which traveled smoothly from him to me. I felt my heart-rate begin to increase at the contact, and my eyes widened a little bit as well.

My head twisted somewhat to the left so I could get a better look at him. He was about 5 inches to the left and a foot behind me, and he stood still, now facing the front, while he held his phone up.

A second and a half later, he sat down quickly yet softly right where he was standing.And when I heard that? I swear I could feel my pupils dilate because HOOOH, I was beyond happy.

I shifted my body and hand’s position on the ground so I would appear more vertical and orderly. This way, he would get a better shot of the instructor without my hair or something being in the way.

He sat there for a good while as he got the footage, then stood up a little bit before we were off to begin attempting the movements. The excitement never left inside me. I was smiling that whole time.

~~

Boom, first water break!

All the kids cheered and started chatting while they went to grab their stuff.

As the others spoke, I looked over at him. He was smiling, confused and attempting to do a tendu while the instructor guy watched. He wasn’t great at it, but the sight made me feel even more relaxed than I had felt before, since it reassured me he wasn’t perfect at everything.

After some more chatting between the people in my section, we were called over to get back into practicing. When we came back, we learned what a passé was and how to do it. Again, while everyone’s eyes were fixed on the dancer in front of us, I felt some warm air hit my back as I sat on the ground. This breeze was accompanied by the sound of shoes hitting the floor.

He strolled slowly behind me once again, unknowingly teasing me with our closer proximity, along with the scent I so dearly loved that more noticeably lingered around him. The amount of time he took and how close he was when he moved near me leads me to believe his actions weren’t entirely unconscious.

After the slow trail, he came to a stop in the same place as before, to the left and just slightly behind me, only about three inches from my side. He then moved a little closer and sat down right next to me, just avoiding the touch of our knees.

We were seriously that close.

I adjusted myself just as I did last time, so I wasn’t too close to him to make him uncomfortable, although I did allow my body to lean juuuust a little bit near him. He didn’t seem to mind too much.

My mind began to spin a little as his cologne engulfed me, the mask I had on failing to block it, and I closed my eyes to take in the atmosphere.

How warm he felt compared to the room around me.

How his breathing was barely audible, yet so comforting.

How the aura he set out put me in a sense of calm, as if I was protected.

How just the mere presence of him right beside myself put me at ease.

I opened my eyes and didn’t even try to fight the smile already planted on my features when I turned my head to the left. I looked at his face, which was fixed on the instructor, but it had a twinge of softness as well. It may have been my imagination, but I believe he was smiling a little bit too.

Being here, coexisting with him felt so natural to me, and I surprisingly kept my composure the whole time.

Because my head was already rotated, I casually tuned in to the directions while watching the movements being taped on his phone. He probably noticed my attention because, again, he was grinning, and he seemed very content as well.

Interrupting our silent moment, his phone displayed the ‘10% battery remaining’ icon, which almost made me laugh. He dismissed the warning without a second thought against it and continued recording.

I looked back at the real choreographer, and not too long later we were told to stand up. This time, he remained on the ground. I stood up, leaning on my left hand at first, so for a quick moment I was moving my body towards him. Despite this, I got up as cleanly as I could just in case I would end up doing something dumb, like falling on him.....or bumping his head with my hip. 😳

He sat there for an extra two seconds before he, himself, got up, beaming. From the little view I got from gazing down at him, the way he sat was just adorable. He reminded me of a child—he looked so young. Younger than I remember at least. <3

~~

The choreographer gave us a speech about how the little things matter and stuff in band especially, just basically something meaningful, and I looked at him during part of it.

He already had his soft eyes set on me.

He nodded slowly at me with a huge grin that caused noticeable dimples, even with the little space the mask was covering. While the encouraging words were spoken, it looked like he was getting emotional. Like was growing closer and closer to crying. Aww. 💕

I allowed my body to cave in slightly and I gave him a timid smile while tilting my head to the right.

The way he looked at me with encouragement was so lovely. His acting was so....personal. So vulnerable. Unlike the tough and dominant demeanor he set out when I had him in the past.

I’m so proud of him.

When the first closer was finished, he gave out his own speech.

“You’re all probably hurting in places you’ve never felt before,” he told us, making us laugh, “and that’s okay!” He then reminded us that we’d have to teach each other these moves, and probably teach him too in the future.

He mentioned that he tried to get footage on the phone to help him as much as he could, but then his phone ran out and he was like *!!!!!* panicking. He said this very expressively, putting his hands out in front of him like he was holding two tennis balls.

Again, I found it so cute that he was being more like himself than ever before in this crowd. He’s way more open than I remember from the past. He used to be more hesitant when it came to showing his weakness.

After those thoughts were out of the way, he spoke with a clear voice, telling us all how the conductor’s statement of ‘the best bands are the best at the smallest details’ spoke to him and represented his usual motto clearly.

He was speaking with so much passion in his voice that I bet everyone could hear it.

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WOW, that was a bunch to unload! I need to stop worrying about including everything so I can get these out sooner and do better stuff with my time. Hopefully this was worth the wait, and if not, oh well! Just finding some time to ramble about stuff that happened with M. 😂❤️

If I begin posting about stuff from this week too, it’s just an excuse to talk about M and W, so you can ignore it. GJDHSJGSA — It’ll only be small things anyway!

Alright, think I’m done here! Have a great weekend everyone, and stay safe. School year’s almost over, so we better make the most of it. :)

[yeojaa]

SUGAR HIGH, chapter vi. (w. JJK)

You're not entirely sure when it happened, though you'd come to terms with it. You'd counted the days, waiting for the inevitable. You'd truly thought you'd be okay, but by the broken, half-beating thing in your chest - you knew you'd never really been prepared.

alt summary.  You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

pairing.  jeon jungkook.  mentions/involvement of ot7.

tags.  angst, break up, post-break up, comfort, OT7, slow burn, friendship, moving on, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, emotional baggage, fluff, canon compliant, jeon jungkook is bad at feelings, jeon jungkook is a good friend, jeon jungkook is a sweetheart.

rating.  general (for now?)

word count.  ~2400

chapter 6.  What You Wanted

If you need someone who can love you while he's gone, baby, you've got my number.  When you realize it ain't him that's on your mind, baby, you've got my number.

For how much you love the song, he'd think you'd realize by now.

The scenery glides by, grey giving way to more grey.  You've got a bucket hat pulled low over your head - one of Jungkook's, you think, or possibly Hoseok's - and AirPods shoved into your ears.  Familiar melodies keep you company as you stare out the window.

Why do you feel so nervous?

It's silly, really.  You've known them for years.  Being around them is as easy as breathing and when they have you doubled over in a fit of laughter, it feels like home.  There's something about the ease with which they'd accepted you into their lives, a complete comfort found in the twinkle of their eyes and shape of their mouths.  It didn't matter that you saw them as often as you did your distant cousins (at least, nowadays).  It was always easy. 

It's because you're with him, you can practically hear Yejin's eye-roll.

You don't think she's wrong - you just don't want to think about the implications.

Because he's your best friend.  Has been since you were seven and you were the new kid, all awkward limbs and poorly done hair.  (Your father had tried - he really had.) 

He's everything you could ever ask for, your hopes and dreams come to life like a pumpkin on a fairytale night.  He's never asked for anything from you, except maybe the last bungeo-ppang.  For more than half of your life, he's been a reassuring presence, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold.  Even when he was gone, he was there with a funny message, or a delivery, or most rare, a little Easter egg in a public tweet.   

You would have given him anything he wanted, if he'd ever asked.  

But he didn't, and that was okay.  You didn't need him to want you back.

You just wanted to be there as he gleamed like the star he was, even if it meant dulling your own light a little bit.  You didn't need to be his moon and stars, so long as he shone even brighter.

"What's that?"  The boy with the big eyes and bigger smile is towering above you, shadow encompassing the little anthill you've made out of barely wet dirt and dredges of torn up grass. 

Despite how skinny he is, he feels larger than life.  Maybe it's the way he speaks to you like he's known you forever - as if you weren't the new girl halfway through the year, with a skirt that's not very well-ironed and a cowlick on the crown of your head.  Or maybe it's because he's too focused on the thing he's actually interested in - little fish-shaped breads tucked into a crumpled brown bag.

It takes you a moment to answer, curiosity lining the furrow of your brow as you try to decipher the enigma that he is.

(It really isn't that deep but you're uncertain and shy and you think your answer might be the key to all of life's mysteries.)

"Bungeo-ppang," you finally answer.  Your fist is digging into the bag before you have a chance to think better of it and then holding out one of the pastries to him.  You grip it tightly, as if it's a piece of your heart you're hesitant to give it away.

Your father had painstakingly made them for you, just like your mother had. 

"For me?"  Somehow, the strange boy is surprised, fuzzy eyebrows disappearing into his mop of hair.  

For a moment, you wonder if you should snatch your hand away.  He's waited too long to take it.  Now it's awkward and you're huffing a breath that puffs your bangs away from your hair.  "If you don't want it--"  You don't mean to grumble.

You'd just wanted to be nice.

"No, I do!"  In the same breath, he's grabbing the offering and shoving it into his mouth.  "I'm Jungkook," he explains around a mouthful of red bean and bread.  When he smiles, his eyes nearly disappear, forced into little half moons by his soft, rounded cheeks.

Your hand's still outstretched - you're trying to process everything that's happened in a very short period of time - and he grabs it.  He shakes once, twice, like he's seen his father do, but his hold is flimsy, lacking practice.  Still, you grip his fingers with your own and shake just as vigorously.  You look like you're about to have an arm wrestling match.

"I'm Soomi."

By the time you've navigated the complex - it somehow never gets easier - you're late.  Or maybe it's because you spent a half an hour in the nearby Paris Baguette, debating what to pick up for the second time in less than twelve hours.

(Yes, you liked carbs.  They also liked you, and the way you let them settle on your hips.)  

Either way, you're finally there, bag of goodies carefully balanced against your hip and bottom lip gliding sharply through teeth.  You knock once, pause, and follow up with three in quick succession.  

It's your knock - so you think they won't be surprised. 

But when the door flies open and there's arms wrapping around your waist, hoisting you off the ground as if you weight nothing, you can't help but shriek.  The bag hooked around your elbow swings wildly, surely hitting your attacker in the head.  He doesn't seem to mind, though, big brown eyes gleaming as he's all but dragging you backwards into the suddenly boisterous apartment.  He doesn't even let you down before you feel another pair of arms swinging around you.

"What are you doing here!"  Jimin's usual rasp is all but squealed into your back, his cheek pressed flush against the curve of your shoulder.  It's nearly lost in the sound of the Taehyung's low rumble - he's so close you can count each individual eyelash, make out the faintest shadow of facial hair across his upper lip.

"What a nice surprise."  But he doesn't sound very surprised at all.

"I told Jungkook I'd be coming by," you explain once the giggles have subsided, ebbing into breathless hiccups.  Taehyung doesn't seem to mind, though, his arms still wrapped quite comfortably around the circle of your waist.  

"He didn't tell us," Jimin chirps, a look of indignation marking his soft, pouty mouth.

"Jimin-ah, it was a surprise,"  Taehyung reassures as he spins on his heel, bare feet carrying him silently back the way he and Jimin had just come from.  Back to the remaining gaggle of Bangtan Boys, all in various states of relaxation.

There's Seokjin, standing in the kitchen, handful of Honey Twists almost at his mouth.  He looks like he's been struck by lightning when he realizes who Taehyung is carrying rather unceremoniously, a booming 'Soooooooomi!' leaping past the oncoming snacks. 

There's Hoseok and Jungkook, sitting beside each other on the large, L-shaped couch.  The former's face splits into his mega-watt smile and you're reminded of a child on Christmas day.  It makes your heart flutter with affection before you're finding his face, one that's equal parts surprise and something else.  You're not sure it's meant for you, though.  But you do note the way his stare flickers down - to hands clasped across your back - and returns to your face, expression falling for an almost imperceptible moment.  You'd have to ask him about that later.

Then there are two heads bobbing down the hallway together, one looking decidedly disheveled.  Yoongi must've just woken up from a nap, if the creases in his cheek are an indication.  On the other hand, Namjoon looks well-rested, the glasses he occasionally wears sliding down the bridge of his nose when he tosses you a welcoming grin.  

At this point, you're keenly aware of the fact that you're still a foot off the ground, carefully balanced across a warm body.

"You can let me down now."  Of course, Taehyung does so without further prompting, setting you back on solid ground.  He flashes his trademark boxy smile, a golden retriever in human form, and retreats a respectful step back.  

Turning your attention back to the boys, you cannot help but sing the next words, proudly displaying the presents you've brought along.  "I've got dessert!"

It takes no time at all for the pastries to be devoured, each morsel disappearing like they'd never existed in the first place.

You were always surprised how much they could eat.  It's like they were walking garbage disposals or black holes, voids of space where things went to die.  (In reality, it's their demanding schedules and back-breaking practices that have thrown their metabolisms into overdrive.  Lucky bastards.)

"Did you miss us?"  Silk tickles your nose, strands of Jimin's soft blue-grey toned hair falling across your cheek.  He's balanced on the arm of the couch, lissome frame contorted over yours in a way that looks uncomfortable but doesn't seem to cause him even an ounce of issue.  

You can't help but roll your eyes, the motion guided by adoration as you meet his gaze.  He really is so pretty.  "More than I can explain."

He preens at this, though it comes as no surprise.  After all, they were the family you'd chose (or rather, Jungkook had, which forced you along for the ride).  He shifts, sleeves of his oversized cardigan dragging across his finger tips as he twines them through your hair.

"I thought you were blonde."

It comes without warning - crashing into you with sudden, surprising uncertainty.  "It doesn't look good?"

"Of course it does."  Jungkook's quicker from a few feet away where he's been relegated, stuck between cushion and Hoseok once again.  He should've moved when he had the chance, taken up the seat that Taehyung currently occupies.  He'd be the one feeling your frozen feet against his thigh, toes seeking warmth.  You'd always run cold. 

"You look good with any hair colour,"  Hoseok reassures, reaching across to mimic Jimin's actions.  "Your last photo was blonde, though.  It's just different."

You release a breath you hadn't been holding and you can't help feel a little silly. 

Stop it.

"I had to colour it because no one looks as good as Jiminie with blonde hair."  You coo and you swear he blushes three shades darker, from the tips of his ears to his Cupid's bow.  It comes across teasing, salacious even, but there's nothing but cotton candy fluff and pastel-coloured candy hearts.  

"Stop," he whines, rolling off the back of the couch and disappearing into the kitchen.

You'd known these boys so long that it was almost too easy to push their buttons.  Then again, it meant they knew your weaknesses, too.

"How's Seunghoon-hyung?" 

It's innocent, posed in good faith and wrapped up in baby's breath.  You'd always chided them for not liking him so they made an effort - as much as they could.  They'd ask how he was, inquire when they knew it was a special occasion (your birthday, Christmas, Pepero Day even).  So you know it's with nothing but well-meaning that your heart shatters in your chest, crushed beneath the weight of a simple question.

They didn't know.

Before you can respond, come up with some poor excuse for why your vision is suddenly swimming and 'pardon me' as you surge to your feet, there's a hand on yours, holding you in place.  Two hands, in fact, coming from opposite sides. 

"They broke up," comes Taehyung matter-of-factly from your right, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your wrist.  He says it with no malice, no petulance - as if he'd commented on the weather.  

From your left side, Jungkook remains uncharacteristically silent.  If it weren't for the way he was holding your hand, cradling it between his two, you wouldn't even realize he's there.  From the look on his face, you wonder if he'd rather not be.  There's tension straining, nearly splitting a very carefully crafted facade.

"Are you okay?"  It's meant for just the two of you, spoken like a secret as he meets your concerned stare.

"Yeah."  There's the heartbreaking smile you love, offered just to you.  "But only if you don't cry.  If you do, I'm going to have to do something about that.  

"I won't - promise."  You're wiggling your pinky within his grasp, pouring all of your appreciation into your smile.  He can still see the residual wetness in your eyes, the way they sparkle when you turn your attention away and back to the conversation at hand, but says nothing.  "Taehyungie's right - we broke up."  You don't mean for your voice to wobble but it does.  You push forward.  "It's okay, though.  I'm okay."

If no one quite believes you, they give you the benefit of keeping it to themselves.

"His loss," Yoongi remarks from his spot on the floor, back pressed to the soft grey weave of the far loveseat.  It's maybe the second time he's spoken since being so rudely woken from his nap.  It's important that you hear this.

"Soomi-ah, it's okay.  You have seven other handsome men to take care of you!"  Everyone is laughing at the way Seokjin rounds the corner, chest-puffed out like he's some kind of tropical bird doing a bizarre mating dance.  It's so cute you really could cry. 

But because you made a promise to your best friend, you join in on the hilarity instead.  "But Jin-oppa, who will keep me warm at night like him?"

Now they're all howling, even half-asleep Yoongi.  Hoseok looks like he might have cracked a rib and Jimin's rolling on the floor, his face almost as scarlet as Jin's as the eldest begins sputtering.  

They're so distracting you miss the way Jungkook stiffens at your side.

'I could keep you warm at night,' he thinks to himself before he has a chance to stop the rampant thoughts, keep them neatly tucked away beneath lock and key.

It's hard when you're so close and you look like every wish he's ever made. 

And yet, you're not even paying attention to him, instead deeply satisfied as you hum with amusement. Glee vibrates out of your body like it's aching to escape your bones and find a new home in his chest.  He'd let it, honestly.  He'd crack his insides apart into dust if it meant somewhere for you to lay your head.

Jungkook supposes that's a good thing when you're leaning into Taehyung's side, the two of ribbing Seokjin like some sort of stand-up comedy special.

If that was him, everything out of his mouth would be about you.

notes.   this was fun to write because the boys are all so cute and special in their own ways. i hope i did them justice and you enjoyed. 

as always, thanks for reading. <3

[ayakashiramblings]

ABC NSFW Headcanons: Koga Kitamikado

So... in my absence, the only time I went on ARR was to vote for Koga and Aoi. And I just realized one of my top boys is literally at the top! Hence, I’m going to do a super late tribute... 

ALPHABETICAL STYLE!!!

... I’m so sorry for ‘D’ though. Click on ‘Keep Reading’ to NOT SEE IT.

A - ‘Aftercare’ (What they’re like after sex)

Once you’ve been intoxicated by Koga… YOU GET EVEN MORE DRUNK WITH SAKE.

Seriously, a nightcap is what ends a nice round of magic… because he has much more in store!

“I’ve rolled the die to give me a one! That’s super odd!”

Goddamnit, kiss this dork, please. 

Because only amongst soft kisses will the both of you be lulled to sleep.

B - ‘Body’ (Body Part of Yours he Loves)

Your head.

… Wait, no, not like that. Sort of. Hmm...

It’s just that he wants to be closer to you and he’s extremely soft for forehead touches during these tender moments. 

Feels like that’s where you share everything, your thoughts, your deepest secrets... everything. 

C - ‘Cum’ (How does his cum taste like/look like)

You know what? I think it’s pretty good.

At first, I wasn’t certain because he is a sake lover and that will affect the taste.

Plus, he didn’t really say what he likes in Hot Pot, although I’m guessing it has to include thinly sliced meat and leafy vegetables. The thing is beef isn’t good but if he pairs it with the right non-cruciferous veggies, it could come out decently.

Another thing I’ve noticed is his regular food intake. Sure, it’s called an old man’s diet like what Kuya says but pickles and rice for breakfast are good if you want extra flavour.

So it’s one of the tops in the list for the fact it has enough volume with a taste that isn’t bitter, salty or sweet. It’s just... 

Warm. 

D - ‘Dirty Secret’ (DUH)

He hates peaches but...

Your butt... is like the only kind of peach he would ever consider eating. 

Brown peach, peachy peach, pale peach, green peach and whatever the colour your panties are today, he’s going to really secretly enjoy the fuzzy texture but also silently HATE that the closest comparison is his least favourite fruit. 

E - ‘Experience’ (Does he know what he is doing?)

He’s had a few partners but that doesn’t negate the fact that he literally takes any challenge by... the horns. 

He does go to the Entertainment sector but honestly, he’d get closer to the sake bottles then the women there first.

That said, he’s very observant and can suss out any sensitive zones you have to get you screaming all night is all I’m saying. 

F - ‘Favorite Position’ (Again, duh)

Don’t kill me. 

But it’s the CowGirl position.

Not only does he get to see you in all of your magnificent, unclothed glory... (or maybe with clothes? It’s up to you, hun.)

But there’s something about a strong woman just topping him that makes him go wild, especially when she uses his horns to guide him to her entrance as she sinks down on him.

G - ‘Goofy’ (Serious or humorous?)

Dude, expect the both of you to burst out in ridiculous giggles if any supposedly sexy line comes out wrongly.

“Hey, Koga, are you feeling... horny?”

“Depends, are we going to be thoroughly... purified in the shower?”

H- ‘Hair under THERE’ (Pubic Hair Treatment, does the carpet match the shades?)

He does get uncomfortable if any hair on him gets too long for... certain reasons. 

So yup, don’t expect a bush.

It’s interesting how the middle is entirely crimson red while the surround curls are black but Koga sometimes wonders if his lower part is bleeding as a result. 

I - Intimacy

Ladies and gentlemen, the #1 in intimacy. 

He really... really... REALLY does not want to ever lose you again so he keeps his body so close to yours.

Every time he recalls the past inferno, he would be sure to drown out the memories by stroking the flames of passion with his fingertips against your skin. 

And he will check that your eyes are still full of life, even when both of you are in the midst of a climax.

J-Jack Off (Masturbation)

Honestly? Maybe once in a blue moon last time.

This man has had to deal with running businesses, establishing connections, terrible nightmares of losing his woman, and controlling his Carnage. As cheery as he is, he’d rather dedicate his free time to helping the Capital.

Until he met you NOT dying in his arms. Now, he had to give in to these sudden carnal urges that are coming at him with full force to make up for his lack of horny times in his teens. Usually, he tries to satiate them with actually having you but if you are busy, he will do so.

K- Kinks (One or two of his kinks)

Get his horns. 

Have I emphasized it enough? 

No? 

GRAB THEM.

L - Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His office. 

A certain spot will be designated, far away from the precious books that he has accumulated but always near the spot where he can nap for just a short while... 

Only to be reminded of your sweet moans, flushed face and great, now he’s wide awake and has to work off that desire... 

BY DOING MORE WORK.

... Kuya decides to invite you more often to the house because he is getting really tired of seeing Koga not actually taking a break. 

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Canonically, he gets jealous easily. Like, he actually beats Aoi in that department. 

Mention Toichiro giving you a beautiful kimono, Kuya sleeping at your place, Past! Koga giving you a book... wait, what?

Yeah, you catch the drift. No matter who it is, he’s going to want to reaffirm your feelings for him afterwards. 

Oh, but the ultimate turn-on is you beating him in a drinking contest.

... God, I’m making him sound like an alcoholic.

N - ‘No’ (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Absolutely. No. Sharp objects. 

Not only will they hurt you, but he’s also worried that if he himself gets pricked, the Carnage will act up.

He IS kinda into the thought of you wielding a sword though.

O- Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

The God of Giving. He gives so, so, so much. 

Whatever did we do to earn this deity?

Ok, to be honest, it was hard at first because he was worried about the horns poking your thighs and tried to do it as a human at first. 

Until you insisted that he be comfortable and try working out the best position for both of you. 

Do suck him right though. He won’t deny his love for a good blowjob. 

He’s even turned the idea of mutual masturbation into a game - who can make the other come first? The winner gets a prize (probably who is going to save everyone else’s asses next time)

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual)

Koga tries not to be rough, considering both of your... er... jobs and shared tragedy together. 

If you grab his horns though... you asked for it. 

Suddenly, he is thrusting into you so hard that you get sent a little higher up the sheets, the bedding getting more wrinkled and... soaked with certain body fluids. 

He’s going to give you make-up kisses to the hip area though because of a guilty conscience... and also to admire how you are still quivering from the aftermath.

Ultimately has a good balance between slow and sensual sex to rough and rapid romping in bed.

Q - Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

Poor soldier. 

Poor COMRADE OF YOURS.

This is his ultimate battle.

To take you right here, right now and bang like there is no tomorrow when technically they only have 10 minutes in some random closet...

Or to patiently and painfully wait for the sake of public decency (and sanitation) where you can be together without being seen? 

Taking you here in the middle of a hallway during a Gala sounds great but so does waiting until you’re behind closed doors so you can be free with those beautiful lips of yours.

Ultimately, the risk factor is what turns him to quickies if he’s particularly flirty but for more serious times, he’s definitely going to whisk you away somewhere for only the two of you.

R - Risks (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

... You know... we are talking about Koga Kitamikado, right?

It’s just a matter of what KIND of risk you guys want to take. A public one, a sex-toy related adventure...

The list can go on PROVIDED neither of you gets hurt.

S - ‘Stamina’ (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

The Carnage does take a toll on this aspect but Koga is an entrepreneur for a reason.

Let his fingers & tongue please you during the moments he has to recharge in between 3 rounds. 

T - ‘Toy’ (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

… Good god, he knows the owner.

But that’s the thing. 

Just because he knows it, unless you’ve expressed interest, he’s going to take things into his own very, very, very capable hands.

U - ‘Unfair’ (How much they like to tease)

Oh, he does tease you if you are acting particularly shy despite being completely nude and fully invested in intercourse.

He’s not going to be as bad a certain fox but he does love seeing you flustered if he hits a certain ticklish spot.

V- Volume (Do they moan/grunt?)

He really hates to admit it but you’ve been the only one to get ANYTHING out from him.

It’s even worse because even Koga can’t deny how animalistic he sounds.  

Growls, grunts, & groans, everything rumbles from him through you in the closest moment.

W - ‘Wildcard’ (Random Headcanon)

Medicine is not the only thing Koga is getting from Yura once you come in. 

No, but seriously, ever since you have given him those tea leaves, he has been hooked on aromatherapy and would like to incorporate that in your sex lives. 

It helps that there are some nice essential oils and massage lotions that help both of you get slick and ready.

Yura can’t judge him because... huehue...

X - ‘X-ray’ (How is the package?)

… I am too embarrassed. Let’s just say he has hit the double-digit integer in inches. 

But if you look at how I ranked him amongst the Dawn and Twilight factions, you know it’s gooD.

Yes, that ‘d’ letter was capitalized. A Capital D for the Man who loves the Capital.

Y - ‘Yearning’ (How high is his sex drive?’)

Before meeting you? His yearning was high… particularly, the yearning to die.

Same, my boy, same.

So honestly, it’s been sort of turned off although he could feel the biological urge and go get someone to relieve him of the ‘baggage’.

Upon meeting you, suddenly he has to adjust his sword hilt and... his other sword.

Z - ‘Zzzz…’ (How fast do they fall asleep?)

Honestly, he’s going to have trouble sleeping the first few times. 

Man is busy and working off that sexual energy just converts his strength to do something else.

Hence, the introduction of sake to share a lovely drink, a lovely moment and a lovely MOMENT TO FINALLY REST... with you!

[redwoodwrites]

Relativity Falls Season 1 Episode 1: Tourist Trap

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12579416/chapters/28652568

Next

A/N:Welcome, one and all, to Relativity Falls! Here you will find the adventures of a certain dynamic duo as they spend the summer at their Grauntie Mabel's utterly tacky tourist trap. Updates will be every Friday, and after each episode there will be a “Short”, a much shorter original fanfiction which occurs in the time between the episodes. See you in a few days, and enjoy All Hallow's Eve! Warning: *This fanfiction may trigger feels, warm fuzzies, and certain amounts of deja vu. *May cause minor amounts of time travel (forward only) *Author does not claim responsibility for any sightings of ghosts, triangles, or woodpeckers that may or may not occur during or after the reading of this text.  Enjoy!

“AAAAAAAH!”

The golf cart plunged over a cliff, punched straight through a billboard, and landed with a squeal on the road below. The two boys in the cart held on for dear life.

“WE'RE GONNA DIE WE'RE GONNA DIE WE'RE GONNA DIE!” Stanley screamed.

Ford jerked the wheel, fishtailing around a hairpin turn. “Hold on!”

The ground shook with an ominous thumping.

Stanley twisted around, gripping the seat's back so hard his knuckles went white. “Floor it, Ford, it's gaining on us!”

A huge monster rose behind them, throwing a massive shadow over the road. The thing was over thirty feet tall, a crazy conglomeration of glaring eyes, sharp teeth, and bright red hats.

It ripped up a redwood as easily as a dandelion, took aim, and threw. Ford looked up and gasped as the tree soared right over their heads, landing so hard it bounced on the road in front of them.

“Look out!”

Ford jerked the wheel. The golf cart careened, tipping left, then right, skidding crazily. The tree's huge trunk loomed like a brick wall. They braced themselves against the dash and screamed.

A few days earlier...

The bus pulled away from the stop sign, leaving Ford and his brother standing alone on the sidewalk. Stanley had his sleeves rolled up, revealing the superhero-themed band aids on his arms, and the suitcase sitting next to him was covered with half-chewed gum.

Ford was wearing his signature aviator jacket, his notebook sticking out of the back pocket of his jeans. His suitcase was covered with stickers of ghosts and monsters.

Ford shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, looking around expectantly. The town's main road was lined with a few stores, most of them restaurants, plus some arcades, a couple of hardware stores, and a grocery store. Aside from a few random pedestrians, the street was empty.

“She does know we're coming, right?” he asked anxiously.

“Dude, who cares?” Stanley put a foot on his suitcase and struck a heroic pose, shading his eyes like an explorer in a new land. He peered at the redwoods that surrounded the town. “Did you even see this place? It's got nothing but forest for miles! It's the perfectly place for buried treasure!”

Ford rolled his eyes, grinning. “Stanley, we don't have treasure yet.”

“Not yet we don't, but I'll bet you anything we'll find it!” Just then Stan's stomach rumbled. He looked down at it. “Right. First things first. Food time!”

Ford opened his mouth to say they should wait to be picked up, but his stomach cut him off. It had been an eight-hour bus ride and he was seriously hungry. He looked around.

“I think I saw a diner around here...”

“There!” Stanley pointed. There was a restaurant set back against the woods, with a flickering neon sign that read Greasy's Diner.

“Sounds...greasy. We don't even have any money,” Ford pointed out. “You spent our food allowance buying those dumb scratch cards. And all they had on 'em were football players with omelets.”

Stanley shrugged cheerfully. “Don't worry, Sixer, the puppy-dog face works every time! Race you to the door!” He ran into the street.

There was a roar and a screech of tires. Ford yelled. Stanley jumped back, narrowly avoiding a bright purple motorcycle. Stan lay on the ground, shaking a little, and Ford ran to help him up. He glared at the driver.

“Hey, watch where you're going!” he growled.

The rider, a heavy-set woman in a blue blazer and pink skirt, revved the engine. “'Scuse you,” the lady grumped, her voice muffled. “What were ya tryin' to do, kid? That is not how you paint the town red.”

“Guh-guh-guh,” Stanley stammered.

The rider paused, then flicked up the visor. She blinked. “Stanley?”

He stared at her. “Huh?”

“It is you!” She whipped off the helmet. Her gray hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she had a heart-shaped face with light green eyes that glowed with warmth. “And you must be Stanford!” she said to Ford. “You two have grown so much I didn't even recognize you!”

The twins gaped.

“Grauntie Mabel?” Ford finally asked.

“The one and only! Hop aboard, kids, we got a lot of work to do at the Shack!”

They looked at the bike. It wasn't just purple. It was glittery purple, with a chrome finish and a matching side car so rusted it looked ready to disintegrate on the spot.

“Um, there's just one seat,” Ford said.

“Meh, you're each, like, half of an adult! So together you'll be fine!”

A slow grin spread across Stanley's face. “She's got you there, Sixer!” He scrambled to his feet. “So you're really Grauntie Mabel? I don't remember you being so fat.”

“And I don't remember you being so ugly,” she said cheerfully. “Now grab your gear and get in, time is money!”

They hauled their suitcases into the sidecar. It was so small they had to sit with their knees pressed to their chest and they couldn't even take a deep breath. She tossed them a couple of helmets and then took off with a roar, tearing down the quiet road at a decidedly illegal speed.

The bike's engine was too loud for talking, but the town had sights enough to keep them occupied. There was a church, a deserted convenience store, a junkyard, and a gigantic mall. Ford caught his brother staring at the mall, mouthing “babes” with a familiar gleam in his eye. Ford laughed.

The buildings petered out as they turned onto Gopher Road. The forest, which was always in the background of the town, now loomed up around them. The redwoods spiced the air with a sharp, earthy smell. Beams of sunlight sliced the forest with bars of yellow light. Motes of dust and quick-winged birds darted through the canopy, and wind rustled the treetops, which were high enough to touch the clouds.

But the trees grew so thick that they cast deep shadows starting just a few feet from the road. More than once Ford thought he saw movement in those shadows – things that scuttled and creeped and seemed to be watching them as they passed. He shivered.

The sudden appearance of the clearing drove the thought from his mind. Mostly because of what was in the clearing.

A two-story, steeple-roofed cabin stood in the middle of the lawn, completely covered in hot pink glitter, right up to the weathervane (which, instead of the cardinal directions, had the letters W, H, A, and T). Under the gaudy sparkles, he could make out a large sign reading “MYSTERY SHACK” positioned on the roof, with a dozen smaller advertisements above the front and side entrances. An enormous pig lounged on the front porch.  A sign next to it read, 'Picture With Pig - $50!' A Native American totem pole was rose a few yards away, but it was hard to tell what the animals were, since all of them were wearing sweaters of various neon colors.

“Um, wow,” Stan said dubiously, as soon as the engine died.

“Don't mind the glitter,” Mabel said cheerfully. “The girls and I just went a little nuts on our last sleepover.”

“Sleepover?” Stanley muttered to Ford. “But she's, like, grandma-age.”

They got out of the sidecar, grabbed their suitcases, and followed their great-aunt. The pig opened one eye and oinked at them, but otherwise didn't move.

The inside, at least, was less sparkly. They'd entered through the Mystery Shack's Gift Shop. Wood floors, wood walls, and a wood ceiling gave off a definite 'cabin' vibe. Most of the walls were covered in overpriced merchandise and taxidermy monstrosities. There were some clothing racks on the right, next to some tables loaded with snow globes and Grauntie Mabel bobbleheads. The back wall had a vending machine and two doorways, one marked “Employees Only” and the other marked “Museum”. The cash register was on their left, under a stuffed bear head with a narwhal horn glued to its brow. A red-haired teenager in a flannel shirt sat behind the register, his face jammed into a Manly Muscles magazine.

Their great-aunt stood in the center of the shop, legs planted wide and hands at her hips. “Alright, kids, welcome to the Mystery Shack!” she said, gesturing grandly. “Meet our first underpaid employee: Flannel Man!”

“It's 'Boyish Dan',” the teen grunted, without glancing up.

“I'll call you that when you stop reading at work!” Mabel sang. “Flannel Man, meet my great-nephews...my grephews?...Stanley and Stanford Pines!”

“Just 'Ford,'” Ford said, at the same time Stan said, “Just 'Stan'.”

“We also have a mechanic around here somewhere,” Mabel told them. “She's usually fixing things, or breaking them, or both at the same time...oh, Maria! Perfect timing!”

The Employees Only door opened, and a woman in her early twenties stepped through. She wore a faded green hat over her curly dark brown hair, a size-XXXL Mystery Shack shirt, and khaki shorts. One hand gripped a tool box, and the other held a broom.

Grauntie Mabel smiled. “Ria, this is Stan and Ford! My grephews! I told you they'd be coming today.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ria said politely. “Mrs. Pines, I fixed the pipes, but I might've broken the copy machine.”

“Oh, that wasn't you, it's been broken for ages,” Mabel assured her. “Anyway, you two boys go throw your stuff in the attic, and then come back down. I've got a tour bus coming at eleven hundred sharp and I need this place to look spic 'n' span!”

“Wait-wait-wait,” Stan said quickly, holding up his hands. “You mean we're gonna do chores?! But we're on summer vacation!”

Their great-aunt pulled two orange coveralls from behind her back. They had black letters on the front reading “Unpaid Intern #1” and “Unpaid Intern #2” on them in big black letters. She grinned mischievously.

“Not anymore! Now get to work, suckers!”

Stanley managed to talk Grauntie Mabel out of the overalls, but she wasn't kidding about making them work. In the first two days of their stay, they scrubbed the Shack from roof to lawn, swept the house, cleaned out the fridge (Ford swore that was actual glitter in that chicken casserole), and reorganized practically the entire Gift Shop. The only thing they didn't clean was the vending machine, which Mabel declared off-limits after she caught Stan stealing twelve candy bars at a time. They'd even had to re-sew some of the taxidermic monstrosities in the Museum.

The exhibits in there drove Ford crazy. It was all he could do not to shout out corrections when she guided tourists through, calling jackalopes “Antelabbits” and introducing them to bizarre creatures like the “Centaurtaur.” Ford was pretty sure she'd just made that up.

Stan, however, loved it. There was at least one hot babe per bus, and he was determined to make a move on every single one.

Ford watched his brother approach a blue-eyed brunette who was browsing through the shirt rack.

“Do you know a good dentist?” Stan asked, leaning casually on the rack and grinning. “'Cuz you're so sweet I'm gonna get cavities.”

She leaned away from him. “Um, ew.”

Stan didn't give up. “So do you have a name, or should I just call you 'mine'?”

“You can call a lawyer, 'cuz I'm about to sue for harassment,” she snapped, and stalked out of the shop.

This had happened so many times that Stanley didn't even look fazed. He scoffed, turned to the window, and eyed the next busload of tourists shuffling around the lawn.

“Welp,” he said, “one babe down, thirteen to go!”

Ford rolled his eyes. “Stan, some of those girls are like, Mom's age.” He wiped off a jar of eyeballs (which he was convinced watched him when he wasn't looking). “I know you're getting all girl-crazy, but could you turn it down a notch?”

“Not until I get a girlfriend,” Stan said with determination. “All those girls in Jersey were stupid-heads. Now that we're here, I'm going to find the perfect girl to date me.”

“That doesn't mean flirting with every girl you see. Remember when you hit on that lady with a pet turtle? She looked ten years older than you!”

“So I have a thing for older women.” Stan threw one arm around his brother. “Come on, Sixer, I need a wingman! We can both land a hot girl this summer!”

Ford glanced reflexively at his hands, but Stan didn't notice.

“Besides,” he went on, “I got a good feeling about this summer! I wouldn't be surprised if the girl of my dreams walked through that door right now!”

The second Stan pointed to the front door, Grauntie Mabel walked through it and belched up a handful of glitter.

“Ugh, eating actual glitter, not good, ow,” she grumbled.

“Ew, why?!” Stan yelped. Ford laughed.

“Alright, people,” Mabel announced, “I need someone to go hammer these signs in the spooky part of the forest!”

“Not it!” Stan yelled.

“Not it!” Ford echoed.

“Uh, also not it!” Ria called, nailing up a new shelf on the wall.

“No worries, Ria. Flannel Man, I need you to put up these signs for me, please!”

He glanced up. “That's a left-handed hammer. I only use my right hand! The manly hand!” He leaped to his feet. “I'm gonna go make a right-handed hammer right now! HYAAAH!” He ran out the door.

“Oh, not again,” Mabel muttered. “Alright, let's make it eenie, meenie, miney...you.” She pointed to Ford.

He flinched. “What? But Grauntie Mabel, whenever I'm in those woods I feel like I'm being watched.”

“I've been in those woods a hundred times, kiddo. How many times do I have to tell you there's nothing scary in there?”

“Except maybe bears,” Stan added.

“Why don't you do it?” Ford demanded, looking at Stan. “You're the one who wanted to hunt for buried treasure!”

“Nope, she picked you, sucker! See ya!” He dashed out the door after Boyish Dan.

“But it's creepy!” Ford insisted. “I'm telling you, there's something weird about this town. Look – yesterday my mosquito bites spelled out 'BEWARE'!” He pulled up his sleeve to show Mabel.

She peered at it. “First, that says 'BEWARB.' Second, there's no such thing as the supernatural. And third, the longer you wait, the darker it'll get, so hop to it!” She dumped the signs into his arms and moved past him to handle the tourists.

“This is so not fair,” Ford grumbled, hammering up another sign. This deep into the forest, the thick trees cast an eerie shadow over everything. Even the sky looked tombstone gray. “Why doesn't anyone believe me when it comes to the supernatural? I know something's not right here...”

Clang.

Ford blinked. The tree he'd just hammered sounded...metallic. He leaned closer and tapped it again with the hammer.

Clang, clang.

“...huh.”

He ran his fingers over the bark, leaving trails through the dust and dirt. His fingers caught on something and he pulled.

A portion of the tree trunk swung open.

There was a rectangular compartment lined with metal recessed into the tree. Centered on the bottom was some kind of control box, with a dusty screen, a few weird buttons, and a couple of levers. With growing fascination, Ford leaned forward, tapping the buttons and toggling one of the levers.

WHIIRRRR!

Ford spun around. A section of the grass had retracted, revealing another compartment set into the ground.

Grauntie Mabel's pig, which had apparently followed him out here with surprising stealth, gave a startled oink and waddled quickly away.

Ford hurried over.

The compartment was full of cobwebs, millipedes, beetles – and one very old, very filthy book, covered in layers of dirt and dust. Ford picked it up carefully and blew the dust away.

The book was bound in deep blue leather, the corners reinforced with a dull bronze-colored metal. In the middle of the cover was a gold pine tree with the number “3” written on it, shimmering against the blue background. The book looked very old, and very strange, like an ancient tome from some kind of secret society.

“Whoa,” he breathed. He laid it carefully on the grass. His head was spinning with questions. Who would hide a book way out here, in such an elaborate hiding spot? Who built the mechanisms? What amazing secrets were written on these very pages?

He opened the book.

The inside cover had an owner's label, but the name had been ripped off. There was a monocle attached to the binding. He picked it up for a moment, weighing it in his hand, before he turned the page and began reading aloud.

“'It's hard to believe it's been six years since I began studying the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls, Oregon.'”

Secrets? Ford was right – there was something going on in Gravity Falls!

He flipped eagerly through the pages. They were filled with illustrations of strange beasts – eyebats, gnomes, gremloblins, with notes taken in precise cursive. There were also several lines of strange symbols and numbers, obviously some kind of code.

“What is all this?” Ford whispered.

He stopped flipping the pages and started to read again. A bold subtitle had caught his eye: Trust no one.

“'Unfortunately, my suspicions have been confirmed. I'm being watched. I must hide this journal before he finds it. Remember, in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust!'” He picked up the book and stared at the words. “No one you can trust...”

“HELLO!”

“GAH!” Ford jumped and nearly dropped the book.

Stan sat on the log behind him, grinning from ear to ear. “I swear, Sixer, I shoulda pretended to be a bear. Betcha woulda peed your pants! Hey –” He caught sight of the book in Ford's hands. “Whatcha readin' there, some nerd thing?”

“Uh – uhhh, it's nothing!” Ford said, hiding the book under one arm.

“'Uhhh, it's nothing!'” Stanley mimicked, laughing again. “What, are you actually not gonna show me?”

Ford felt a slight tugging on his book. Grauntie Mabel's stealth pig had come back and was chewing the cover.

He tugged it away. “Let's go somewhere private.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “We're in the middle of the forest, bro,” he pointed out. But he followed Ford back to the Shack.

Since the pig wasn't allowed in the house, Ford went to the Shack's living room to show Stan the journal. There was a tour bus out front, so he figured their great-aunt would be busy for a while. He didn't really want to share the journal with her. She didn't believe in the supernatural, anyway.

“Ok, so what's the big thing with some dumb book?” Stan asked impatiently, jumping onto their Grauntie's orange chair.

He took the book out of his jacket, smiling down at it. “It's amazing – Grauntie Mabel said there's no such thing as the supernatural, but according to this book, Gravity Falls has a secret dark side.”

“Whoa, shut up!”

“And get this! After a certain point, the pages just – stop, like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared!” He held up the blank pages to show his brother.

“Do you think he was eaten by one of those monsters?” Stan asked.

“Hey – maybe!” Ford said. He hadn't thought of that. “But he hid it first, so I don't think he got eaten. Plus, the author says he was being watched, so I don't think it was a random monster.” He started pacing as he talked. “If he knew he was being watched, did he take steps to protect himself? Is the author still around somewhere? Could he be someone in town? There are some coded parts of the journal in here. I bet if I could crack them, I could figure out what happened, maybe who the author really is!”

Stanley grinned at him. “If anybody can do it, it's you! You're the smartest guy I know!”

Ding dong.

Ford looked up. “Who's that?”

His brother grinned. “Welp, time to spill the beans!” He reached over and flicked an empty can of beans sitting on Mabel's stack of romance novels. The can tipped over. “Haha, beans. This guy's got a date with destiny!”

Ford raised his eyebrows. “Let me get this straight. In the thirty minutes I've been gone, you've already managed to find a girlfriend?”

“Well, not exactly.” Stan ran off to answer the door. Ford hopped up on the chair and sat down to read.

Grauntie Mabel walked in. “Whatcha readin' there, kiddo?” she asked.

He jumped. “Oh – uh, uh –” Ford hid the book behind him and grabbed a novel from the stack. “Just reading, um...Wolf Man, Big Chest?”

“That's a good series,” she commented, taking a swig of Pit Cola.

“Alright, family!” Stan announced, marching proudly into the room. “Say hello to my new buddy, Norman!”

A slouching, black-hoodied teenager shuffled into the room. He wore dark pants and a black hoodie, all covered with bits of dirt and grass, with an actual tree root sticking out of his hood. When he turned to greet them, his face was paper-white, and his eyes were round and bloodshot.

He looked at them. “'Sup.”

“Hey,” Ford said, just as Mabel said, “Hi there!”

“We met at the cemetery,” Stan said. “He hangs out there all the time. Isn't that cool?”

“Um, are you bleeding, Norman?” Ford asked, pointing to something red and drippy on Norman's chin.

Norman's eyes darted nervously. “It's jam,” he rasped.

“Anyway, we're going treasure-hunting!” Stan declared. “You wanna come, Ford?”

The journal pressed into Ford's back. “Um...maybe later,” he said.

“Aw, come on! We were gonna go hunt for treasure! You know you're gonna love it.”

“No thanks,” Ford said, a little more firmly. “I've got...summer reading to do.”

“Oh...” Stan looked dubiously t the book's hiding place. “Fine. Come on, Norman!” he yelled, racing for the door. “Last one out's a rotten egg!”

Norman raised a hand in farewell, walked into a wall, and stumbled after Stan.

Ford got up from the chair, hiding the journal in his jacket, and went to the window. He frowned, watching them leave. “Did Norman seem...normal, to you?” he asked Grauntie Mabel. But he wasn't really expecting an answer. She'd already started rereading that lame romance novel.

He touched the journal, thinking hard. If there was something supernatural about Norman, maybe it could give him some clues.

Half of the upstairs attic was taken up by his and Stan's bedroom. The other half was empty, utterly devoid of furniture with the exception of a single bay window, with stained red glass decorated with a triangular design. Ford sat on the cushioned seat, scooting close to the window to make the most of the light.

He flipped through the book until he found something that caught his eye. It was a hunched figure with its limbs held out stiffly, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Norman.

He started to read. “'Known for their pale skin and bad attitude, these monsters are commonly mistaken for teenagers. Beware of Gravity Falls' notorious –’” he gasped. “ZOMBIE?!”

Grauntie Mabel looked up from the bathroom mirror.

“What was that? 'Crombie'?” she wondered. “No, maybe it was chompy. Or maybe hungry. Hey, I should finish off that Chicken-Glitter Casserole!”

Ford jumped up to a kneeling position and pressed against the glass. There! Stanley was sitting on the picnic table, concentrating on a piece of paper spread out before him. Norman was stalking towards him, arms outstretched, grunting with every step. Stanley was so focused that he was utterly oblivious to the danger.

“Oh no – Stanley!” Ford shouted, but his brother couldn't hear him.

Norman came closer. He loomed over Stanley.

He grabbed him –

Ford yelled –

And Norman pulled back, a miner's helmet on Stan's head. Stanley turned around, grinning and feeling his new hat.

“Is this a real miner's helmet?!” he asked, reaching up to flick the light. It blinked on and off, visible even in the bright sunshine. “Wow! Where did you get this? It's so cool!”

Ford slumped with relief, watching for a few seconds longer as the two of them started pointing to stuff on the paper. From here, it looked like it was some kind of map.

He drew back, shutting the book and sticking it under his arm. For all he knew, the teen was just another emo teenager. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. He held the journal more tightly.

“Is Norman really a zombie,” he muttered, “or am I just going nuts?”

“It's a dilemma, to be sure.”

Ford jumped and spun around. Ria was on a step stool, changing the bulb in the attic's ceiling lamp. Ford hadn't even heard her come in.

He hesitated, but he needed to think this through with someone. “Ria, you've seen Norman, right?” he asked. “He's gotta be a zombie!”

“Hmm. How many brains have you seen him eat?” she asked politely.

He sighed. “Zero.”

She stepped off the stool, wiping the dust from her hands. “Don't fret, chiquito. I do believe you. There are many strange things that happen in this town. The florist, for example. I am almost certain that he is a satyr.”

Ford knew who she was talking about. The florist's shoes made weird clopping noises, he always wore a hat even indoors, and he had flower petals everywhere – even between his teeth.

“But you must have evidence,” Ria continued. “Otherwise, people will simply believe that you are one piece shy of a chess set.”

“I guess you're right,” Ford conceded.

She nodded sagely. “Wisdom is both a blessing and a curse.”

Grauntie Mabel's voice called up to them. “Ria! The portable toilets are clogged again!”

Ria straightened her hat. “I must get the special vacuum.” She held the step stool like a shield and marched out of the room.

Ford looked after her, thinking hard. Ria was right. He'd need some actual proof that Norman was a zombie...hadn't he seen a camera left in the Lost 'N' Found box in the Gift Shop? Grauntie Mabel always waited until the end of the day, then emptied the box, stuck price tags on everything, and resold it as “haunted merchandise”. He could borrow the camera and return it later for her to sell. If he followed Norman around, he'd be able to film actual proof that Norman really was a zombie.

A slow smile spread over his face. He'd be a hero – he could protect his brother, prove the existence of the supernatural to his great-aunt, maybe even get an article published in the newspaper. This was definitely a good plan.

It was time to collect some evidence!

“Here, let's take this one, too,” Stanley said. He and Norman had gone straight to the closest hardware store and begun stocking up on supplies, using Norman's zipped-up jacket as their shopping cart. He shoved a second flashlight down Norman's collar and stood back to admire the effect. With all the stuff they'd packed in, the jacket bulged in unlikely places, but they could just say he'd broken both arms or something. “Perfect,” he decided. “Man, how do you fit all that stuff in there?”

Norman eyed the next item doubtfully. Stanley was holding a shovel almost as tall as himself – three and a half feet long with a wide, pointy steel blade. “Uh, I don't know about the shovel...”

“Well I'm not paying for a perfectly stealable shovel. Are you?” Stanley twirled it like a baton. “Won't we need two of these?”

Norman grunted. “You dig it up, you get 80% of the gold.”

“Well hot dog! You got yourself a deal!” Stanley practically danced with glee – then remembered not to do that. Ford was the only one who didn't laugh when he danced.

Thinking of Ford made his chest twinge. If his brother hadn't found that stupid book with its stupid mysteries, maybe they'd be doing this together...

He gave himself a good mental shake. So what? He and Norman would dig up the gold using the treasure map they'd found, and they'd get filthy rich and Ford would be incredibly jealous, and then Stan could use the gold to buy all the fancy monster-hunting equipment Ford wanted and they'd go exploring the forest together for the rest of their natural lives. In a limo. In two limos!

“C'mon, c'mon, let's get out of here!” Stanley whispered excitedly. “We got some gold to find!”

They picked the lock on the Emergency Exit door and snuck out. Norman insisted they pick up provisions at “the place with ingredients for pie”, which Stan guessed meant the grocery store. But first they decided to dump their equipment at the cemetery. There was a tombstone with a winged angel pointing at something, and her wings were big enough to hide their stuff behind.

Stan threw the shovel in the dirt like a harpoon. A pile of blankets was already stacked there, plus a wagon loaded with a pickaxe and a coil of rope from their previous tool heist.

“Dude, you're like, an expert at this,” Stan said. “By the end of the day, we're gonna be filthy ri–”

“WAGH!”

Stan turned right as Norman did a face-plant in an open grave, spraying him with dirt and gravel. After a second, Norman crawled his way to the surface. Stan burst out laughing.

“Oh, man, that was hilarious!” he gasped, bent double from laughing so hard.

Norman laughed along with him. Stan knelt by the edge of the grave. “Dude, you are covered in dirt. You look like a zombie! Wait – it's like a zombie swimming pool! Swim through the dirt!” He started chanting. “Swim through the dirt! Swim through the dirt!”

Norman grunted and tried to pull himself out. Tools fell out of his jacket and pants. Stan looked down at the grave in dismay.

“Aw, man, you dumped it all.”

Norman handed him the shovel. “Here. Practice.”

“Uh, you're the one who dumped it.”

“I'm...like...not crawling back into an open grave.”

Stan scoffed. “Chicken.” He jumped in feet-first. The dirt was all soft on top, soft enough to move with his hands, so digging was no problem. He brought up their flashlights, thermoses, and a waterproof watch before he noticed Norman watching him. There was a hungry kind of look in his eyes.

“Um...dude. You're freaking me out.”

“Sorry. You're really good at digging.”

“Whatever. Get the stuff and pull me out, would you?”

Norman put a hand down, but when Stan went to grab it, he somehow lost his grip and went tumbling back in the grave. He banged the shovel on his knee.

“Ow!”

“You okay?”

“Ugh...” Stan rubbed the back of his head. “I swear I'm gonna have, like, three concussions and amnesia by the time this summer's over. Get a better grip this time, okay?”

Norman helped him out of the grave and they piled all their stuff in the wagon. By that point, they both looked so filthy that Stan knew they'd never make it in and out of the grocery store without getting caught. You had to look nice and respectable for people's eyes to glaze over you, and somehow grave dirt just wasn't the fashion style of the season.

Fashion style? Ew! Grauntie Mae's rubbing off on me. Definitely time for some manly gold-digging.

Aaand that sounded wrong.

“Let's just get back to the Shack,” Stan said angrily, scowling at the wagon. “You pull, I'll push. We can just grab some stuff from the kitchen and fill up our thermoses there.”

Ford paced the living room angrily, the camera in his hands, disgusted with the wasted day. He'd followed Stan around for the past five hours, and while he'd gotten plenty of evidence of Stan's sticky fingers, there was absolutely nothing to suggest that Norman was anything other than a very awkward teenager.

He heard Stanley slam the back door. It was easy to tell who it was, since he grumbled under his breath the whole way up the stairs. Ford headed up as well and entered their bedroom just as Stanley was putting on a fresh shirt.

“Stanley!” Ford said. “We've gotta talk about Norman.”

“Isn't he the coolest?” Stan asked. He held up his right forearm and pointed. “Check out this neat scar I got!”

“Gah!” Ford stared, alarmed. The scar was at least a foot long and bright pink, the skin around it mottled and purple.

“Haha! Gullible.” Stanley put his arm down and rubbed it. “It's just some paint, see? We painted the wagon we're using. I called it 'The Stanleymobile!'”

Right. Ford had seen Stan and Norman outside earlier, messing around with paint and a rickety-looking wagon. They'd tried to use a leaf blower to make it dry faster and ended up having a sword fight with the blower and a shovel.

Stanley smiled. “That was fun, Sixer, you shoulda joined us!”

Ford shook his head. “No, Stanley, listen – I'm trying to tell you that Norman is not what he seems!” He pulled out the journal, its gold-leaf pine tree glinting ominously.

Stan thought for a second. “Do you think he could be a werewolf? That would be so awesome!”

“Guess again, Stanley,” Ford said, and flipped quickly through the pages. He held it up dramatically. “Sha-BAM!”

Stan yelled in surprise, then frowned. “Wait, what?”

Ford checked the page. “Oh, oh wait, hang on –” He had flipped it to that page about gnomes, all chubby-cheeked and starry-eyed. He turned the pages back until he found the one on zombies. “Okay, sha-BAM!”

Stan was not impressed. “A zombie? That is not funny, Ford.”

“I'm not joking!” Ford started to pace the room. Why didn't anyone believe him? Not Grauntie Mabel, and now not Stan?! He knew what he was talking about! “Look, it all adds up – the bleeding, the limp... He never blinks! Have you noticed that?”

“Maybe he's blinking when you're blinking,” Stanley said.

“Stanley, remember what the book said?” Ford whispered urgently. “'Trust no one!'”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Well what about me, huh? Why can't you trust me?”

Ford grabbed his brother by the shoulders. “Stanley, he's gonna eat your brain!”

Stanley frowned and pushed his hands away. “Stanford, listen to me. You can join us or not, but Norman and I are going treasure-hunting at five o' clock.” He started marching toward Stanford, who was forced to back up a step at a time. “And we're gonna find an awesome pile of gold,” Stan continued, “and we're gonna spend it however we want, and I'm not gonna let you ruin it with your crazy conspiracies!”

Stan slammed the bedroom door in Ford's face.

Ford sighed and slid to the floor, sitting against the door. “Oh man...what am I gonna do?”

Eventually he pulled himself to his feet and dragged himself downstairs, where he flopped on the yellow armchair. He pulled out the video camera and flipped open the viewing screen, glumly rewinding and fast-forwarding various moments of the day. There wasn't even a shred of proof...

The doorbell rang.

“Coming!” Stan yelled.

Ford glanced over the arm of the chair. He had a pretty good view of the front door. Norman was standing in the entrance, as pale and creepy as ever.

Stanley ran to the door, wearing clean(ish) clothes and his miner's helmet. “How do I look?” Stan asked, adjusting the hat. “Do I look like a real treasure-hunter?”

“Cool,” Norman grunted.

“The map's on the picnic table. Let's grab it and get hunting!” He grabbed Norman's sleeve and yanked him outside. Ford kept watching as they grabbed a wagon loaded with food and tools and started lugging it into the forest.

Ford turned away from the door with a groan. “Ugh, maybe Ria was right. I don't have any real evidence...” He watched a brief clip of Stan teaching Norman how to play cards while they ate stolen candy bars. He thumbed the fast-forward button absently. It reached the part where he'd been spying on the two of them in the cemetery. Ford watched as Norman fell into the grave, then climbed out. Totally creepy, but nothing supernatural about it at all. He sank a little lower in the chair. “I guess I can be kind of paranoid sometimes and...”

On the screen, Norman try to pull Stan out of the grave. Norman pulled and his hand popped off just as Stan slipped, falling back into –

“Wait. WHAT!?”

He rewound it again, watching closely. Just as Norman started to pull Stan out of the grave, Norman's hand fell off his wrist! Norman quickly popped it back on when Stan wasn't looking!

Ford yelled in triumph and actually knocked over the chair.

“I was right!” he shouted, scrambling to climb over the seat. “I was right, I knew it, I was –” He stopped short. His brother was out there right now, in a creepy forest with a zombie who wanted to eat his brains!

“Omigosh, omigosh!” He darted for the door. He had to get help! “Grauntie Mabel, Grauntie Mabel!”

He sprinted around the Shack. His great-aunt was giving a tour to some sweaty-looking tourists. She led them to a rather large rock set atop a thick pole, sitting in front of the Shack.

“And here we have Rock-That-Looks-Like-A-Face Rock,” she said proudly. “'The Rock that Looks like a Face.'”

One of the tourists raised his hand. “Does it look like a rock?” he asked, his accent twanging.

“What?” Mabel frowned at him. “No, it looks like a face.”

“Is it a face?” asked another tourist.

“It's a rock that looks like a face.”

Ford rushed up and tried to get around them, but there was no room. He jumped up and down, waving his arms from the back of the crowd. “Over here! Grauntie Mabel!”

She was too engrossed in her argument with the tourists. “For the fifth time, it's not an actual face!”

Ford ground his teeth in frustration.

Stan wiped the sweat from his forehead, leaving a long streak of black dirt on his face. The hole he'd dug was five feet wide and just as deep, with one side of it slanted so he could go up and down like a ramp. The sun was slowly going down, so half of the hole got some good shade, but the other half was right in the sun's path. Every time he stood on that side he got blinded. Sweat rolled down his face and back, making his shirt stick to him like the wrapper on a pastrami sandwich.

“This is taking forever!” Stan complained. He glared up at Norman. “Why aren't you helping more?”

Norman knelt at the side of the hole and handed him a water bottle. “I am helping. Besides, you're almost there.”

“Where, the center of the earth?” Stan threw down the water bottle and stabbed at the ground with the shovel. “Come on! I've been digging solo this whole time, and there's nothing even here –”

TWANG.

The shovel bounced back in Stan's hand. They both stared at the ground.

Stan's eyes went wide. “Is that...?”

“Grauntie Mabel, Grauntie Mabel!” Ford shouted, but he still couldn't get her attention and he knew time had to be running out!

A sudden movement caught his eye. Boyish Dan was parking the golf cart next to the “Pet the Pig” sign.

“Boyish Dan!” Ford ran over to him. “Dan, I need to borrow the golf cart so I can save my brother from a zombie!”

Dan squinted at him. Then he shrugged and dropped the keys into Ford's hand. “Don't hit pedestrians!” he barked, stalking toward the Gift Shop. Ford smiled with relief. Dan was pretty cool.

He hopped in the cart. It was almost exactly like that bumper car he'd ridden at the fair when he was six. He turned the key, shifted the gear stick, and hit the gas, heading straight for the forest.

“Chiquito, it's me, Ria.”

Ford hit the brakes. What was Ria doing just standing in the middle of the lawn?

“This is in case you see a zombie,” Ria said, handing him a large shovel.

“Thanks.” He stowed it in the back seat of the cart.

“And this is in case you see a pinata.” She handed him a baseball bat.

“Uh...thanks?” He put it by the shovel and hit the gas.

“Better safe than sorry!” she called cheerfully, as he zoomed towards the forest.

“Oh, man, I've never seen this much gold in my life!” Stan laughed. He'd dumped the treasure chest out on the bottom of the hole and was digging through the pile of gold coins, running them through his fingers. They glittered in the orange light of the setting sun. He grabbed two fistfuls and threw them up in the air, yelling with delight until they fell back down and pummeled him on the head. “Ow!”

“This is amazing!” Norman said. “I can't believe you dug this up all by yourself!”

“I know, right!” Stan paused, squinting up at Norman. “Yeah, I did do all the work myself. You know, I'm thinking we may need to renegotiate our shares, here.”

“Oh, you can hang on to all of it.”

Stanley stared at him. “Huh?”

Norman seemed not to hear. “Man, look at this! And this was supposed to be one of the harder ones to dig up, too. You did it in an hour flat!”

“...Yeah...” Stan looked from the gold to Norman and back again. Norman really wasn't making any kind of grab for it. He'd just said Stan could have it all, just like that. Something was definitely fishy here. Was it possible Norman had tricked him?

He picked up an old-looking coin. It was worn smooth on one side, but the other side had some kind of sketchy engraving he couldn't quite make out. He knew better than to bite it – if it really was gold, he would dent the metal and decrease the coin's value. He weighed it in his palm. He'd gotten pretty good at that while working at the family pawn shop, and this felt like real gold.

So why would Norman just...?

He looked up. A bunch of foot-high men in bright red caps were standing exactly where Norman had been.

Stan shrieked and fell back on his butt.

“Relax, kid, wouldja?” one of the short guys said impatiently. It was Norman! Or at least Norman's face and voice.

“You – you –” Stan sputtered.

“Right, right, I'll explain.” Norman brushed the hair out of his eyes and smacked one hand with the other. “So! We're gnomes! Got that one out of the way.” He nodded at the other gnomes, all of whom were standing on stilts or carrying fake plastic arms. “I'm Jeff,” he said, “And that's Carson, Steve, Jason, and...I'm sorry, I always forget your name.”

The last gnome, who looked like a wild-eyed Santa Claus, blinked slowly. “Schmebulock,” he said, with a voice like a bunch of falling gravel.

Jeff snapped his fingers. “Right! Schmebulock! Yes! Anyway...” He turned back to Stan.

Stanley blinked rapidly, trying to put it all together. If that was Norman's face...then...Norman had really been a bunch of gnomes the whole time?!

“I still keep the gold,” Stan said flatly. “You said I could, and I did all the digging, and you didn't even pay for the stuff we stole, so –”

“Relax, kid, you can have all that and more!”

Stan blinked again, stunned.  “There's more?”

“Sure!” Jeff pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it around. “Us gnomes got into a fight with a giant hellhound a while ago, and long story short, it buried all our treasure. We've got whole boxes of the stuff buried all over the forest!”

Stan's eyes gleamed. “More gold, huh? You don't say.”

“Yep! But we're not exactly cut out to be diggers, and any tools we steal are definitely not gnome-sized. That's why us gnomes have been looking for a new servant!”

“Say what now?”

“Well, more like slave-labor, really. But it's a great deal!” Jeff nodded enthusiastically. “We offer full medical and dental coverage, plus all the pie we can steal. All you have to do is dig up all of our gold and guard it for the rest of eternity!”

“Are you crazy?” Stan demanded. “I get enough of that child labor stuff from Grauntie Mabel. You're lucky I don't sue your red-capped butts right now! I'm takin' my gold and I'm outta here.”

“We understand.” Jeff and his gnome friends glanced at each other. “Well, Stan...we tried it the easy way.”

Stan backed up. “Huh?”

All five gnomes bared teeth as sharp as a shark's. Stan yelled and threw up his arms as they jumped into the hole, their beady eyes glittering with greed.

“Don't worry, Stanley!” Ford shouted, his foot pressed to the gas. “I'll save you from that zombie!” Luckily, he'd seen the map they'd been using from the window of the attic. He had a pretty good memory. He knew he was to be close to wherever Stan and that zombie were trying to go.

Suddenly Stan's voice echoed through the trees to Ford's left. “Help!” he cried.

“Hold on!” Ford veered off the trail and drove into the trees, heading deeper and deeper into the shadows. The farther he went, the more he noticed an odd bluish light that seemed to come from the forest around him, tinting the foliage mint-green and aqua. The pine-needle carpet was swiftly replaced with odd blue mosses dotted with pink flowers and the occasional clump of mushrooms. There was an off-road path through the trees wide enough for the golf cart, and Ford pressed the accelerator, listening for his brother.

There was a clearing of sorts up ahead. A bunch of tiny red-capped creatures were swarming around a pile of gold. To the left, the rest of the creatures were clustered around Stanley, who was trying to fight them off, throwing punches left and right.

“The more you struggle, the more awkward this is gonna be for everybody!” warned one of the tiny creatures. “Okay, just – get his arm, there, Steve!”

A creature jumped up and tried bite Stan's arm. “Gah! HEY! Let go of me!” he shouted angrily. Another one attacked his midriff and he caught it mid-air with a strong left hook. The thing flew four feet, bounced twice, and landed on its feet next to a tree. It immediately vomited a viscous multicolored bile.

Ford hopped out of the cart and stared. “What the heck is going on here?!”

One of the creatures – men, they looked like little men – scuttled passed and hissed at him. Ford flinched back, dropping the shovel.

“Sixer!” Stanley called. “Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes! And they're total jerks!”

Three gnomes stacked themselves up and grabbed Stanley by the hair, swinging from it like monkeys. He yelped and went down.

“Gnomes?” Ford repeated, pulling out the journal. He flipped to the right page – ironically, the same page he'd accidentally shown his brother earlier. The same chubby-cheeked, starry-eyed drawing stared up at him. It was adorable in a creepy, infest-your-grandma's-lawn kind of way. “'Gnomes,'” he read aloud, “'Little men of the Gravity Falls forest. Weaknesses: Unknown.'”

Well that was unhelpful, Ford thought. When he glanced up, the gnomes had tied Stanley to the ground with a bunch of string, like a miniature Gulliver.

“Oh, come on!” Stanley shouted.

“Hey, hey!” Ford marched up to the lead gnome, shovel in hand. “Let go of my brother!”

“Oh, hehe, hey there!” The gnome smiled a little too stiffly. “You know, this is all just a big misunderstanding! Y'see, your brother's not in danger. He's just enslaved to all one thousand of us to become our gold miner for all eternity! Isn't that right, Stan-O?”

“You guys are butt faces!” Stan shouted. A gnome slapped his hands over Stan's mouth.

“Let go of him right now, or else!” Ford threatened.

Jeff glared at him, his face growing darker by the minute. “You think you can stop us, boy? You have no idea what we're capable of. The gnomes are a powerful race! Do not trifle with the –”

Ford scooped him up with the shovel and dumped him to the side.

He yelped indignantly. Ford ignored him and headed straight for Stan, lifting the shovel high and bringing the edge of it down on the strings. Stan jumped up and lashed out at the gnomes, knocking them down and giving them enough time to get away. He stopped to pick something up and Ford grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the golf cart.

“Forget it, Stan, just go!” Ford said.

“He's getting away with our servant!” Jeff yelled. “No, no, no!”

They scrambled into the golf cart. “Seat belt!” Ford barked.

“Mama's boy!” Stan barked back, but he put on the belt and Ford threw it in reverse.

Jeff watched them go, a dark fire burning in his eyes. “You messed with the wrong creatures, boy,” he growled. “Gnomes of the forest, ASSEMBLE!”

Instantly, gnome faces popped out from every nook and crevice in the clearing, crawling from the shadows, literally popping out of the woodwork in the trees. They scuttled towards him, linking arms, climbing onto each other's shoulders, as their collective shadow grew and spread over the ground...

Stan gripped the seat so hard his fingertips went numb. “Hurry, hurry, before they come after us!”

Ford grinned at him. “I wouldn't worry about it. Did you see those little legs? Those suckers are tiny!”

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Ford braked as the whole ground shuddered under their wheels. A shadow fell over the cart and they turned.

Stan gaped. “Dang.”

A thirty-foot conglomeration of gnomes loomed over them, with fingers as thick as telephone poles, arms and legs as thick as train cars, and a huge, sharp-toothed face that came to a hat-shaped point.

Jeff sat at the very top of the point. “Alright, guys, like we practiced!” he called, and yanked a gnome's hat. The giant roared and lifted a huge fist.

“Go go go!” Stan yelled. Ford floored it just in time, and the fist hit the ground where they'd been just a split-second earlier. The fist smashed apart into a pile of angry gnomes. Stanley grabbed the seat for balance and watched, still looking back, as the gnomes quickly regrouped and thundered after them.

“Stanley what's happening?” Ford shouted.

“COME BACK WITH OUR SERVANT!” Jeff howled, his black eyes madder than ever. The gnome giant ran with incredible speed, closing the gap between them in a matter of seconds.

Stan blanched. “Hit the gas hit the gas!”

The giant whipped its arm at them and several razor-toothed gnomes snapped off its fingers and went flying straight for the cart.

Stan grabbed a bat from the back seat. “We got incoming!”

He unbuckled and stood in one smooth motion, hitting the first gnome in the gut with a perfect swing. It went flying into the trees.

“Home run, suckah!”

“Stanley!”

He turned. His brother was fighting off the rest – they were tearing through the cloth roof and climbing down the sides of the cart, shredding whatever they could reach with their teeth. Stanley grinned and wielded the bat like a spear, punching the stupid gnomes flat in the face with the blunt end. One of them tried to bite the bat and Stan smashed the end of it against the hood of the cart, squishing the gnome, which let go and bounced off into the road.

Another gnome swung down from the roof right next to Ford. He yelled, but before Stan could get to it Ford grabbed it by the back of its stupid little jacket and banged it several times against the steering wheel.

“Schmebulock,” groaned the gnome.

Ford smashed it one more time and let it go, and it rebounded off the cart and went tumbling in their dust.

Stan grinned at him. “Way to go, Fo–”

“SCREEEEE!”

A gnome came flying out of nowhere and landed right on Ford's face, squeezing Ford's ears in its vice-like grip.

“I'll save you Ford!” Stan dropped the bat and pummeled the gnome with both fists until he dislodged it with a killer left hook.

“Th-thanks, Stanley,” Ford stammered, swaying slightly and blinking several times.

“Don't mention it.” Stanley had been standing on the seat, but now he crouched down and peered out the back of the cart.

The gnome giant had been gaining all the time, but now it paused and grabbed the nearest tree. It was a redwood at least four stories tall, looked like it had been growing for over a century – and the giant just grabbed it and pulled it up like it was picking daisies! It took aim and threw the tree like a javelin.

“WATCH OUT!” Stan shouted.

Ford glanced back over his shoulder and the two of them yelled with fear as the tree sailed towards them – and then over them. It landed with an incredible BANG in the middle of the path ahead, completely blocking the road.

Stanley threw up his arms as Ford swerved, desperately trying to avoid the tree, screaming as it loomed closer and closer.

The tree had landed with one end propped up on a boulder, with just the smallest gap between the tree and the ground. Ford yanked the wheel hard to the right and the cart skidded under the tree, scraping off bits of bark with the roof of the cart. Ford lost control and the cart started tipping, zooming down the road on just its two right wheels. Stan grabbed the seat – he couldn't reach for the seatbelt or he'd fall out – and Ford pumped the brakes and the gas, trying to regain control. The cart fishtailed, skidding over the road, and finally tipped over, sliding the last ten feet to the Shack.

It took a full minute for Stanley to realize they weren't moving. His head was pounding and the ground spun underneath him. He pulled himself, groaning, from the wreckage of the cart. He glanced over to see his brother standing up shakily, grabbing the bent metal poles of the cart for balance.

The giant gnome stomped towards them, its huge shadow swallowing them up. At its top, Jeff's eyes glittered maliciously. The boys backed up until they were pressed against the wall of the Shack.

“Uh, stay back, gnomes!” Ford yelled shakily. He grabbed the shovel from the back of the cart and threw it.

The giant hit it in mid-air and punched it to the ground.

“AGH!” Ford and Stan jumped.

“Wh-where's Grauntie Mabel?” Ford squeaked.

Inside the Gift Shop, Mabel Pines was demonstrating the newest merchandise to a trio of slack-jawed visitors.

“Behold!” she declared, holding up a toy that looked like a plastic lollipop. It had a swirl pattern decorating the candy part and a string dangling from one side. “The world's most distracting object!”

She pulled the string and the swirl began to turn.

“Ooooh,” the tourists said in unison.

Mabel grinned. “Just try to look away, you can't!” They all stared at the toy, including Mabel. “...Wow, I can't even remember what I was talking about.”

Stan and Ford were trapped between the trash cans and some bushes at the side of the Shack. There was nowhere for them to run, and nothing they could use as a weapon. Stan stood partly in front of his brother, one arm thrown out to protect him. How the heck was he supposed to get them out of this?

“It's the end of the line, kids!” Jeff yelled, looming over them. “Stanley, get over here before we do something crazy!”

“There's gotta be a way outta this,” Ford whispered. He slid the journal partway out of his jacket.

Stan set his jaw. “I gotta do it.”

“What?” Ford grabbed Stan's shoulder. “Stanley, don't do this, are you crazy?”

“Trust me.”

“What?”

“Sixer, just this once.” He turned to look his brother in the eye. “Trust me.”

Ford looked from the monster to Stan and back again. He slowly released Stan's shoulder and backed up.

Stan strode forward. “Alright, Jeff,” he said loudly. “I'll sign your contract.”

Jeff frowned at him. “Contract?”

“Well sure. This is like, a legal agreement, right? I'm going to work for you for eternity and all. Any good boss knows we need a contract to make it legally binding, so I can't run away.”

Jeff rubbed his chin, considering. “I like the way you think, kid!” he said finally. He clapped his hands and started climbing down the giant. “Help me down there, Jason, thanks Andy, whoops – hey Jorge – whoa, watch those fingers, Mike.” He reached the bottom and headed for Stanley, practically strutting, while the gnome-giant stood silently behind him. Stan was thinking furiously, but it looked like he was right – the other gnomes were all staring at Jeff like they didn't know what to do without him. That's what he was counting on.

“Alright kid, where's the contract?”

“You're in luck! We can use the map we left behind earlier,” Stan said. He reached behind the trash cans. “I've got the map and a pen right here...”

He whipped out the leaf blower and switched it on in reverse. Immediately the suction began drawing Jeff towards the blower.

“H-hey, what's going on?!” Jeff tried to back up but slipped on the grass. He grabbed for the ground with his fingers, but the wind was too strong. It yanked him up and he was sucked straight down the pipe. The other gnomes gasped.

“That's for lying to me!” Stan shouted.

He cranked the suction to full. Jeff's body got sucked in until only his cheeks bulged over the rim.

“Ow, my face!”

“That's for taking my gold!”

Stan aimed the blower at the giant gnome monster. It grunted in surprise.

“And this is for messing with my brother!” He glanced at Ford and grinned. “Care to do the honors?”

Ford smiled back. “On three!”

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

Ford flipped the switch to 'blow'. Jeff shot out of the blower like a high-powered rocket. He crashed straight through the giant's chest and out its back.

“I'll get you back for thiiiiis!” he howled, flying at high speed over the treetops and out of sight.

The impact shattered the giant gnome to bits. They broke apart, gnomes falling around them like very ugly confetti. In seconds the lawn was covered with battered gnomes. Their red hats were bent and grass stuck to their sweaty hands and faces. They blinked and looked around blearily, groaning and rubbing their arms and shoulders.

“Ugh...”

“My arms are tired,” one mumbled.

“Who's giving orders?” whined another gnome. “I need orders!”

Stanley shoved the blower at Ford and grabbed his bat. “Anybody else want a piece of this?!” he demanded, swinging the bat like a golf club. He smacked quite a few gnomes on the butt. Ford joined in on the fun, cranking the blower to maximum.

“Yeah, come on!” Ford shouted, laughing.

The gnomes squealed and fled, most of them scampering on all fours into the forest. The twins ran after them, whooping and hollering like maniacs. Even Waddles got in on the action, showing up just in time to drag the last gnome off by its hat.

Ford headed back to the house to replace the leaf blower.

Stan bit his lip. “Hey, Ford.”

His brother turned. Stan shouldered his bat and shoved his free hand into his pocket. “Um. Sorry for getting on your case earlier. I know you were just looking out for me.”

“Come on, don't be like that!” Ford said, smiling. “Did you see what a great team we made? That was awesome!”

Stan grinned a little. “Yeah...hey, wanna see something?” He brought his hand out of his pocket. Resting on his palm was an old, misshapen, yet unmistakably gold coin.

“Whoa, neat-o!” Ford said, bending for a closer look. “You think it's real gold?”

“You bet! I bet you could do some science-y thing to check the weight, but it definitely looks real. The gnomes said there was a ton of it buried all around the forest, but they couldn't dig it up. That's why they wanted me in the first place.”

“You know, I bet we could find it on our own,” Ford mused. “We could get a metal detector or something and go exploring in the woods. We could even make maps like real explorers so we'd know where we'd already checked.”

Stan looked up hopefully. “You mean it? We'll go hunting together?”

“Sure! I bet we'll find a ton of treasure.”

Stanley's smile widened. He felt like fireworks were going off in his chest. “Alright! High six?”

Ford grinned back. “High six.”

They smacked hands.

Grauntie Mabel was counting the day's profits when they walked in. She took one look at them and laughed.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” she asked. “Didja get hit by a bus or something?” She chuckled at her own wit.

Stan grunted for the both of them and the trudged towards the kitchen. Normally he shared her love of terrible jokes, but at the moment he was too beat-up and tired to care. For once he would probably go to bed almost willingly.

“Uh – hey!”

He and Ford turned back. Their great-aunt was rubbing the back of her neck like she was anxious. “W-wouldn't you know it, I accidentally overstocked some inventory!” she said awkwardly. “So, uh, why don't the two of you take one item from the shop. On the house, you know?”

Stan's eyes widened. “Like, for free?”

“What's the catch?” Ford asked, folding his arms.

She frowned at him. “The catch is do it before I change my mind. Now take something.” She smacked the register with her elbow and started organizing the bills.

Stan sped straight for the priciest items in the shop. A talking fish on a plaque? A stuffed frogadillo riding a unicycle? He could take whatever he wanted for free!

“Neat-o!” Ford said.

Stan looked over. His brother had found a keychain shaped like a flying saucer. Ford clicked a small button on the side and the whole thing lit up light blue, making the perfect paranormal-themed flashlight. He slipped a finger through the keychain's ring and spun it, making a circle of light shimmer in the air.

“This is so cool!” Ford turned to Stan. “What did you get, Stanley?”

Stan looked around. “Um...I think I'll get...”

Something caught his eye. A glint of metal from the Bargain Box, shoved to the back of a store. He leaned closer to check...and a smile spread over his face.

“I will have a...grappling hook!”

He aimed the weapon around the shop, pretending he was a fighter in the Ol' West. “Pew, pew, pew! Take that!”

Ford and Grauntie Mabel glanced at each other in surprise.

“Wouldn't you rather have, like, a T-shirt or something?” Grauntie Mabel asked.

“Are you kidding?” Stanley aimed at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The hooks shot up, latched onto the roof beam, and yanked him ten feet in the air, where he dangled one-handedly from the ceiling. “GRAPPLING HOOK!” he shouted.

She laughed. “Fair enough!”

Ford sat in his bed later that evening, the blankets pulled over his knees as he wrote in the journal. He'd already filled in the “Weakness” areas of the gnome page: Leaf blowers and baseball bats!

He flipped to the first blank page, halfway through the book.

This journal told me there was no one in Gravity Falls I could trust, he wrote. But when you battle a hundred gnomes side-by-side with someone, you realize they've probably always got your back.

“Hey, Stan, can you get the lights?” he asked.

Stan had been bouncing energetically on his bed, grappling hook in hand.

“I'm on it!” he said. He'd already impaled a stuffed bear with it earlier, and its cotton innards clung to the hooks. He aimed at the lamp and fired.

The hook shot straight through the lamp and smashed the window behind it. The lamp sparked and died.

“It worked!” Stan shouted, and they laughed.

Ford slipped the journal under his pillow and laid back, his arms crossed under his head. He heard a rustling and knew that Stan had taken up an identical pose.

“This summer's gonna be awesome, Stan,” Ford said.

“Duh!” He could hear his brother's smile in his voice. “We're gonna find tons of buried treasure.”

“And monsters.”

“And babes!”

Ford threw a pillow at him. He heard a fwump and muffled laughter.

Ford closed his eyes, still smiling, thinking back to the last thing he wrote in the journal.

Grauntie Mabel told me there's nothing weird going on in Gravity Falls, but who knows what other secrets are waiting to be unlocked?

Next

[dashesofink]

The Speaker | Chapter 3 |

 A Hobbit Fic

Summary: Accompanying a group of 15 across the lands of Middle Earth was never something you dreamed of doing, especially after waking up in a strange forest. Yet after being found by a group of dwarves, you find yourself following after a Dwarven King and his company to reclaim a mountain. You had expected the hardships and battles that you all faced on the journey; however, the last thing you expected was finding someone along the way who would steal your heart away for himself, all while giving you the key to his own.

Pairing: TBA

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: none so far

A/N: So i think I’ve come to the conclusion that either Fili or Thorin will be the pairing for this story!! I put a little thing between each of them in this chapter, so let me know what you think please!! Hope you guys enjoy!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The Speaker Taglist: @legolaslovely @c4ts4ndstuff @nerdbirdsworld

Main Taglist: @t00-many-th0ughts @fizzyxcustard​

Read also on: AO3 Wattpad

You wanted nothing more than to bundle up in a pile of blankets and fall asleep again. The rain that pelted your back and the top of your head soaked easily into your clothes, the cloak you had fastened around your shoulders doing little to protect you from the cold. Your arms were tightly wrapped around your riding buddy, Bofur, as you pressed your forehead to his back. His body was also soaking wet, as was pretty much everyone else in the company. A few grumbles of annoyance sounded out every once in a while, and if your throat wasn’t aching as bad as it was you probably would’ve done the same. It had been nearly a month since you appeared in Middle Earth, and it was easy to say that you had found a small place within the company of dwarves, along with the Hobbit and wizard. Surprisingly enough Thorin wasn’t as harsh to you as he had been the first couple of weeks, but he still seemed a bit hesitant and almost… meek around you. True to Fili’s words a couple of weeks ago, Kili had gotten over himself and finally talked to you again, much to your relief. However it wasn’t quite the next day that Fili had mentioned, it was more like the next week.

You wanted to chuckle at the awkward conversation that was held between the two of you— well, more like the awkward explanation that Kili had for his cold-shoulder towards you.

“I just— I don’t want uncle to see me as… as foolish.” Kili seemed to want to look everywhere except for you. His brown eyes, while filled with regret and guilt for ignoring you and acting cold, were looking around at the rocks and the trees as he avoided your gaze. The quill in your hand had stilled upon an empty page of the book that Bilbo had given you, and it wasn’t long after you sat down away from the group that Kili approached you for the first time in a week. The grip you had on the quill tightened as you watched him, the skin under his stubble glowing red, as did the tips of his ears while his fingers fumbled with his sleeves. He looked like a hurt puppy. “That’s not an excuse though, I know. And I apologize if I’ve upset you. I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to forgive me just yet, but I just wanted to see if there was any way that I could—“

The sound of your laugh froze Kili in his spot, and when he finally looked over to you since he started his rambling he saw a smile pull up your lips. Confusion ran hot through his body and his eyebrows knitted together as you continued to laugh. You should’ve been angry with him. He had been bracing himself for this conversation, the words running through his mind dozens of times before hand, and he had been telling himself that you would be crying and screaming— if you could scream that is— but you weren’t. “W-what? Aren’t you… aren’t you angry with me?”

Kili couldn’t seem to believe that you didn't seem upset or angry at him, which he wasn’t wrong to believe. You still felt hurt when he had avoided you. The pain in your heart was there, yes, but after many explanations from Fili you understood that Kili thought he was doing right by his uncle. He wanted to impress Thorin. So you left him alone to figure stuff out for himself. You had forgiven the young prince about the fourth day of him not talking to you, so all you had been waiting for, until this moment, was for him to come back and want to be your friend again. Your fingers grabbed a hold of one of his hands gently as you held your place in your book with a pressed leaf, and you felt the muscles in his palm tense when you pressed your fingers against his skin. Kili held in a breath as your cold fingers drew against his burning skin. Once you had finished writing Kili felt as if he was going to cry, and the smile that graced your lips was reassuring as you nodded.

I FORGAVE YOU. LONG AGO.

A small cheer fell past Kili’s smiling lips and in an instant he had pulled you to your feet and to his chest. His face was pressed deep into your shoulder and his hands held your waist as he shook your body happily, and another laugh rumbling in your chest at his excitement. You gave his back a soothing pat before he pulled away, and you were shocked to feel his hands gently grasp your cheeks. “I’ll never act that way again, Y/N, do you understand?” Kili’s nose was inches from yours as he brought your face down to his, your eyes blowing wide when you saw the sincerity swirling through his chocolate eyes. “If I do, I give you permission to give me a proper smack across the face.”

After that night things seemed to go back to normal between the two of you. Fili still kept a close eye on his younger brother whenever he was around you though. The golden prince still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Kili would do such a thing to you, ignoring you and acting as if you had some incurable and deadly disease. Sure, you were quite odd and most definitely the quietest person that they had ever met, but everyone in the company had some little ticks and quirks about them. Even after Kili had apologized and the two of you went back to normal, Fili couldn’t help but stick close by to you. He had taken it upon himself to watch over you and help you communicate with the others during Kili’s little tantrum, and ever since then he couldn’t deny how you had grown on him. Some way or another, you had caused a swirl of emotions to bury themselves deep within the eldest prince’s gut, and he would be lying to himself if he said that the feeling hadn’t grown at all. Even now Fili couldn’t seem to draw his eyes away from you, his lips pulling down into a deep frown when he saw how you shivered against the freezing rain and wind.

“Here, Mister Gandalf!” Dori’s voice somehow reached your ears through the pouring rain, though it still sounded muffled. You just barely peeked out from behind your cloaks hood, yet the dwarfs figure was blurred from the rain and the edge of your cloak. “Can’t you do something about this deluge?!” You definitely agreed with Dori’s question. Gandalf was a wizard, surely he could do something about the rain. If not stop it, maybe raise the temperature just a little bit. The rain had soaked you to the bone, as it had done with everyone else in the company, and you had a feeling that if you didn’t get somewhere warm and strip yourself of your drenched clothing, you would end up with a nasty cold. Which would only make the ache in your throat worse.

“It is raining, Master Dwarf!” You found yourself looking over to Gandalf as he replied to Dori, his words laced with slight annoyance. “And it will continue to do so until the rain is done! If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” You couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at the funny statement. Gandalf had never made mention of any other wizards before, so you never really took it upon yourself to question whether or not that there were any.

“Are there any?” Bilbo’s voice suddenly sounded out, startling you a bit. You had been so caught up in trying to warm yourself against Bofur’s back that you had completely forgotten about the Hobbit.

“What?” Gandalf questioned.

“Other wizards.”

You let out a low growl whenever Bofur gave your wrist a small pinch, just to make sure you were still awake, or possible still alive in weather as bad as it was. His fingers felt like ice against your already frozen skin, making you jump a bit at the feeling before you slammed your fist into his stomach lightly. The action didn’t do much damage though. Bofur merely let out a grunt while you settled back down again, your temple this time resting against his back as you watched Gandalf. “There are five of us.” The wizard spoke. “The greatest of our order is Saruman the White, then there are the two Blue Wizards…” You blinked rapidly when drops of rain fell down your lashes and into your eyes a bit, the figure of the wizard blurring. The pad of your thumbs dug into your eyes, and only after you could see again did you notice how Kili was laughing at you. You shot him a warning look as you growled lowly once more, your mood only worsening as the rain picked up. “Do you know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.” When Gandalf spoke again you turned your attention back to him, only briefly though, as Fili was waving a few ponies away to get your attention.

It wasn’t hard to tune out the conversation that Bilbo ensued with Gandalf as you turned to look at the waving prince, as the rain suddenly began to pick up and pelt your back and head harder. You winced when heavy drops of rain hit your cloaked head, more rain dripping into your eyes and falling off of the tip of your nose when you tried to pull your hood down further. Fili watched as you tried to shield your body from the rain, a prominent frown pulling down his lips at your discomfort. On any usual day he would’ve offered you his coat, but the fabric and leather were thoroughly soaked through to the lining, leaving him to weigh more than he did before the day began and keeping him cold against the wind. You were shivering quite violently, he noticed as he spurred his pony to trot next to Bofur’s pony. The older dwarf only glanced towards Fili when he matched pace with him, his floppy hat falling over his eyes a bit when he turned back to the front.

“Are you feeling alright, Y/N?”

Your eyes narrowed to slits and one of your arms tightened around Bofur’s waist when you raised your other arm, both you and the prince watching as your arm, hand, and fingers shook underneath the weight of the rain and from the coldness that spread through your body. You gave Fili a look that he read as ‘what the hell do you think?’ before you squeezed your hand into a fist, trying to get some feeling back into it. “Right, stupid question, of course you don’t feel alright. Who does in this bloody weather?” Fili looked away as the tiniest of blushes flooded his cheeks. You couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled in your chest at his small rambling. You had noticed how flustered Fili had been getting around you recently, and you couldn’t decide if it was because of how close the two of you had gotten the past few weeks or what. “I’d offer you my coat but.. well..”

You gave a small shrug when he swept his palm over the lining of his coat, only for it to drip with rain water when he showed it to you. It didn’t seem to help either that rain was still falling from the sky, however this time at a slightly slower rate. A thankful smile pulled up your lips at his offer. Even if by some chance that his coat was dry you wouldn’t take it. You could tell that even with how naturally high dwarves body temperatures were that he was struggling to stay warm in the rain. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his darkened blonde hair falling in soaking waves around his face and shoulders. The last of Gandalf’s explanation of wizards drifted through your ears as you surveyed the dwarf and it appeared that you had zoned out— your eyes sticking to his strong features and blue eyes— for the sound of Fili clearing his throat broke you away from your train of thought.

“Do you think the rain will stop anytime soon?” You looked up at his question, blinking some when raindrops threatened to hit your eyes. You quirked an eyebrow as you did so. Sure enough, it appeared that the rain was finally starting to slow, and as you peaked above the trees and into the sky your hood fell off. “Maybe we’ll get some sunshine after all.” You hummed in agreement when you looked away from the blue sky peaking through the grey clouds. Fili was smiling when you looked back to him, his fingers de-tangling his hair a bit while he locked his eyes with yours.

You held his gaze for a moment, and when he finally looked away you watched as his blue eyes danced over your features for a quick moment. You could see the way his lips twitched under his braided mustache and how his cheeks flushed with color. He turned away finally while his hands moved to wring out his coat and tunic as the rain slowed to a complete stop. The sun was peeking through the clouds and treetops now, providing little warmth to the company as they traveled. You watched Fili a while longer as a silence fell over the two of you. He truly was an odd dwarf, not that you knew many dwarves apart from the company, but it wasn’t a bad type of odd. In fact you quite liked him. Unlike with his brother, you felt calm and protected around Fili. It wasn’t that you felt unprotected around Kili— you knew that if the occasion arose that both of them would try to defend you— it was just a different kind of feeling. It was nice and warm and inviting. Your heart fluttered whenever Fili was next to you, and your body felt warm. It was an odd feeling you got when you were around him, just as he was odd, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

Hours had passed since the rain ceased and still Thorin lead you further down your intended path. The sun was burning hot against the company’s backs now, and soaked cloaks and drenched hair had been dried and braided back to keep out of the faces of the traveling dwarves. By now you felt as if you had a good idea on how to stay comfortable while riding a pony, however your techniques varied depending on which dwarf was your riding buddy. Only one stop had been made earlier on, to allow the dwarves and others to stretch and have a light snack. And now you were on your second. Thorin had declared a while back that this stop would be a bit longer than normal, though he didn’t state his reason for that, and most of the dwarves cheered at the statement.

Your cloak was hanging neatly over a branch as you rolled the sleeves to your tunic up. After weeks of traveling with only one pair of clothes, you were gifted with another set of clothing until you had a chance to clean your own. The tunic was slightly big on you, the hem reaching your upper thigh, and the trousers you had on hung loosely against your legs. You were as grateful as ever for the clothing. And it seemed that Ori was knitting you a sweater as well. You opposed of course, writing down that he didn’t need to waste his yarn and his time on fashioning something for you. But he insisted.

“You in there, Y/N?”

You shook your head and pushed Kili’s hand away from you when his knuckles knocked against your forehead. The sword in his hand glinted against the sunlight as he backed away. You looked down to the matching sword in your hand, your fingers tightening around the hilt as you weighed the weapon in your hand while inspecting the blade. The dwarvish sword certainly was quite heavy. Your arms struggled to lift the heavy metal each time you raised it to defend yourself from Kili’s weak attacks, and you had a feeling that if he had been using his full strength that you and the sword would’ve gone flying at a particularly high blow. But as time went on it became easier for you to lift the weapon. This was only one of many training sessions that the princes had put you through. At first they were hesitant to teach you to wield a sword, but you were a persistent person. You felt bad enough that they were always watching over you, ready with a raised bow and drawn swords to defend you from an attack. Though you appreciated it at first, you grew to hate it as time went on. You didn’t want to be defenseless anymore, to constantly rely on them to protect you. So you asked them to train you, to show you how to fight and wield a weapon. And they did.

“Remember to keep your elbows in, Y/N.” Fili called from the sidelines, his hair bouncing around his face while he nodded after he saw you correct your stance. "Feet apart— like that!" It had been hard for you at first to learn the fighting style that the dwarves used in battle. You found you had to tweak it here and there, as your body wasn’t quite the same as theirs was. And you were proud to say— as were Fili and Kili— that you had come along quite well with your training. Be that it may have been only a couple of weeks and that you still weren’t as steady as you would’ve liked, but you thought you could wield a sword fairly well.

Metal clashed against metal as Kili brought his sword down again, your knees buckling ever so slightly when the weight of it hit against your own sword. Sweat lined your forehead and dripped down your back as you deflected another blow of his. He didn't seem to be any better. He had shed his coat and was in his tunic, and you found it a bit surprising that he was working up a sweat as you sparred this time around. You watched the way Kili held himself as he went to attack again, his shoulders squared as he has taught you, but his body was oddly open for someone in ‘battle’. You quirked an eyebrow when you realized he small mistake, and suddenly feeling a bit adventurous, you took a step forward before locking blades with his. Sparks ignited suddenly when you slid your blade against his own, and you couldn’t help the triumph that burned in your chest when you saw Kili’s eyes widen when you hooked the tip of your blade against the hilt of his sword and pushed him back a bit. With a flick of your wrist his sword was knocked out of his hand and crashed to the ground. You locked eyes with him, your heart swelling with joy when you saw the disbelief swimming through his, and his hands raised in surrender when you stepped forward to set the tip of your blade against his neck gently.

You were unaware of watchful eyes as you and Kili sparred, so when a chorus of claps and cheers sounded throughout the camp at your small victory, your eyes blew wide. Kili clapped his hands along with the others as you dropped your sword to the ground with a huff, your arms now shaking from holding the heavy weapon for too long. “Well done, Y/N!” Kili’s hand landed heavily against your shoulder after he retrieved his fallen sword. “You’re getting stronger everyday, don’t you think so uncle?”

The temporary camp grew quiet as they all looked towards Thorin. His eyes were set upon you and Kili, and it seemed that the little sparring match between the two of you had interested him as well. You suddenly braced yourself for his words when he looked to you, his piercing eyes running over your sore and sweat-lined body. You knew that Thorin was an exceptional fighter, if not that best within the company, and surely he was bound to insult you on your poor form or lack of upper body strength. It was true that he wasn’t as cruel as he was when you first joined the company, but you could still sense a feeling of hesitation that Thorin had whenever he looked or spoke towards you. You couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze as he continued to silently watch you, your hands shakily picking up your fallen sword to place it back into its scabbard.

“Her form is quite odd,” Thorin’s voice finally sounded out and your breath lodged in your throat at the dulcet tone. “And she’s not quite holding the sword as she should, but—“ You froze hearing his last words. You couldn’t help it as you I looked over to him again, and to your surprise you found him staring straight at you. His eyes were shadowed by his eyebrows as he observed you, his arms crossed over his broad chest. You could feel yourself bristle under his stare and for the longest time you were sure that he wasn’t going to continue. But when you saw his lips twitch under his beard, you could’ve sworn your heart jolted. “— you’re improving, Y/N.” Thorin’s voice seemed lighter as he spoke directly to you, and the company of dwarves all seemed a bit surprised at their leaders sudden change in attitude, yet a few of them hummed in agreement to his next words. “You are doing well.”

The company went quiet when Thorin gave you a small nod. Your eyes blew wide at his compliment, and you wanted to run for the hills when you locked gazes with him. You couldn’t read the expression he had on his face, and his eyes were once again shadowed, but something was swimming in them, something you had never seen before. Something almost soft and warm. Moments of silence passed before he finally turned away from you to address the company, yet you kept your gaze on him. “We leave in ten minutes.” Thorin’s eyes fell upon you for a second more until Dwalin called him away, and it wasn’t until a hand was placed against your shoulder did you look away from the dwarven king.

“Told you he’d warm up to you eventually.” You looked to see Fili smiling warmly at you, his fingers digging into your shoulder slightly before he held out his canteen. You accepted the drink with a smile, the cold liquid soothing the ache in your throat and wetting your chapped lips. After handing him his water back you rested the weight of the sword in your hands again. “He’s right you know,” As you gripped the hilt with your fingers you looked to Fili in question. A dull ache settled in your arms as you tried to lift the weapon again, and you were soon to give up on lifting it, instead opting to sit against a rock as the prince continued. “You’re getting better, and stronger too.” To make his point Fili’s fingers gently kneaded your growing biceps and his lips spread into a smile when you blushed and pulled away from him.

“I agree!” Kili had come to your other side, his hair having been braided back and away from his neck to cool him off some. He took the spot next to you on the rock to rest for a moment. “In no time at all you’ll be as good a fighter as anyone here— well, except for Bilbo that is.”

It wasn’t long before the company grew tired again. Shortly after your sparring match with Kili and after the two of you had cleaned up, the company packed up their things and mounted their ponies. Fili happened to be your riding buddy this time around, as Bofur seemed to want some time to himself. You apologized as best as you could for disturbing him, yet he didn’t seem to be put out about it, seeing as wherever you were, the princes were soon to follow. Most of your time on the pony was spent with you and Fili chatting away— well him speaking and you replying on his palm. After the first couple of hours of discussing different weapons, how to improve your fighting, and for some reason why hair grew at different rates on different people, Kili came by and started another conversation with Fili.

For the time being, as the two brothers talked, you leaned against Fili’s back as you wrapped your arms around his middle. You felt him tense for a quick second when your front fell against him and your cheek landed on the hood of his coat, but he was quick to relax again. Kili took notice of the small smile that pulled up his brother’s lips as he eyes subconsciously glanced back to you, but he only brushed it off as Fili just checking up on you. Occasionally the brothers switched from English to Khuzdul, and you assumed it was because they were discussing something that you didn’t necessarily need to know of, so you paid no mind to them. Your eyes fluttered shut when a gentle breeze blew over your body, rustling your hair and pushing it behind your ears as you relaxed while listening to them speak. The language sounded rough to you at first, but the longer you heard it being spoken the more you found it quite easy to listen too. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t know a couple of words in their language by now. But that didn’t necessarily mean you could speak yet.

Despite the hours you spent trying to talk and formulate sounds, you still were yet to speak. The company had grown accustomed to the sound of your laughter and little grunts and squeaks that you used to communicate, but something was still blocking you from actually speaking. Gandalf had been cornered many times by Fili and Kili about it, the princes questioning him on whether or not he could help you speak again. But even the wise wizard was at a loss as to what was causing your voice to be lost. Many times had you sat down in front of the others while they sounded out words— some even in Khuzdul, much to your entertainment— yet each time you opened your mouth to speak, nothing except for a small gasp of air or a little squeak fell past your lips. Defeat was sure to settle in your heart after each failed attempt at speaking. But they were quick to reassure you that you’d be speaking again, and that all they had to do was “figure out what in Mahal’s name is blocking your voice!’.

Your memory situation wasn’t any better either. While yes, you were starting to see flashes of what you assumed was your home before your time with the dwarves, you still couldn’t seem to remember any names or faces. Outlines of glowing bodies is all you saw, and whenever your vision would pan to their faces, something like a static screen would shroud their faces and cloud your vision. At first you thought these dreams were of angels. But soon you could hear them speak. They were calling your name and you would respond, but you sounded like a child— no more than a toddler it seemed to you. So you assumed they were your parents. But that was all you could remember; glowing bodies and old homes, nothing more and nothing less.

“We camp here for the night!”

You jolted up when Thorin’s voice called out. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of the sleep that clouded your mind and fogged your eyes. You let out a sigh when Fili led your shared pony into a small clearing, yet your breath got caught in your throat when you saw the remnants of what looked to be an old house. Fili held on to your arm and waist gently as he helped you down from the pony, and once he was sure that you were firmly on the ground he gave you a smile. “Fili, Kili!” Thorin had another stern look on his face as he looked towards his nephews, and you failed to notice the quirk of his eyebrow when he saw how you lingered near Fili. “Look after the ponies.” He commanded, turning away from them and instead calling for another pair of dwarves. “Oin, Gloin— get a fire going.”

Fili turned back to you with a sheepish smile on his face. “Looks like I’m on pony duty tonight.” He told you. He seemed to be hesitant in leaving you. You gave him a reassuring smile before grasping his hand to give it a small squeeze, your hair bouncing around your neck when you nodded for him to go. Kili had already begun collecting some of the ponies, while a few dwarves decided to help the prince lead their animals to whatever clearing he could find. “If you need anything— and it could be the smallest thing,” He gave you a pointed look. “Come get me or Kili, okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his statement, but to ease the seemingly continuous sense of worry that resided in him you nodded your head as you smiled. With that Fili turned to collect the rest of the ponies, and you once again found yourself looking towards the burnt looking house. Curiosity got the better of you and you soon found yourself wandering in between the pillaged home, your fingers dancing over the cracked wood. A feeling of dread and what felt like a touch of evil was quick to wash over you when you touched the wood, and you frowned when the feeling only grew the longer you stood in the house. Soon enough you found yourself standing behind Thorin as he conversed with Gandalf, the latter meeting you eyes for a quick second before he looked back to the Dwarven leader with a stern glare.

“I think it would be wise to move on.” Gandalf stated, eliciting a small scoff from Thorin while you rose an eyebrow. “We could make for the Hidden Valley.”

“I have told you already, I will not go near that place.”

You couldn’t help the confusion that ran through your body at Thorin’s words and the bitterness that laced them. Surely Gandalf knew of a better, safer place than in a clearing with a burnt house— one that made you feel worried no less— so what made Thorin so hesitant to go near this Valley? “Why not?” Gandalf seemed to grow more frustrated as the conversation went on, and for a second you felt bad for intruding on their conversation. You took a tiny step back as you grasped another pillar of old wood, hiding behind it to give them a bit more privacy. “The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice.” Elves? At this point you wouldn’t doubt that Elves existed, especially after spending nearly a month with dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard. But what was the look that Gandalf shot you when speaking of advice? Could the Elves have some ideas on why you couldn’t talk?

Hope sprouted in your chest at the thought, and the small smile that formed on your face grew as you looked towards Thorin as he went to reply. “I do not need their advice.” Thorin’s voice was cold and biting and though you couldn’t see the front of him, you were certain that his eyes were narrowed in a heavy glare. His words made the smile on your face disappear. You weren’t entirely sure he knew that you were standing behind him, but even if he did his words burned your hope of finding out why you couldn’t speak and then of talking again at the roots. If Thorin didn’t want to go see the Elves, the one race that might be able to fix you, then surely you would not go.

“We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us—“

“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor and what help comes from the Elves?” You couldn’t help the small gasp that came from you at Thorin’s words. “Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves look on and do nothing.” A sudden bout of sympathy and sorrow buzzed through your body at his comment and you couldn’t help but feel for the dwarf. It was true that you had no idea what it was that the dwarves— namely Thorin— went through, and even though you were told the stories you never did quite understand it all. But the utter anger and woe that was sewn in with Thorin’s words troubled you. “You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed grandfather and betrayed my father?”

“You are neither of them.” Your eyes traveled to Gandalf when he spoke, his voice lowering when the touchy subject was spoken of, yet he still held a snappy tone in his words. “I did not give you the map and key for you to hold on to the past.”

“I did not know that they were yours to keep.” That seemed to be the last straw for Gandalf. The wizard let out a huff before spinning on his heels and retreating. You noticed how he shot you one last look before he stomped away from the house and towards the edge of the forest, and it wasn’t until you took another step forward did Thorin finally turn away. You froze when his eyes finally landed on your figure. His eyebrows quirked upon seeing you there, yet his lips turned down in a scowl when he realized that you had most likely heard his conversation with Gandalf. Not wanting to anger him more you raised your hands in defense while taking a small step back.

“I gather you heard everything.” Thorin’s voice was low and somewhat timid when he finally spoke. When you didn’t respond right away he shot you a questioning look, one to which you quickly nodded before hiding your arms behind your back under your cloak. He seemed to deflate at your response, his chest heaving with a deep sigh. Thorin remained silent for the time being when he stepped forward and towards what used to be a fireplace. You watched him as he seemed to fall into a deep thought. His eyebrows were knitted deeply together as he zoned out for a moment, and what light was left from the shining sun seemed to darken the lines that were on his face. He looked so tired and so angry. For the first time since joining the company you found yourself feeling sorry for him, and you didn’t even realize that you had moved again until you were beside him.

When your hand was set upon his shoulder he jumped a bit, his eyes widening for a moment when he looked towards your fingers curling around his coat and then to your face. Your lips were curled up in the smallest of smiles and your eyes were swimming with something Thorin couldn’t quite understand. You weren’t sure what compelled you to do so, but you found yourself reaching for his wrist, and when your fingers touched his skin you gently turned his palm to the sky. He flinched at the sudden touch at first but he didn’t pull away. Thorin had seen you do this with his nephews nearly hundreds of times before, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that you exactly did when cradling their hands. But now that you were doing the same to him, your palm holding the back of his hand gently while your finger traced letters against his palm, he felt himself freeze.

ELVES ARE BAD?

Thorin’s eyebrows raised to his hairline at your question. It definitely wasn’t the one he was expecting you to ask, and it brought a chuckle to come tumbling past his thin lips. He merely nodded his head in reply to your question before he looked back to your hands, your finger now gliding across his skin again. However, instead of paying attention to the letters you were drawing on his skin Thorin found himself paying more attention to the feeling of your hand against his. Your palm felt rather soft as it held on to his calloused one, and your finger left small tingles against his palm while your nails dragged across the skin. It brought shivers to his spine. After a while Thorin had noticed you stopped writing and when he looked up to you, he found you were looking at him, eyebrows raised and lips curled into a small grin. “My apologies,” He looked away for a second, his free hand clenching by his side. You easily repeated your past actions and traced your finger over his palm again, this time with him paying attention.

TELL ME ABOUT THEM?

“Maybe another time, Y/N.” Thorin failed to notice the frown that spread across your face when he dropped his hand from your grasp and he looked away. “For now, you should rest with the others.” You followed close behind Thorin as he walked to the edge of the burnt house, his eyes scanning the company of dwarves that were either sat around the fire or still unpacking their things. He hummed upon finding one dwarf in particular. “Come on, Bombur, we’re hungry.”

After that you shared another look with Thorin when he turned to you, this time his eyes softening when you smiled before he stalked off. You watched him for a while longer before you stepped down onto a rock in front of the house, your back facing the inside of the old and ransacked house as you looked out to the dwarves. Dread still lingered over you when you were in the house, but it seemed stepping out onto the open lifted that feeling a bit. As commanded Bombur worked quickly to put together some supper. You weren’t quite sure what it was that he was cooking, but at that point you didn’t care. Your stomach was rumbling and aching with hunger. The dwarf was kind enough to relieve you of your duties for the night, allowing you to rest for the time being as he chopped herbs and splashed what few spices he had into the broth. You were thankful for him doing that, but silently promised that you would at least wash whatever bowls and utensils that needed to be cleaned at the end of the night. It wasn’t long before the sun fully set and disappeared behind the hills of the horizon, and soon enough the moon replaced it, followed by millions of burning stars.

Shortly after Bombur had finished cooking and called for the company to come get their fill, you were sat snuggly between Ori and his older brother, Dori. The younger of the two had finished his supper in record time, explaining that if he did so he would have more time to work on your sweater. Dori, though smiling at the fact that Ori wanted to make something for you, scolded his brother for scarfing his food down so fast. You chuckled at the brothers, watching as Ori expertly worked his needles around the thick olive yarn as you scooped spoonfuls of your supper into your mouth.

“He’s been gone a long time.” You turned away from Ori when Bilbo spoke up for the first time in a while. His gaze was fixated on the edge of the forest, the same spot where Gandalf had disappeared into hours before. You frowned upon realizing that his words were true. It had been quite some time since the wizard wandered off to collect his thoughts and calm down again, and in thinking back to his argument your eyes wandered over to where Thorin was sat. The frown on your face sunk in deeper when you noticed his lack of food and that he was isolated from the company. Even Dwalin was being social and was mingling with his brother a bit.

“Who?” You stood up when Bofur questioned the hobbit. You had finished your own supper seconds beforehand, and as you handed him your bowl you saw how his smile widened. He must’ve thought that you were hungry for more, and while on a normal night you would’ve welcomed seconds, you shook your head. Instead your finger pointed towards an empty bowl that had yet to be filled with supper.

“Gandalf.”

Bofur seemed confused by your request at first, but when you motioned to where Thorin was sitting by himself, a fond smile formed on his lips under his beard before he replied to Bilbo. “He’s a wizard. He does as he chooses.” After filling the bowl with supper and handing you a small loaf of bread Bofur gave the back of your hand a small pat. He had seen the way Thorin’s attitude had been changing towards you little-by-little, and your little interaction earlier made his chest fill with pride; the dwarf felt proud that you were finally giving the leader of the company a chance. “Here, do us a favor. Take this to the lads." Bofur watched your retreating figure for a second before he filled and handed two bowls off to Bilbo, giving the hobbit a look before turning back to Bombur, giving his hand a small smack. “You’ve had enough! Save some for the rest of us!”

It seemed that everyone in the company knew of your intentions as you weaved your way through them. You could feel them smile at you or give you encouraging gestures as you neared Thorin, your cloak brushing against fallen logs and jagged rocks. Especially Balin. The white-bearded dwarf seeming to have glowing eyes as he watched you, his lips turned up in a smile as he talked with Dwalin. Your steps stilled when you were a few feet away from him, and it seemed he still had yet to notice you. His eyes were cast over the dark horizon and on to the hilly plains. He seemed deep in thought again, and it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he finally looked at you.

“Y/N. What’re you— oh…” Thorin’s eyes found your outstretched hands and the bowl of supper you were offering him. Upon looking to the food his stomach let out a monsterous growl. You weren’t sure if it was because of the exhaustion that was messing with your vision or the shadow of the fire, but you could’ve sworn you caught a blush settling under his beard and on top of his nose. “Thank you.” His fingers brushed against the top of your hands as you passed him the bowl of warm supper, and his lips turned up into a smile when he did so. Just as before your skin felt soft against his own. You gracefully returned the smile once he had his supper in his hands, and you gave a small nod before lacing your fingers together behind your back as you turned to leave. But he stopped you. “Y/N, wait. Would you sit with me. I would like to.. discuss something with you.”

You froze at his words. As you turned back to face him you wrapped your cloak tighter around your body, a sudden feeling of dread washing over you again. However whatever it is he wanted to discuss wasn’t something you needed to fear, it seemed, as the look on his face was soft and almost kind. His eyes seemed lighter in the moonlight and a sincere smile was on his face. Thorin had moved to the side a bit, allowing a small space for you to sit next to him. “Please, Y/N.” Your feet seemed to move on their own and soon you were standing in front of the spot, your knee just brushing the fabric that covered his own. You looked between the open space and him for a moment as a hesitancy filled your gut. This had been the first day that he had tried to engage in civil conversation with you, and even though you found his words oddly pleasant, you couldn’t help but shy away a bit, fearing that maybe he would revert to his old self and go back to hating you. But you compiled anyways, yet anxiety still settled in your stomach as you sat next to him.

“I just want to… apologize for my actions towards you. I have not been the most civil dwarf towards you.” You kept your eyes on your fingers as you listened to his words. It was shocking to hear them fall past his lips in such a hurry as they did, and you didn’t doubt that if you were to be looking at him he wouldn’t be looking back at you. “I understand if you are not willing to accept my apology right away, as I know that since your arrival I have been nothing but cruel towards you. Truly I am sorry for the way I’ve treated you. Had I realized earlier that.. that you—“ By now your gaze had landed on Thorin as he voiced out his apology, but for some reason he seemed at a loss for words now as he clenched his jaw. His apology sent your heart soaring into the sky and you felt relief flood your veins. You could see he was still trying to figure out what to say next, and when gratitude sparked in your stomach you reached out for him again, your fingers curling around his thick ones. Thorin glanced to the way your hand wrapped around his own, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I do not deserve the patience and kindness you have shown me, Y/N.”

It was true, he didn’t think he deserved how kind you had been to him and how patience you were. It was often that during your travels that his words were biting and intending to harm you, but each time you merely nodded and complied with his commands. Granted, you never really smiled as much as you had smiled towards him this day, but you never once defied him. Mostly it was out of fear that you didn’t go against him, but he always saw you pressing on. When you shifted your hold on his hand to press a finger against his palm Thorin looked down, his blue eyes watching as you drew soft letters into his skin.

YOU HAD REASONS.

Thorin frowned at this. Yes, he did have his reasons for acting cold towards you, but that didn’t mean they were necessarily good reasons. He kept quiet when your fingers moved again, this time his eyes lingering on your face rather than on how your fingers moved against his skin. You eyes were shining with sincerity as looked down, your lips pursed and your teeth gnawing on the skin of your cheek every so often. The way your skin seemed to glisten in the moonlight was something that Thorin had never noticed before. Neither had he paid any mind to the way your hair seemed to fall in soft waves over your ears. A sense of longing suddenly erupted in the pit of his stomach, his fingers suddenly itching to caress the strands of your hair and comb them with his fingers. Yet he shook the feeling away when your fingers tapped against his palm two times, gaining his attention again. You went back to writing for the third time, and this time Thorin made sure to not let his eyes wander.

ALL IS FORGIVEN.

“Are you certain?” Thorin’s voice was tight and he suddenly scooped your hand into his large ones. The look he sent your way caused your breath to hitch. “I know I cannot change what happened but I—“ You were quick to cut him off with a tight squeeze to his hand. Once again your lips were pulled into a smile, though this one larger than ever before, and you nodded frantically hoping that he understood. All at once he seemed to relax, relief causing him to heave out a deep sigh. His fingers tightened around yours once more and the smile on his face shone with gratitude. A peaceful silence fell upon the two of you shortly after that, yet your hands stayed locked together when you looked out into the twinkling stars that covered the sky. The smile on your face was soft and genuine, and for a moment you felt that after your warm supper, your new friendship with Thorin, and the sudden buzzing feeling of contentment in your heart that you would sleep like a baby tonight.

But the moment of peace and stillness didn’t last for much longer. You jumped when Fili came bursting through the tree’s, face red and chest heaving as he stumbled to a stop as his hands dropped against his knees while he gasped for air. Your eyes blew wide at the sight and worry spread through you as you went to go to him, your cloak blowing behind you as you dashed forward. Thorin dropped your hand as you did so, but not before his fingers brushed against your palm as he let you go. You stopped, however, just by the fire when Fili jumped up, eyes wide with fear as he looked around the camp. When his eyes landed on you he reached forward, fingers beckoning you to come to him. Yet as he spoke, your blood ran cold with fear as you stayed glued to your spot.

“Trolls!”