#This isn’t even my sense of humor I was so bewildered I had to share it

[maliciouslunamoth]

I ACCIDENTALLY ADDED JAX VS SKIBIDI TOILET EPIC EDGING BATTLE TO MY WILL WOOD PLAYLIST AND IT SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME

[harleybeaumont]

Unintentional

Chapter 10 - Back To Life

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Pairings- Liam x Maxwell, Drake x Riley

Synopsis- Since childhood, Liam has held a terrible secret that even he doesn't know about. As the years go by, he suspects more and more that there is something wrong with him. Can he put his life together and find happiness?

A/N - This story is a bit different than what I usually write.. Ok a LOT different. Some terrible things have happened during Liam's life.. But the story isn’t without humor or joy. I swear it’s not all bad! The characters are still canon in the sense of their whole overall personalities, but of course there are several changes to fit the story.

Series Warnings- oh so many: language, drinking, violence, sexual assault, abuse, murder, homophobia, bullying, mentions of suicide.. Also there will be lemons in some chapters. 

Chapter Warnings - NSFW (lemons)🍋🍋

Word count- 3,800

18+ only

Click here to catch up.

Chapter 10 - Back to Life

Liam and Max walked along the beach toward their hotel that night, hand in hand, beaming at one another. Everything in the world felt better. The air smelled fresher, the sand felt cooler beneath their feet, the moon shone brighter, and their hearts were fuller. There was nothing that could bring them down. 

Drake and Riley were watching a movie on the bed when they returned, and Riley jumped up. “How was it?! What did you do?! Was it absolutely beautiful there?!”

Max and Liam shared a look and Riley squealed when she saw their linked hands. “Ahhh! So what does this mean?!”

“God, Riley.. Give them a minute to actually speak!” Drake chuckled.

“Sorry! I’m just so excited!” She mimicked zipping her lips shut and sat on the bed.

Max smiled brightly. “We're dating!”

Riley’s lips didn’t stay zipped for long. She jumped off of the bed screaming, taking both of their hands and jumping up and down. “This is the best day ever!!!” Her jaw dropped as she looked at Maxwell’s neck. “Max, you have hickeys! Oh my god, did you two.. do it?!”

“Riley!” Liam exclaimed, blushing furiously.

“Sorry!” She threw a hand over her mouth, giggling.

Liam hesitantly looked over at Drake, hoping this wasn’t weird for him. Drake chuckled. “About time.”

“Really?” Liam returned his smile, sitting on the bed next to Maxwell.

“I’ve watched the two of you low-key pine for each other for years! Yes, about time!”

“Let’s get drunk to celebrate!” Riley hopped onto the bed next to Max, hugging him tightly. 

Liam smiled, then remembered that someone would have to be awake to keep an eye on him. “I don't know if that’s such a good idea. What if I.. you know?”

Max cleared his throat, looking at Liam carefully. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

Everyone looked at Maxwell, eagerly awaiting to hear what he had to say.

“Soooo, Drake mentioned this back at Ramsford as a joke, but.. it’s not a bad idea.”

“What?!” Liam gave him a bewildered look.

Max smiled. “Anyone know where we can get some handcuffs this late at night?”

After a quick trip to a novelty store, Maxwell tested out the handcuffs on Liam. They were pretty flimsy, but surely would work. 

“Let me know if they’re too tight.” Max smirked down at Liam as he attached one end of the cuffs to the bedpost, and the other to Liam’s wrists. “I have to admit, when I pictured handcuffing you to the bed, it was under different circumstances.”

Liam gave him a cheeky grin. “You’ve imagined handcuffing me before?”

“Only like a million times.” Max shrugged, eliciting a deep laugh from Liam. “You never thought about tying me up, Liam?” Maxwell leaned down, speaking into his ear. “Having me completely at your mercy.. Doing whatever you want to me?” He nipped at Liam's earlobe and Liam tried to catch Maxwell's lips for a kiss, but he pulled away playfully.

“Max, this isn't fair..” Liam pulled at the handcuffs, causing them to clank loudly against the metal bedposts.

“That’s why it’s fun.” Max smirked, hovering an inch above Liam’s face. “I can tease you all I want, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Max put his hands on the bed on either side of Liam and straddled his lap. He began leaving soft kisses along Liam’s jaw, slowly moving down to his neck, before reaching his chest. Liam groaned loudly, bucking his hips up to touch any part of Maxwell. 

“Oh my god, you love being tied up!” Max smirked sinfully. “You’re already getting hard.” Max lowered himself to grind against Liam’s arousal and they both moaned at the sensation.

“I don’t think these handcuffs are a good idea after all.. I can’t sleep with a hard-on all night, thinking about what you could do to me.”

“Oh, Your Highness.. you think I would leave you wanting for anything?” Max nipped at his lip. “I will always take care of you. If I’m in the bed, you won't have an unfulfilled desire.”

“Fuck.” Liam’s breath quickened at his words. He had never heard Maxwell talk like that before tonight and it caused a delicious ache inside of him. He groaned and roughly brought his lips to Maxwell’s, thankful that he didn't pull away this time.

Liam could barely think straight with Maxwell's mouth against his while they ground against each other's bodies. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to be the night he and Max went all the way, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted.

Riley burst into the room cheerfully, “How are those cuffs working?! OH SHIT sorry!” Riley turned away, fleeing the bedroom, leaving Liam and Maxwell flushed.

 “Well.. that was awkward.” Liam chuckled as Max climbed off of him, unlocking his cuffs.

“Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of alone time once we get back home.” Max booped his nose with a grin.

“Right, home..” Liam trailed off in thought. Maxwell lived in Ramsford, which was a good ways away from the palace. Liam wouldn’t get to see him very often, and that made his heart ache. They were finally together and he wanted to spend as much time with him as he could. “Move in with me.”

“What?!” Max looked at Liam like he was crazy. 

“Please?” Liam sat rubbing his wrists which were a bit sore from straining against the handcuffs. “I don’t want you to be so far away. I’ll miss you too much.” Liam felt quite pathetic begging Maxwell to live with him, but there was no sense in trying to play coy. And it wasn't like they were strangers.. They had a lot of time to make up for.

Max broke out into a huge smile. “You want me to live with you?! For real?”

“Of course I do!”

“What will your parents and Leo think? Or Madeleine?” Maxwell shuddered. “I’d be living with your ex!”

Liam laughed loudly. “You know that relationship was a sham. She only used me to get close to Leo because she wants to be queen when my parents pass away. And honestly the palace is huge. I don't ever even see her.. And Leo won’t give a shit as long as I’m happy.” Liam smiled, taking Maxwell’s hand. “And my mother is going to be elated. She loves you.”

Max’s smile faltered. “What about your father?”

Liam looked away, considering. His father was very conservative and Liam had never come out as bisexual to his parents. He was sure his mother would be accepting, but who knows about his father. “We’ll tell him later. We don't need to worry about that right now.”

“So.. we would be hiding our relationship?”

“Just for a little while! Until you get moved in and settled. Then I’ll tell everyone.”

Max gave Liam that crooked smile he loved so much. “Ok.”

“Really?!” Liam was beaming.

“Yes! I want to be closer to you, Liam. I wanna be able to see you every day.” Maxwell paused, smirking. “Plus, the ballroom in the palace is huge! Think of the dance parties we could have in there!”

Liam threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly. “We will have as many dance parties as you want, Max. I’m so happy right now.”

“Me too! I love you.”

Liam felt like crying. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was going to be happy. “I love you too.”

After a couple more days in Capri, the four friends were ready to return to Cordonia. Liam used the handcuffs every night and got the best sleep he had in years. He was going to have to get used to the feeling of his arms being in the same position all night, but it was a small price to pay to ensure everyone was safe. Max had been sleeping on a cot in Liam’s hotel room. They knew they wouldn't be able to stop themselves if they were in a bed together, and they both decided they wanted to at least wait until they got home to fool around again. They didn't want any more Riley interruptions.

The night before they left, Liam paid off the tour guide again so that Drake and Riley could take a private tour of the Blue Grotto. It was the least he could do after what they had done for him. 

—-------------------------------------------------

Liam and Max entered the palace and found Eleanor waiting in the foyer with open arms. “My boys!” She hugged both of them tightly. “Did you have fun?”

“It was the best, mother.”

She looked at Liam curiously. “You look different, baby.”

“Do I?”

She smiled, brushing his hair back. “You look.. happy.. and relaxed. I haven't seen you look like this in years. It’s nice.”

“I haven't felt like this in years.” Liam glanced around to make sure his father wasn’t nearby before speaking. “I’m dating someone.”

“You are!?” Eleanor clasped her hands together smiling. “Who is it?!”

Liam took a steadying breath, and grabbed Maxwell's hand. “Can we go somewhere and talk.. privately?”

She took their linked hands in hers, as a brilliant smile lit up her face. “Of course!”

Eleanor reacted exactly as Liam had expected. She was ecstatic, embarrassing Liam by nearly starting wedding plans for the two of them. 

“My god, mother. We’ve only been dating a few days!”

“Please!” She scoffed. “I always knew you two loved each other.  A mother knows these things.”

“So.. you knew I was bi? And you didn’t care?”

“Liam, honey. Of course I knew.”

“Really?!” Liam was shocked. “Since when?”

Eleanor laughed. “Since you were, oh, fourteen and I saw you ogling your very.. well endowed karate instructor!” 

Liam blushed and Max cracked up. “Oh god..” Liam ran a hand down his face and chuckled.

Eleanor took his face in her hands. “And to answer your other question.. no I didn’t care. I only ever want you to be happy.” She turned to Maxwell with a smile. “And that goes for you too Max. You’re both my babies, you know.”

“I know, Eleanor.” Max smiled at her, nearly in tears. It was the same way his mother reacted when he came out to her years ago. “I love you.”

“And I love you too, sweet boy.” She hugged him tightly. “You’re mum would be so happy, Max. Annabelle loved you so much.”

Max choked out a small sob, squeezing her tighter. “Thank you.”

Liam couldn't have been happier. His mother knew about him and Max and she was ok with it.. More than ok, she was ecstatic. She even suggested that Maxwell move in, before Liam told her he had already agreed to it.

“What do you think dad will say?” Liam asked reluctantly.

Eleanor sighed. “Let’s just.. warm him up to the idea. He’s always been very old fashioned.”

Liam nodded, looking over to Max hesitantly. He hoped he wasn’t worried about Constantine. Liam was a grown man and didn’t need his father’s approval. Although he was still the King, and could technically send them away if he wanted. But there's no way his mother would allow that.

During the next week, Maxwell moved into the bedroom across from Liam’s. Bertrand didn’t seem too broken up about it. Maxwell had an inkling that Bertrand was involved in a secret relationship of his own, so Bertrand was probably relieved he wouldn't have to be so careful anymore. Not like Maxwell would have ever made him feel bad about it. 

Liam and Max went to Leo’s room to tell him they were dating and Leo was confused, saying he thought they were already together. He said the same thing that Drake said, “About time.” Madeleine shrugged indifferently, “that’s nice.”

It seemed like everyone was happy for them. Max went to Liam’s room every night before he went to sleep to cuff him to the bed. They found handcuffs that were more durable and had padding on the inside, so Liam could be more comfortable while he slept. Liam insisted on metal, worried that he could break through ones made of leather or cloth. He dreaded anyone coming in and seeing him like that, but he felt as if he could finally relax and sleep.. And it was the best feeling in the world. 

After dinner one evening, Liam and Max snuck into the kitchen to get some of the blueberry pie Eleanor made. “You know what this pie needs?” Max grinned as he held out a can of whip cream from the refrigerator. Instead of putting it on the pie, he put a dollop on his finger before turning Liam's head to the side and wiping it on his neck. He slowly ran his tongue over it, sucking the cool dessert off of his skin, his warm breath causing Liam to shiver. 

“I can think of something else I’d like to lick this off of.” Max sucked on Liam's neck hard, and Liam pulled his body flush against his.

“God, Max.. you’re so fucking hot when you talk like that.”

Max unbuttoned Liam's shirt and put another dollop of whip cream on his chest, before lowering his mouth and sucking it off of him. Max continued licking and kissing his chest well after the whipped cream was gone and soon Liam was dizzy with desire. They hadn’t been intimate together since that time in the Blue Grotto, and the tension was palpable. 

“I have an idea.” Liam started but nearly forgot what he was going to say when Max brushed his hand over the front of his pants. “Why don’t we go up to my room for dessert.”

Max pulled Liam's mouth to his roughly, pausing only to speak between kisses. “I think.. that’s the best idea.. you’ve had.. in a.. long time.” Max opened the fridge to put the whipped cream back, but Liam stilled his hand.

“No. Bring that with you.”

“Fuck.” Max whispered in surprise before taking Liam’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Liam tucked the can of whip cream in his jacket and they tried to casually make their way upstairs and into Liam’s room. They passed by Leo at the top of the stairs and he laughed, smiling knowingly at the two of them. 

Once Liam closed the door, it was like a switch had been flipped. The two of them came together in an instant, kissing, sucking, nipping at each other's lips and neck. Max pushed Liam’s jacket down off of his shoulders and began working feverishly on his shirt buttons. Liam was already working on unfastening his own pants, the belt jingling as his hands worked as quickly as possible. Liam wasn’t sure what exactly was going to happen, but whatever it was he fucking wanted it. Once Max had all of the buttons undone, he grabbed the bottom of Liams fitted undershirt and pulled it over his head. Max breathed out hard as he splayed his hands across Liam’s muscular chest. “God, I never get tired of this sight.”

Liam gave Max a smirk. “Get undressed. I need to see you too.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Max said teasingly before bringing his lips roughly to Liam’s again causing him to moan.

Liam and Max both worked on his shirt buttons and soon both men stood before each other, bare chests heaving. Liam’s pants were on the floor, the only thing covering him was his black boxer briefs. Max looked into Liam’s eyes which were dark and filled with need, and dropped to his knees. Liam gasped as he realized what Maxwell was about to do, and it caused his whole body to shudder. Max grabbed the elastic and slowly, slowly freed Liam’s throbbing cock, releasing a quick breath of satisfaction once Liam was bare before him. Liam closed his eyes, feeling Maxwell’s warm breath ghosting over his skin. The next thing he felt was Maxwell's tongue flick the tip of his shaft. Liam didn’t think he could even bear to watch Max go down on him.. He probably wouldn’t last more than a minute. The next sensation was all encompassing as Maxwell took him completely into his warm mouth, alternating licking and sucking and swirling his tongue. God he was amazing.

Liam let out a shameful whine when Max released him. He looked down and saw his boyfriends beautiful lust-filled blue eyes looking up at him and it was almost too much. Liam leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes again.

“No.” Maxwell's voice was more deep and gravely than Liam had ever heard and his cock throbbed at the sound. “Watch me. Watch me suck your cock Liam.”

Liam had no words. The only thing he could do was stare at Max, completely consumed by the salacious words uttered from his mouth. 

“You like me on my knees for you, Your Highness?” Max leaned forward pressing a light kiss to his tip.

“Fuck..yes.” Liam panted. He wanted Max so badly he could have begged.

“Then tell me what you want me to do.”

“What?” Liam looked at him, slightly confused until he realized.. Max wanted Liam to command him, and that was the hottest thing he had ever seen in his life.

Liam smirked and grabbed a fistful of Maxwell’s hair, slowly bringing him toward his throbbing dick. “Suck your Prince’s cock, Lord Beaumont.”

The pathetic whimper uttered from Maxwell’s mouth was enough to turn Liam feral. Max opened his mouth to claim Liam again, but not before Liam gave him another order. “Be a good boy and make your Prince cum.”

Maxwell moaned so loudly that Liam thought maybe he had just cum in his pants, but then he surged forward taking Liam completely into his mouth, working him into a frenzy. Liam didn’t take his eyes off of Maxwell the whole time. He wanted to try something else that he thought Max would like. With Maxwell’s lips still wrapped around him, Liam held Max completely still and began thrusting into his mouth. The sound that came from Maxwell’s mouth told him he definitely liked it. Liam was so far gone at this point and couldn't stop the absolute filth that threatened to fall from his lips as he watched himself thrust into his boyfriends waiting and eager mouth. “You like that don’t you?” Liam panted as sweat began to drip from his brow. “You like when I fuck your pretty mouth don’t you Max?”

Max couldn't speak, only able to moan and grab Liam’s hips, forcing him into his mouth faster and harder.

“Fuck.. I’m so close, Max.” Maxwell hollowed out his cheeks and sucked hard, and Liam completely let go, his knees nearly buckling as the most intense orgasm of his life coursed through him. 

Max, once again, eagerly took everything Liam gave him. Once Liam's body stopped trembling, Maxwell released him with a grin. “You have no idea what that did to me, Liam.”

Liam let out a soft chuckle, “Probably not half as much as it did to me.”

“Wanna bet?” Max stood up, shimmying out of his pants before pressing Liam’s hand against his throbbing erection. Liam felt the wet spot through Maxwell's boxer briefs. He had actually came while giving him head. “Oh god, Max.” That turned Liam on more than he could have ever imagined. 

“I’m already hard again.” Max breathed out a laugh. “I don’t think that’s ever happened to me so quickly.”

“Then let’s make the most out of it.” Liam smirked as he picked up the forgotten can of whip cream from the floor.

The next morning, Maxwell awoke curled up next to Liam. He usually didn’t sleep in Liam’s suite so the staff or Constantine wouldn't suspect anything between them. But his heart swelled as he watched the man he loved more than anything in the world sleeping peacefully beside him. Both of them had fallen asleep completely naked and the silk sheet draped across Liam’s lower half made him look like a work of art fit for a museum.  Max couldn’t help but take a picture. He giggled as he kneeled beside him, making sure to get the perfect angle of his muscular torso. God, he was gorgeous.

Max made sure to leave his handcuffed wrists out of the photo. Seeing him have to wear them every night, broke his heart a little. The most perfect man in the world held such a terrible secret. Maxwell was in awe at the fact that Liam trusted him enough to let him restrain him each night, but it left him a bit worried that Liam was completely helpless to anyone or anything that could come in. He didn’t want to think about it. There were guards. No one would be breaking into the Prince’s bedroom to try and hurt him. But Maxwell’s heart started thumping a bit faster as his mind raced.. Maybe he would start sleeping in here more frequently. Maxwell wrapped his arms around Liam’s waist, his bare chest pressed against his boyfriends, savoring the fact that Liam was his completely.. he would do anything to keep him safe.

Liam stirred and instinctively tried to pull his arms down. He still hadn’t completely gotten used to sleeping in handcuffs. He felt the warmth of Maxwell’s body against his chest and smiled. He slept in here. God, he loved Max so much. As much as Liam wanted to, he still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell his father. He didn’t like keeping Maxwell hidden away like a dirty secret. Max deserved better.. He deserved the world. Liam decided that today was the day he was going to tell his father. Surely he wouldn’t say anything negative. Surely he wanted his son to be happy.

Max snuggled closer to Liam, who sighed happily. “Good morning handsome.” He leaned forward as much as he could to give Max a kiss on his forehead.

“Good morning hot stuff.” Max smirked, placing soft kisses against Liam’s bare chest. “What have you got planned for today?”

“Ugh.. my father wants me to sit in on some trade meeting with Italy.”

“Booooring.” Max chuckled.

Max leaned over the side of the bed to grab the handcuff keys, the sheet completely slipping off of him. Liam groaned, checking out his ass, “Oh god, please stay like that. No wait, uncuff me and bend over like that again.”

Max chuckled. “Dirty boy.” He straddled Liam's lap and began uncuffing his wrists. Max leaned down giving Liam a heated kiss once one wrist was free. Liam brought his free arm around Maxwell’s back, returning the kiss with fervor. The satin sheets had slipped away, and their completely bare bodies touched in the most delicious way.

“Mmm, let me get this other hand unlocked so we can have some real fun.” Max reached up, fumbling with the key as he continued kissing Liam.

Suddenly the door flung open and there stood the one person in the palace they hadn’t told.

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [96]

xii. the stranger

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, fighting, violence, blood, language.

Summary: faced with the aftermath of bellamy’s betrayal, you finally get a chance to talk to him, only to discover that he may be too far gone.

a/n: i do not know what to say in these notes right now bc i just know yall are cussing me out with every update lmao the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You sit on the flimsy mattress beside your twin, your hand held tight in her own, both of your expressions contemplative as you try to figure out what the hell is going on. Across from you, Octavia sits on her own bed, looking at you both, a soft laugh slipping from her mouth. You and Clarke lift your gazes to her in tandem, and Clarke looks at Octavia with mild annoyance. “Something funny? Because I don't see anything humorous about this.”

“I’m laughing because I’m realizing just how much I missed the Twinadoes. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you both together.”

Clarke’s expression softens, her curiosity causing her to ask, “How long were you on Penance?”

“We call it Skyring. 10 years, good ones.”

You smile, remembering some of your better memories from Skyring. Cooking with Gabriel, chess with Orlando, braiding flowers into Echo and Hope’s hair. You whisper, “They were.”

Clarke turns to look at you in confusion, unaware of how long you’ve been apart. “You were there?”

“Not with Octavia, Diyoza, and Hope. We came later, the four of us: me, Gabriel, Echo, and Hope.”

“How long were you there?”

“Five years.”

Her jaw drops in shock, “It’s been five years for you?”

You nod and you see tears in her eyes. She drops your hand to pull you in a hug, and you're grateful for it, grateful to be back with your twin, even if it is in a jail cell. “Oh my god, la lune. I’m so sorry, we had no idea or we would have come sooner.”

You shake your head, pulling away to smile at her. “It’s not your fault, Clarke. It was only a few days for you, there’s no way you could have known.”

She looks at you, and you can tell she wants to know more, but she hesitates, not wanting to push you. You read her mind and look between her and Octavia. “It was hard at first. Really hard. The first few months...all I could think about was saving Bellamy and Octavia, and getting back to you and Madi. But over time, Gabriel, Echo, Hope, and Orlando wore me down. I started to warm up to them, and then one day I woke up and I realized that I hadn’t worried about the time at all the day before. I felt guilty about that at first, but once I stopped religiously counting down the days, time went faster after that. It wasn’t so bad in the end. We had peace, and we became a family, sharing meals and stories. And even though I missed both of you, and Bellamy, and Madi and the rest of our family, I was happy.”

Octavia and Clarke can sense that you have more to say, and Clarke reaches out to grab your hand again, prepared to console you. “And then we got here, to Bardo, and it was worse than I could have imagined. Because in the five years it took for us to play house on Skyring, Bellamy was killed here. I let myself relax too much, and he ended up dead. All those years of training...for nothing.”

Clarke squeezes your hand, and you glance at her before looking away, tears welling up in your eyes as you remember the loss you felt three months ago. “I lost it when I found out, which is why I can’t blame Echo for nearly crystallizing us all. She knew how hard all of this has been on us, and she tried to do what she thought was best to make things right again. She went about it the wrong way, but her heart was in the right place. Anyways, I do believe there are good people on this planet, but I know that Cadogan is not one of them. I want nothing more than to get the hell off Bardo. Nothing good has happened to me here, besides reuniting with all of you, and I just want to escape.”

“Me too.”

“Too bad my brother betrayed us to a man he just met.” Octavia sighs, turning her gaze to Clarke. “You know, I was just starting to understand you, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore. We’ll probably be dead soon anyways.”

Clarke’s brows pull together as she looks at Octavia, “Really? How so?”

“You have Madi, I have Hope. I'd do anything to keep her safe.” She scoffs a little, tears welling up in her eyes, and you and Clarke both look at her with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“A couple of days ago, she was just our little girl. Now she's messed up like the rest of us.”

You and Clarke both stand from your bed and move over to Octavia’s, splitting apart to sit on either side of her. Octavia takes one of your hands and one of Clarke’s, and the three of you sit together in silence, sorrow hanging over all of you as you think of the tragedies you’ve all experienced. And as the three of you sit together, the door to your cell slides open and Bellamy steps inside, looking different from the last time you saw him. His hair is cut and his beard is gone, his face clean shaven for the first time in a long time. It reminds you of the Bellamy you first met on the Ark, in more ways than one. Because this Bellamy is just as much of a stranger to you as that Bellamy was.

Bellamy walks inside the room, his white robes flowing, flanked by two guards on either side of him. You look at him in shock and cock your head to the side, masking your hurt with your anger. “You need back up to talk to us now?”

He turns to glance at the guards behind him, waving them out of the room. “It’s okay.”

As they step out of the room and the door slides shut behind them, the three most important women in Bellamy Blake’s life stand, a wall of strength and anger as they look at him. You are the first to break the silence, looking at your fiance in disbelief. “It’s about time. Bellamy, what the hell was that?”

Before he can answer, Clarke adds, “I have been racking my brain, trying to figure out how you telling Cadogan the truth about the Flame helps us. You know what I've come up with? It doesn't.”

Bellamy’s voice is soft, sounding conflicted as he shakes his head slightly. “I couldn't lie to him.”

Octavia snaps, “Really? Why not?”

He glances over at her, then Clarke, then you, relaying his reasoning on his change in behavior. “I had an experience, something that changed me to my core, something that explains why we're still here and where we're going. It came to me in a vision. Mom was there.”

Octavia gives him a weird look, unconvinced, and he continues, “The Shepherd led me to her, and there was a light, and it was beautiful and warm and peaceful, and I chose it. And when I opened my eyes, the storm had passed, just like that.”

You, Clarke, and Octavia share a bewildered look, and you look at your fiance, your anger softening a little as you take in his hurt expression. “Bellamy, I love you, you know that, but this sounds...crazy.”

He turns to you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your confused expression. “Natshana, I know how this sounds, but it’s real.”

You flinch a little when he uses the nickname, your brain struggling to see the man you love in the disciple in white that stands before you. He sees you flinch, and a look of hurt passes over his face before he turns to look at all of you again. “A war is coming, the Last War we will ever fight. Win it, and we become the light.”

Clarke snaps, “Is that what the cult leader told you?”

She turns and starts to pace, as Octavia steps forwards and adds, “Did he tell you what happens if we lose?”

“We won't.”

Octavia shakes her head, telling him anyways. “We turn into crystal, wiped out like Medusa, turning people into stone. It's the end of everything.”

“Not everything, just us.” 

“Just us?” You look at him in confusion. “Bellamy, everything we have done, we have done to survive. To help our people survive. And now you’re willing to risk everything on Cadogan’s insistence that we’ll win the Last War?”

He gives you a conflicted look, giving you a flash of hope that maybe he isn't gone forever. But then he pushes it away and looks over all of you, his voice growing louder and more insistent as he tries to convince all of you that him following Cadogan is not as weird as you think it is. “If I told you the AI that destroyed the Earth was storing our minds in the City of Light, would that be any more believable? What about a group of astronauts turning themselves into gods by transferring their minds into the bodies of their own followers in order to live forever?”

Exasperated, Clarke sighs, stopping her pacing to turn to Bellamy and throw her hands up in frustration. “Okay, yes! We've seen our share of crazy, but that doesn't change the fact that fighting some war to become the light is as ridiculous as the clothes you're wearing.”

He pulls a face, hurt by her comment on his clothes, but he pushes past it. “There's one way to find out: tell me where the Flame is.”

Clarke’s denial is firm and resolute. “No.”

“Clarke, yesterday, you were offering it up in exchange for safe passage.”

“Yesterday, I was bluffing! I made a deal to save my twin and my friends, knowing damn well I had no intention of following through with it. Today, I'm standing in front of my best friend, who I thought was dead, and I don't even recognize him.”

His expression is hurt, tears springing into his eyes as he steps closer to all of you, his gaze locked on Clarke. “I am the same person who helped bring you back from the dead, who refused to give up on you. There is so much more at stake here than you know.”

He turns to you, making his final, teary eyed plea to you. “I know you don't believe in transcendence, but I'm telling you it's real, and I am asking you to believe in me.”

You glance at Clarke and Octavia, their expressions letting you know that believing in Bellamy means believing in Cadogan. Something the three of you are determined not to do. Because even though you love Bellamy with all that you are, and you want to believe him, you know that this isn’t right. He betrayed all of you in the blink of an eye for a man that he thought was crazy back on Earth, and you’re worried just how far his devotion to Cadogan will go. You can tell something happened to Bellamy, something changed him, and you’re willing to listen to him to find out what that is, but you’re not willing to support Cadogan.

Which is why you turn back to Bellamy, trying to ignore the tears in his eyes, your voice sounding soft, but regretful. “Even if you're right, even if everything you're saying is true, we will not help that man start his war.”

He looks from you to Clarke to Octavia, seeing if they agree with you. When they make no move towards him, or say nothing to dispute your claim, he shakes his head and looks down at his feet. You can see him visibly recompose himself before he looks back up at Clarke. “Tell me where the Flame is.”

Octavia locks eyes with her brother, asking, “Or what?”

“I’m trying to save you! All of you, but if you don't tell me where it is, they will execute all of you. Please let me help.”

Your eyes widen at the word execute. It's one thing for the three of you to speculate that you're facing death, it’s another to have Bellamy confirm that they're ready to kill all of you if you won’t give them what they want. And despite the shaky intake of breath that you hear Clarke take, her answer to Bellamy’s request is unwavering. “Go float yourself.”

You turn and step back towards Clarke, the sadness in the room shifting to anger again. Octavia gives Bellamy a disappointed look before she turns towards you and Clarke, all of you turning your backs on Bellamy, standing together and comforting each other, waiting for him to leave. But instead of leaving, he sighs and calls out, “Guards.”

The three of you hesitantly turn towards the door, watching as four guards step into the room. Bellamy looks them all over before motioning towards Clarke. “Take this one to M-Cap.”

Clarke gives him an incredulous look, “What?!”

The guards close in on Clarke, and the two of you exchange a panicked look as they grab her arm and start to pull her towards the door. You jump towards her, trying to grab the hand that is reaching out for you. You’re all too familiar with the pain of M-Cap, and it’s not a pain that you want Clarke to experience. “La lune!”

“Clarke!”

As your hand closes around hers, you are pulled backwards by your other arm, one of the other guards in the room stopping you. You turn and punch him, getting him off of you, trying again to run after Clarke. As she is pulled out of the door, you hear Octavia protesting, but she is stopped in place by her brother. You run after your twin, barely making it past Bellamy before you are grabbed from behind and yanked backwards, onto the ground. One of the guards pins your arms to the floor while the other grabs you by the front of your shirt and punches you, pain exploding behind your left eye and cheekbone. They hit you again, blood blooming across your tongue as you accidentally bite down from the force. A third punch smashes your nose, and you're sure you can feel blood trickling down to your mouth, though it’s hard to think much past the pain. 

You can hear Octavia yelling at her brother and Bellamy yelling commands at the guards, but your brain doesn't process them, too focused on the pain in your face. You feel your wrists being released, the weight of someone’s body leaving you, your body now free to roll onto your hands and knees and spit black blood onto the stone floor. You feel a hand on your shoulder and you flinch before Octavia’s soft voice whispers, “La lune, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You spit again, pulling yourself to your feet, your anger flaring white hot as you turn towards Bellamy, your earlier sympathy now gone. “What the hell was that?”

He looks over your face, at the blood dripping from your nose, the bruise blooming along your skin, and you can see a flash of worry cross his features as he urges, “You shouldn’t fight them, the Shepherd authorized them to-”

You cut him off, your voice loud, “I don’t care! Bellamy, what are you doing? Letting guards beat me up, sending Clarke to be tortured? This isn’t you!”

He shakes his head, another hurt look on his face. Five minutes ago, you wanted to comfort him through his conflict, hear about what he went through. But right now, your mind thinking of your twin in danger, a danger he sent her to, you want to hit him. You want to punch those puppy dog eyes until they swell shut. But you keep your cool and control your anger as he shakes his head. “It’s not torture.”

You let out a short laugh, pushing your hair out of the way to show him the scar on the right side of your face that runs beneath your level two symbols and into your hairline. “It is if you fight it, and you know damn well she will.”

“All she has to do is tell us where the Flame is, and we’ll let her go. We’ll let you go.”

“No way in hell are we going to give Cadogan what he wants. The Bellamy I love would be right beside me, opposed to doing anything for the crazed cult leader that’s so determined to start a war.”

Bellamy shakes his head, “He’s not a cult leader, and he doesn’t want to start a war. He wants us to transcend, to have real peace.”

“Do you hear yourself? War has never brought us peace, Bellamy. Only death and pain. But let’s say that Cadogan is right, and we do win this war and transcend. Torturing your friends, your family, people you love, watching us be locked up and potentially executed is not the way to do it. Doing the right thing the wrong way isn’t doing the right thing. You know that.”

“I’m trying to save all of you.”

You shake your head at him, in disbelief that the two of you are on opposite sides. After everything with Pike, you were sure that you’d never be on opposite sides again, especially not for something this big, yet here you are. You don't have the energy to argue with him right now, because he clearly believes in Cadogan, or wants to believe in Cadogan, and you’re sure that nothing you say will change his mind. So you turn away from him, shaking your head in disappointment, angrily swiping blood from your nose before muttering, “Get out.”

“La lune, please-”

You spin around and cut him off, your voice loud. “Don’t call me that! My family calls me la lune, and as long as you’re wearing those robes and worshipping the Shepherd, you are not my family, you are my enemy.”

You wait for his face to fall before you snap, “Now get out!”

This time, he obliges, turning away from you quickly, knocking on the door to alert the guards on the other side. As soon as he’s out of your cell and the door is closed, you collapse onto your flimsy mattress, your anger finally giving way to your tears. Octavia crosses the room and sits down beside you, the two of you wrapping your arms around each other and crying as you try to come to terms with who Bellamy is now.

-

A few hours after Clarke is dragged from the cell, your door opens again. You and Octavia stand, expecting it to be her, but instead it is a group of disciples, all of them pointing weapons at you as they demand, “Back against the wall, hands out in front of you!”

You and Octavia do as they say, stepping backwards and pressing your backs to the wall as you hold out your hands. A guard walks over to you and slips a pair of cuffs onto your wrists, a thick metal bar holding your arms apart, before they grab your arm and drag you to the door. You and Octavia are dragged through the halls of Bardo and led to the Stone Room, much to your surprise. As the doors open, you see that your friends are already here, lined up against the wall. Everyone looks at you in surprise, now more injured than the last time they saw you, but you shake off their worry, letting them know you’re okay. 

Octavia is led towards the end of the line, pushed between Hope and Niylah, while you are stopped at the opposite end, pushed between Gabriel and Jordan. Another disciple walks over and places a helmet at your feet before taking one down to Octavia, all of you now standing in a row with disciple helmets nearby, waiting for what’s next. Two disciples stand near the stone, and two more stand near the door, everyone waiting in silence, but Gabriel can't resist the urge to whisper, “Are you okay?”

“Looks worse than it is.” You smirk at him, trying to ease his tension, and he smiles back, right before one of the disciples snaps, “No talking!”

Less than a minute later, the doors to the room slide open. Two disciples stop just outside the door as two more walk inside, taking up their posts. Behind them is Cadogan, followed by Bellamy and the man that is likely replacing Anders, whose name you don't know. Behind them is Clarke, unrestrained, her eyes searching the line of prisoners until her eyes lock with you. Her expression drops at the sight of all of you restrained, but it drops further when she sees the bruise already darkening around your eye. “Why are they still restrained? We had a deal.”

You look at her, your eyes glancing at Cadogan, who has taken up a spot in front of the stone. “Clarke, what is this? What deal?”

“He releases all of us, and I take him to the Flame.”

Bill turns around, his gaze falling to Clarke. “You'll forgive me if I have trust issues where you're concerned.”

He turns to look at the man replacing Anders. “Remove the restraints one at a time. Any violence will be met with lethal force.”

Bellamy looks at you, his expression a warning as he addresses your group. “No one is getting violent. It's a good thing, you're being released.”

The man moves down to Miller first, slipping off his restraints before motioning down to the helmet on the floor. “Helmet on to protect your memory.”

Miller leans down and grabs the helmet, turning to look at Clarke as the Anomaly powers up beside him. “You good with this?”  

She nods, and he pulls the helmet on and allows himself to be led into the Anomaly. All down the line the others are unrestrained and led into the green glow behind Miller: Hope, then Octavia, Niylah. The man skips over Raven, who gives him a strange look, and moves on to Echo, freeing the former spy with a guarded look. “Sending the fighters first, is that it?”

He shrugs a little, “Can't be too careful.”

After Echo is Jordan, and you put your hands out after him, waiting your turn, but the man in front of you steps back, leaving you, Gabriel, and Raven behind, still restrained. Cadogan moves over to the stone and types in a code, the Anomaly closing behind Jordan, leaving the rest of you behind. You glance over at Clarke in confusion, wondering if this was part of the plan, and she gives you a look of worry, letting you know that it’s not. She steps towards Cadogan, a glare on her face. “What are you doing?”

“Ensuring you keep your part of the deal.”

Raven shifts closer to you, glaring at Cadogan as she moves, her lip curling into a sneer. “He didn't send them to Sanctum.”

“Correct.” He turns to look at her, smiling at her, and you want nothing more than to launch yourself at him and wipe the smile from his face. “And thank you for demonstrating why I didn't send you with them.”

Gabriel clicks his tongue, his gaze shifting to his feet before moving back up to Cadogan. “We know how the stone works.”

“Also correct.” You shake your head, confused, because you don't have knowledge of the stone in the way that Gabriel and Raven do. If anything, Echo and Hope know more about the stone than you, meaning they should be here too. Clarke seems to think the same thing, because she looks over at you before her eyes lock with Cadogan’s. “My twin doesn't know about the stone, so why is she here?”

The realization hits you as you look at her, the worry on her face to have you still among the dangers of Bardo. You shift your gaze to the cult leader and deadpan, “I’m an insurance policy. If you don't get him the Flame, I'm assuming that I'm the first to go.” 

Bill turns his condescending smile to you, confirming your suspicions. “Another correct answer.”

You glare at him, your mind on your friends and not your safety. “Where are they?” 

“They're safe, as I promised they would be. I said nothing about releasing them on Sanctum.”

Clarke turns on Bellamy, her anger radiating off of her in waves. “You knew about this?”

Bellamy looks at her, lost, clearly unaware of Bill’s plans, which the Shepherd confirms. “He doesn't know where they are, only I do. I told you, Clarke, I don't trust you. I do, however, trust the love you have for your friends and your twin, and once I have the Key and the Last War begins, they'll all be freed. At which point, each of you will be welcome to fight alongside us, and if you choose not to, well, we'll save you anyway. That is what we mean when we say, ‘for all mankind’.”

He turns, eyes moving over to the new Anders. “Doucette, please release the others, so we can retrieve the Key.”

Doucette walks over to Raven and pulls off her restraints as Cadogan once again opens the Anomaly, this time to Sanctum. Raven leans down to grab her helmet, and Doucette walks over to you next. You stick out your arms, waiting for your freedom, your brain already contemplating all the ways you’re going to get Clarke and the others out of this, when Bill’s voice calls out, “Not her.”

You look around the disciple to stare at the cult leader in shock. “What?”

“Your restraints will remain on, Miss Griffin. You killed 10 disciples in our oxygen farm, attacked First Disciple Anders before his death, and have assaulted countless guards since arriving on Bardo, two of them earlier today. I trust you even less than I trust Clarke, which is why you will remain restrained and at my side.”

From across the room, Bellamy speaks for the first time since your friends were sent away, his expression concerned as he looks at his leader. “Sir, I don't think that’s really necessary.”

“And I think it is. I’m sure you're aware of what she’s capable of more than any of us.” Bellamy’s expression drops a little, his mind clearly playing through an assortment of memories in which you fight or kill anyone that gets in your way. Cadogan notes his expression, stating with a nod, “That is why I’m keeping her restrained.”

You roll your eyes and drop your hands, accepting that, for now, your restraints will stay on. You're hesitant to push Cadogan in this moment, when everything is so tense and you’re surrounded by a room full of guards. You’re less concerned about your own safety and more concerned about the others, not wanting to do anything that’ll put Clarke or your friends in danger. You glance over at your twin, and you can tell that she wants to argue, but you shake your head at her, telling her you’re fine, you’ll be okay, and that none of this is as bad as it seems. You see her sigh a little before accepting the message, leaning down to pick up her own helmet. 

You grab your helmet as Gabriel is freed, and Cadogan turns and begins to give orders. “Disciples, I want most of you ahead of us. Weapons hot, remain in ghost mode, and take down anyone that is armed. Bellamy and Doucette will go ahead of me and the troublesome twin, and then Gabriel, Raven, and Clarke will bring up the rear, along with the remaining disciples. Is that clear?”

Everyone mumbles their assent and agreement, and you are pushed across the room, over to Cadogan’s side. You glare as you look at him, Bellamy moving past the two of you to stand in front of you, and you shift your glare to the back of his head. Because he barely fought for you. He seems more than content to leave you chained up like an animal. You hope he can feel your anger as Cadogan directs everyone to pull their helmets on, which you do clumsily, thanks to your restraints, and you hope Bellamy can feel your anger when you all step into the Anomaly and come out the other side on Sanctum. 

Except, instead of appearing in Gabriel’s tunnel under his camp, you’re in the palace, surrounded by armed guards. Russell is sitting on a throne made of skulls, wearing Grounder clothes, and you look around in confusion as you reach up to tug your helmet off. Clarke does the same thing, speaking the thought on all of your minds as you look around the room in confusion. “What the hell happened here?”

Murphy, who you didn't notice until this moment, is sitting across from Russell, his hands restrained, a chessboard in front of him. He smiles a little as he takes in the arrival of your group, but it drops at Clarke’s question. He glances briefly at Russell before deadpanning, “Oh, gee. Where to begin.”

You look around the room again, at the chaos that has apparently ensued since your departure, and you glance over at Clarke, wondering if it was like this when she left. But given the expression on her face and the confused look that she turns towards you, it wasn't. Which means your people managed to ruin not just Bardo, but Sanctum too. You can only hope that things here aren't that bad, though as you look towards Russell again, you're not sure that’s the case.

But nothing can be as bad as your time on Bardo, right?

-

next chapter

[ttttaehyungie]

masked | myg x reader

masked | min yoongi x reader oneshot

☘  pairing | min yoongi x vigilante superhero!reader ☘  genre | college au, superhero au, humor, romance ☘  rating | NC-17 ☘  word count | 5.2k ☘  warnings | swear words, major violence/fight scenes, some childhood trauma, sexual humor (it’s like,,, one word but i’ll just tag it anyway) ☘  summary | Between academics in the day and crime-fighting at night, and your dumb rivalry with that one pain-in-the-ass, fellow vigilante Vulture, you simply don’t have time for dating. But, damn, is it hard when your partner for project work is as cute as he is. ☘  a/n | y’aaallllll this was so enjoyable to write :’) I hope you all have as much fun reading as I did writing this!

Submitted as part of BWC’s 1st Anniversary Contest.

A fist flies towards your face. You dodge leftwards. You grab the hooligan’s arm where it lingers in the air from the failed punch. Twist. He yelps. But you show no mercy. You hold tight to his arm and spin sharply on your feet. Using the momentum from your movement, you throw him over your shoulder. Thud.

He’s dazed. You seize the chance to kick him over onto his front. Locking his arms behind him, you pin him down with a knee as you fumble around in your backpack for the ropes to bind him.

A giddy excitement bubbles up, effervescent in your chest. Finally! After weeks of failed attempts, you’re so close to a solid capture. It’s just a pickpocket; small fry, really. But it’s a capture nonetheless.

Just as long as- you peek upwards to check- ok. It seems you’re in the clear. Vulture isn’t here. Wait-

Something rustles to your right. You jump in shock.

The thug takes advantage of the shift in your weight. He wrestles his arms free and pushes himself up, and you go tumbling off him. Before you can recover, he’s already sprinting off into the distance. No! He’s getting away!

In panicked desperation, you raise a hand and shoot out a force field. Dumb move. It only boosts him forward, aiding his escape. Ugh. Your victory slips like sand through your fingers.

Crack. A flash of blue pops into the middle of the street.

You roll your eyes. Part of you is relieved that the thief is not getting away. But for the most part? Unbridled annoyance.

You slump back on the ground to watch Vulture teleport in, capture the thief that you’d spent the last twenty minutes pursuing, and teleport out. All under two minutes.

Just as he’s been doing for the last few weeks. Damn. When will you ever catch a break?

“Rough night?”

Seems like your stifled yawn was not concealed well enough. Feeling slightly self-conscious, you shoot him a sheepish smile.

“Yeah. Busy fighting those assignments, y’know.”

He hums in understanding. “Let’s take a five minute break. I’m getting tired too.”

You nod. Yoongi stretches his arms out above his head and leans to the side to get in a good side stretch. Meanwhile, you avert your eyes. The sliver of skin that peeks out from where his shirt rides up has your cheeks growing warm.

“I’m gonna fill my bottle,” you announce, getting up from your shared table. “Do you want anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

The water fountain is just outside the library, but the short walk from the discussion pod and back is enough for you to shake off the drowsy haze you were in. By the time you return to the tiny room- they really weren’t kidding when they called it a pod- the spring is back in your step.

Yoongi looks up as you step back into the room and flashes you a smile. It’s small, but disarming as hell. Your heartbeat picks up.

“Recharged and ready to fight this project?” he jibes.

Right. The project. The project that you’re paired up for, literally for no other reason than sheer convenience. You just happened to be sitting next to each other when it was announced. But it’s fine. You’re chill, Yoongi’s chill. And that’s why you knew it was ok to just turn to him and ask, “Wanna pair up?”

The project is the only reason the two of you are talking. It’s not that you didn’t have any other opportunity to. Not at all. You’re both in the same course and you live in the same dorm.

And it’s not that you dislike the guy. In fact, far from it. If you’re being totally honest, Yoongi is 100% your type. Chill, and a laidback sense of humor with his light jokes. And not to mention, real easy on the eyes. With his platinum blonde hair- his dark roots just beginning to peek through- and striking eyes, all topped off with that heartstopping smirk of his, there is only one conclusion to be drawn. Yoongi is objectively attractive.

You’ve acknowledged this the moment you set your eyes on him at your dorm orientation tour. His blonde hair was freshly bleached at that point and pulled back in a snapback, showing off the bold, black brows that complemented his sharp, feline eyes.

It was uncontrollable. He’s just the kind of attractive that exerts a magnetic pull on your gaze, drawing you in relentlessly no matter how many times you avert your eyes.

And the kind of attractive that makes you lose track of what’s happening. You realized belatedly that you’d zoned out from the tour.

“-survival tips. Make sure you collect your laundry from the dryer promptly. One, because people who hog the machines are inconsiderate assholes. Two, because the dorm cat has a habit of stealing socks and underwear. So unless you like the idea of your unmentionables as surprise gifts for your neighbors- in which case, you’re a psychopath-, please just collect your laundry on time.”

A quick glance at the group around you confirmed that you’re not the only one bewildered by Jin’s words.

“Oh!” Jin’s voice cut through the buzz of confusion. “Just one last thing. There’s a strict no dating rule between the RA and students. I know, I know. It’s hard resisting this gorgeous face. But let’s all give it our best attempt, alright?”

You remember scoffing internally at Jin��s words. There’s just one simple rule you have for yourself in college. No dating.

Between your studies in the day and crime-fighting at night, you simply don’t have the time for it.

And it’s this same rule you have to remind yourself of as you tear your eyes away from the sight of Yoongi casually running his hand through his hair as he contemplates the project.

Just one last loop and- fuck. Did the loser call for backup? You drop the ropes to throw up a force field. The aluminum bat gets flung off into the distance, careening off your invisible force field. Thank god you heard the heavy footsteps approaching. You’ve been on the receiving end of baseball bat attacks, and let’s just say you’ve come to empathize greatly with baseballs after that experience.

You swivel to face him. Block his hook. Uppercut. The thug staggers backwards, clutching his jaw.

There’s movement in your periphery. The first guy has disentangled himself from the ropes. You spot him just as he breaks into a run. Shit. He’s escaping.

A kick lands itself in your side, sending you to the ground. Snap. A cold sense of dread fills the pit of your stomach as the visual of your wrist bent at an awkward angle registers in your mind. The tingling pain blooms as you shake it out.

But you don’t have time to take care of that right now. You’ll have to rely on the adrenaline to keep you going.

You take a second to check if your mask is still in place- alright, you’re good. Turning your attention back to the asshole that attacked you, you fix him with a glare. Before this, it was just a moral obligation to stand against lawlessness. Now, it’s personal.

You recover into a squat. Swipe a kick at his feet. He lands heavily. From his crumpled position on the ground, he makes a grab for you. But you shoot out a force field. The wind’s knocked out of him with the way he’s sandwiched between your blow and the hard asphalt.

Your kick is unnecessarily hard as you roll him onto his front. But an eye for an eye, y’know.

Learning from your earlier mistakes, you tie this one up swiftly.

“Ooh, kinky,” he mutters.

Your sharp retort sits tantalizingly on the tip of your tongue. But it’s too risky to speak. It’s far easier to get recognized by your voice than one would think. You would know. Even after over a decade, the memory of that gravelly voice still haunts you.

“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Smash! “I repeat. Where’s the safe?!”

No, you’ll never be able to forget it.

The thug beneath you grunts as you tug the knot extra tight. He deserves it anyway.

Now here’s the only part you hate about successful captures- lugging the offenders to the police station. It’s times like this you really wish you had a different superpower; superstrength, or superspeed, or, dare you say it, teleportation. You’ve considered using your force fields to lob the criminals forward, but all superpowers have their limits. It takes too much out of you to do that and you’ll be too drained to get back to the dorm by the end of it.

And so, with little care for how unglamorous it looks, you drag the thug all the way to the police station two blocks down.

It’s as you’re nearing the station, tasting the sweet relief of your task finally coming to an end, that you hear it- crack. The flash of blue pops up right before the station.

If it weren’t for the flash of blue and prominent crack sound, you wouldn’t have noticed him. Dressed head to toe in black- much like your own get-up-, Vulture manifests out of nowhere, together with a burly, scar-faced man. The other thug from earlier.

This is the closest you’ve been to Vulture. Before this, you’ve only ever seen him in the distance as he pops in to pick up your thugs and pops back out. But now, you’re close enough to pick up on the narrow gold trim that subtly lines his otherwise midnight black mask.

The thug in your hands groans at the sight of his accomplice having been caught. Vulture’s head whips towards you, finally alerted to your presence. Hurriedly, he drops ol’ scarface at the doorstep of the station and teleports out.

Damn, looks like you’ll be playing ding dong ditch by yourself again tonight.

Depositing the thug next to his accomplice, you thump on the door of the station twice and sprint back into the cover of the night.

The pain is truly setting in now. The adrenaline from earlier is all gone and there’s nothing sedating the pain. As if indignant from being ignored, the gnawing pain in your wrist comes biting back now with a vengeance.

But you’re already on campus grounds, so it’s just one more dash across the green, skirt stealthily around the building, up the tree to your second-storey dorm room, and you’ll be home free.

Your wrist throbs. At this point, you crave nothing more than to be showered and tucked into your bed in your jammies. Exhaustion from the entire ordeal laces your bones as you sneak your way back to the dorm.

Ok, it’s just round the corner now and- your heart leaps in your chest when you spot the shadow. Shit. In your impatience you’ve become complacent. You spin to identify the source and oh, thank god. It’s just the dorm cat skulking around in the quiet of the night.

Climbing the tree into your room has never been the easiest thing, but it’s made ten times harder with your wrist out of commission. But somehow, you manage it.

After a quick shower, you head to the shared kitchen to grab some ice for your wrist. You opt to leave the kitchen lights off, the shroud of darkness like a comforting blanket.

“Fancy seeing you awake.”

You jolt. Oh. Yoongi. You weren’t really banking on anyone else being awake.

“I could say the same to you,” you say, hand over your heart. “What are you doing up? It’s three am.”

He raises his water jug in reply. “What about you?”

“Lost track of time doing assignments,” you make up on the fly. “And then I tripped over my books in my sleepy state and busted my wrist.”

“Oh damn,” he says, hoisting himself off where he was leaning against the counter. “Can I take a look?”

His fingers are gentle as they turn your wrist to examine the damage. You try not to stare at how long and pretty they are. How is this even fair? How is it that even his fingers are attractive?

“It’s pretty swollen.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Let me get you an ice pack.”

You don’t trust your voice, so you just nod, and move to sit.

He digs out someone’s bag of frozen peas and places it gently over your wrist where it lays on the table. The next fifteen minutes is spent in quiet conversation. Despite his quiet exterior, you discover that Yoongi is surprisingly easy to talk to. Of course, you’ve talked to him during your project meetings. But the content of your conversations then are largely restricted to the task at hand.

But here, in the midnight darkness, you find that the hushed words and laughter flow with such easy chemistry, and you desperately try not to fall any harder for him.

You take the peas- half-melted and dripping now- and dump it on the table. Wiping your wrist off on your shirt, you retrieve your bandage from your pocket and attempt to tie it yourself as Yoongi watches.

“Need help?” he offers.

“M’fine,” you reply distractedly.

“Really?”

Your family’s always lamented your obstinate nature, and you guess it’s not baseless.

Yoongi’s hand grasps yours. “Let me.”

Before your hand starts shaking from the nervous energy that’s growing in you, you let go of the bandage resignedly.

His expression is plain as he binds your wrist, as if this is a daily occurrence for him. Maybe it is. His movements look practiced, and the bandage is just tight enough that it restricts movement without cutting off blood circulation.

“You’re good at this,” you say. “Is there some secret side to you that you’re not revealing?”

He laughs a little. “I used to play basketball, and injuries were really common.”

You watch in fascination at the expert movements of his hands. Tucking the end of the bandage in, he pats your newly bandaged wrist lightly.

“All done.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

“Take care of yourself. I still need you alive for our project.”

Accompanying the usual morning bleariness that plagues you whenever you have just woken up, this morning it’s coupled with a dull ache in your wrist. Right. Your sprained wrist.

Shifting carefully to avoid placing any weight on your injured arm, you sit up to inspect the dressing. It’s a little mussed up, but its structural integrity is largely intact. Good, you won’t have to redo the bandaging then.

Or worse still, ask Yoongi to patch you up again.

Memories of the dimly lit kitchen come back to you, the faint glow of the corridor lights falling on the contours of his face, the high planes illuminated in an orange luminescence.

In the low light, the way his hands moved as they wrapped your wrist up wasn’t any less elegant and entrancing. The pressure that it exerted on your tender flesh was gentle, taking care not to aggravate the swollen injury.

Fuck. As if you weren’t already having a hard time holding off your feelings for him. Feelings had been bubbling up in you ever since orientation and they grew ever more persistent with each project meeting.

Why did he have to be attractive and nice? It would have been much simpler if he were just an asshole. But no, his personality just had to be as attractive as his appearance, didn’t it?

You stretch to work out the residual sleepiness, but your right rib aches in protest. Lifting your shirt and inspecting it in the mirror, a purplish bruise greets you. That sidekick really did a number on you.

Mornings like this really make you think twice about your decision to walk down the vigilante path. Mornings when the twinging pain of injuries sustained and the fatigue from having spent half the night patrolling the streets is just a little too much to bear. Mornings like this really have you wondering if you should just give it up for a normal college student’s life.

It’s truly tempting. The prospect of getting more than three hours of sleep per night is so delicious. Cuts and bruises would be a rarity. And the fluttery feeling of having a crush on a cute guy wouldn’t have to be marked as a distraction and suppressed into oblivion anymore. You want it. So much. Mornings like this, you really want to call it quits.

But your memory prevents you from doing so.

The way your mum’s hand trembled around yours as she urgently pulled you to the backroom is seared into your mind forever. Even now, your hand quivers.

Her eyes are wide with fear as she whispers, “Stay quiet.”

“The supers will be here soon, right, mum?” you ask.

“That’s right, ____.” She tucks your hair behind your ear with a shaky hand. “We just have to wait for the supers to get here.”

With that, she closes the door and the darkness envelops you. The padlock clicks just outside the door.

“Where’s the safe?” A gruff voice asks. Shivers trail down your spine.

“The cops are on their way,” you can hear your dad respond. Pride fills you at his bravery. “Look, you don’t have to do this. You can walk away right now and-”

“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Smash! “I repeat. Where’s the safe?!”

You can hear your mum’s pleas between hiccuped sobs.

“Well if you’re not going to tell me,” the voice continues, “I’ll just have to use brute force.”

More destruction ensues. You wince with every crash, keeping a lid on the whimpers that threaten to escape you. Where are the cops?! Where are the supers?!

“A locked door. Is that an indication of something?” The voice is close now; only the door stands between you.

Bam! The door before you rattles violently. You, too, shake in fear.

“I’ll tell you where it is!” Your dad panickedly relents. “The safe. I’ll tell you where the safe is.”

“Glad you changed your mind, old man.” The footsteps retreat.

And as you emerged from the room later that night, your nine-year-old eyes taking in the wreckage and the distinct absence of help from the police or from the supers that supposedly kept your city safe, your dreams shattered just like the glass shards that laid scattered across your parents’ store.

Ever since you discovered your powers at age five, it became your ambition to become a super. With a flashy power like yours, the chances of it happening were reasonably high.

But all that changed when your parents’ store was mugged. The supers you so admired were nowhere to be found. They were simply too busy fighting other bigger fish out there. And the police? It was a known fact that they’d gotten complacent ever since the advent of the supers.

And that left smaller stores- stores like your family’s- unprotected and susceptible to attacks by ruffian gangs that reigned in the streets. No one cares for petty crime. Not when there are bigger battles to fight out there. It was a flaw in the system.

A flaw that you aim to address through your vigilantism. What use were your flashy powers and lofty ambitions when you just remained frozen in inaction when the time calls for it? The gnawing guilt morphed into a thirst for redemption. You would become the defender of the streets.

So as lonely and draining as it is to live this life of masked identities, you can’t possibly give it up. Your conscience won’t let you.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come out to the streets just days after sustaining your injury. But after icing and resting it for a day, you swear your wrist is feeling much better. Plus, you skipped your usual nightly patrols last night, but the guilt and worry had left you restlessly tossing and turning in bed. So here you are, mask on and back out on the streets.

The thug takes a swing at you. Normally you would have countered it with a block to follow quickly with a punch of your own. But with your wrist out of commission, you choose to duck down. Even your force fields would cause your wrists to absorb some impact, so the moves at your disposal are severely limited today.

You land a roundhouse kick to his side. He sputters. But he responds swiftly with a counterattack.

You’ve tried to attack mainly from your legs. Even so, your wrist feels the effects of the fight. Wrapped in its bandage, albeit sloppier than Yoongi’s expert dressing the other night but still secure enough, your sprained wrist throbs dully from the exertion.

In an attempt to soothe the ache, you roll it out- ah, the pain flares up your arm. You take deep breaths to work through the pain. You have to keep moving.

But it seems the thug has noticed your weakness. He moves quickly. Grabs your wrist and twists.

“AHHH!” The shrill scream of agony that escapes you is reflexive.

Somewhere in the midst of the white hot pain, you manage to scrape together enough sense of mind to shoot out a force field. It’s weak, and it adds yet another layer to your pain, but it’ll suffice. The thug stumbles back off-kilter.

You cradle your aggravated injury to your chest and blink back the tears. This was a bad idea. Maybe you should just give it up for tonight. It won’t be the first time a thug has gotten away, after all.

But it seems that he hasn’t had enough. He storms towards you, his face curled into a sneer.

You clench your fists. It protests in pain, but you ignore it and lower yourself into a fighting stance. You’re not sure what you can do now with the state that you’re in, but you have no choice.

Just as he picks up into a run, he’s yanked back. The immensity of the relief that washes through you as you hear that crack is so overwhelming, your legs go slightly jelly.

Vulture materializes, in his usual all-black attire, from beanie to combat boots. The gold trim of his mask glints ominously under the moonlight.

The thug takes a knee to the stomach. Vulture’s movements are so quick and sharp, the thug retches slightly. A right hook follows, without missing a beat. The thug veers to his right from its impact. But Vulture doesn’t give him an inch. He throws a left uppercut. A solid kick to the chest seamlessly completes the combo. The thug collapses in a heap on the ground.

Vulture moves like a predator on the hunt. The pace at which he stalks forward is completely unhurried. The lowlife attempts to crawl away, but he’s jerked back by the collar.

Still clutching your wrist, you watch dumbly as Vulture teleports away with the thug before you can get a word of gratitude in.

When you finally rouse from slumber the next morning, it’s from being jolted awake by the unmuffled blare of a car horn. The soundproofing in your room is shitty, but not normally this shitty. Turning to the window through which you slipped into your room last night, you realize it’s open. You were probably too tired to remember to shut it last night.

You pad over to the window, meaning to close it, when you step on something cool and smooth, but very unfamiliar. You retract your foot and look down.

Icy fear grips you. The sensation of it under your foot may have been unfamiliar, but the sight of it is definitely not. Laying on your floor is a black mask lined with gold trim.

What does this mean? Is it supposed to be a sign? Is it some sick joke? Has Vulture figured out who you are? What does he want from you?

Picking it up in your hands and skimming your thumb over the textured leather, you recall the way Vulture defended you last night. Sure, you get frustrated when he swipes your captures. But you can’t deny that, ultimately, you’re on the same side.

But having operated wordlessly all this while, and only coming in for the kill, Vulture remains an enigma. You can’t be sure of his real agenda when you’ve never fought side by side with him, let alone exchanged a word. But you can’t blame him either. You haven’t been one to break the silence either.

Perhaps you will have to now.

As it turns out, you don’t get the chance to. Break the silence, that is. For the third night in a row now, Vulture is a no show.

And for the third night in a row, the criminal gets away.

You’re tempted to blame it on your sprained wrist. But you can’t help but recall all the times thugs have slipped out of your grasp, only to be picked off by Vulture. Honestly, these last three days have you reluctantly acknowledging that your job is much harder without your silent partner.

You strain your ears in anticipation of a crack sound. But for the third night in a row, you’re left disappointed.

What’s up with all these no-shows lately?

You groan as the call gets diverted to voicemail yet again. It’s the seventh call you’ve dialled to Yoongi. Checking the time, it’s now half an hour past your agreed upon meeting time.

You slam your laptop shut. This is ridiculous. Does he think that his cute face will let him get away with everything? Just because he’s produced nothing but quality work in your pairwork so far doesn’t excuse anything.

Ok. Maybe you’re being a little harsh on him. Maybe.

But can you be blamed for being in such a crappy mood? After the shit show that was the last few nights of crime-fighting, you’re already in a foul mood. And now, hauling your sleep-deprived self out of bed and to the library at eight in the morning on a Saturday morning, only to have your partner pull a no-show? Who wouldn’t be pissed?

You shove your things into your bag and trudge back to the dorm. If you get to his room and he’s still in bed… No one can hold you responsible for what you’ll do next.

But you spot him, squatting by the shrubs that line the dorm, as you’re making your way across the green, and he’s very much awake.

You march up to him, intending to tap him on the shoulder and give him a piece of your mind.

“That damn cat,” you hear him mutter. You pause, curiosity piqued. “THIS is why dogs are man’s best friend, not cats. Holly would NEVER.”

“Looking for something?” you ask. He jumps, and turns around.

“Oh, ____,” he says, standing up from his crouched position. “Yeah, I lost something.”

“Funny, because I was looking for something too for the past-” you check your watch dramatically “- half an hour now.”

He gasps. You can pinpoint the exact moment the realization hits him. “I’m so sorry! It totally slipped my mind.”

You sigh. He’s honestly too cute. As it turns out, the answer is yes. His cute face will indeed let him get away with everything; your anger is completely diffused.

“Let’s just take a break this week,” you say.

“You don’t have to do that on my account. Just give me five minutes to grab my stuff.”

“Nah, we’ve made sufficient progress on this assignment that we’ve earned it. And you look like you’re too troubled by whatever you’ve lost anyway,” you say with a wave of your hand.

You pause, weighing your next words. But damn your soft spot for him. “Hey, do you want an extra pair of eyes to help you look?”

He considers your offer for a second. Then, hesitantly, he says, “Ok. Yeah. That’d be great actually.”

“So what are you looking for?”

He purses his lips. Did the cat really steal his underwear? Whatever he’s lost must be pretty embarrassing if it’s this hard to tell you.

Finally, he sighs and spits it out. “I know it sounds weird but I’m looking for a mask.”

You feel your jaw go slack.

“A mask?” you echo hollowly. “Like a ski mask?”

“No, um.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Y’know what, forget I said anything. I’m sure I’ll find it myself.”

He turns back to inspecting the bush. But now you have to know.

“Is it a black mask? With gold trim?”

Yoongi freezes for a second. It’s all the answer you need.

He laughs, and you can tell it’s forced. “Have you seen it?”

“No way.” It’s a mumble at first, then it all comes tumbling out of your mouth. “No way. No way! YOU’RE Vulture?!”

“Vult- What?!”

“Right. Sorry. That’s just the name I gave you because you keep swiping my thugs. And yes, I’ve seen it. Seen it every night you pop in and steal my captures.”

“Wait,” he says, his eyes growing wide as he comprehends what you’re saying. “YOU’RE that hot vigilante with the cool force fields? The one who can’t keep the thugs restrained for nuts?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“Hey. You have no grounds to complain. Not when you call me Vulture.”

“I’m so tired,” you manage to whine through a whisper. “We bagged three criminals tonight. Can’t you just teleport us back to the dorm?”

“You know we can’t do that, love,” he whispers, rubbing your back. “My powers aren’t the most stealthy. And c’mon, we’re almost there.”

Behind your own mask, you smile contentedly. The lonely nights of crime-fighting have become not so lonely after all.

As it turns out, your synergy with Yoongi is not limited to academic work. It’s been a month now and your teamwork functions like a well-oiled machine, your force fields weakening the thugs and directing them to where Yoongi waits in the shadows to teleport them off to jail where they belong.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, barely maintaining your hushed tone. The dorm cat slinks round the corner, yanking you out of your thoughts.

“That damn cat,” Yoongi mutters.

You pinch his ear, one of the few exposed parts of his body in this attire. “If not for ‘that damn cat’, we wouldn’t have gotten together. You have much to thank this cat for.”

You can’t see it but you know that he’s rolling his eyes.

“You have no defence because you know I’m right,” you taunt.

“Fine, you are,” he says and begins to lift his mask to lean in for a kiss.

You pull it back down. “Don’t get distracted now. We can cuddle later when we’re back safe, ok?”

He huffs, but there’s a spring in his step that was not there before.

And as the two of you round the corner to clamber back up to the safety of your room, the dorm cat watches with eyes aglow in the moonlight.

Your window clicks shut. It’s safe now. Jin shape-shifts out of his cat form and smirks to himself. He still remembers the mutually stolen side glances from orientation. How could he not ship your two dorky asses?

And all the sneaking around that both of you were doing every night, unaware that you both had a masked companion in each other?

But ah, it seems that you’ve finally got your shit together. All he did was nudge you in the right direction. Looks like it worked. Mission accomplished.

[uwua3]

may I request taichi with friend/crush reader? reader asked taichi to help them dye their hair, and while the hair dye is processing they start to awkwardly flirt/joke with each other to the point that they don't notice how much time passed and the dye became too dark. i'm sorry if this is too specific, but thank you so much in advance if you do write it! take care! c:

hi hi, anon~ ☆ thank you so much for requesting! this made me sososo #Happy because taichi deserves all the love in the world 💗 !! ∪･ω･∪ please give our baby puppy nanao your heart 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 he deserves it! you also deserve love, anon~ ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) please accept all my #Love 💖✨ for this prompt! thank you for everything, i love you lots, okay? :D 💕

summary: when your best friend, taichi, texts you there’s an emergency, you come running to a bad hair day

author’s note: please love taichi lots, reader! that’s all~ have a good rest of your day and remember taichi & i will always love you sososo much !! (>◡<♡).:｡

word count: 3,055

music: dream boy – waterparks

bad hair day!

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

“where is he?!”

sakyo stared down at you, opening the door after waking up to repetitive pounding that nearly shook the whole dorm

you were still in your pajamas and out of breath—did you run over here?

before sakyo could angrily swear at you for making no sense just past midnight, you ducked underneath his arm and escaped around the corner

although some dorm lights were on, most of the rooms were pitch black as expected of it being a school day tomorrow. you were about to sprint into the slightly ajar door of room 105 before omi stepped out, an amused smile greeting you

“taichi’s in the bathroom, if you’re looking for him.” omi gestured towards the shared bathrooms at the end of the hallway, to which you gratefully thanked him and ran off again

(omi looked after you, a smile upon his tired expression. “kids these days.” omi yawned, heading back into his dorms and shutting the door softly behind him)

you didn’t take as much consideration into your actions before you slid into the communal bathroom, slamming the door behind you with uncontrollable force. you leaned against it, panting as you finally saw him

nanao taichi was sitting near the sink with three (3) boxes of random hair dye on the counters, very obviously confused and distressed

“taichi, what’s the emergency?!”

“my hair dye isn’t the right shade!”

“... are you serious?”

this was it. it was hair–dye day

except this time, it wouldn’t be just taichi’s hair transformation—you were getting a new look, too!

how did you get yourself into this mess exactly? maybe sleepily reading an urgent message from your best friend late at night declaring he was having an “emergency” wasn’t a good idea after all...

there was something about taichi’s big puppy eyes that couldn’t make you say no despite all your frustration, so here you were, tiredly following an overexcited boy down the aisles of the local convenience store

did i mention it was way too late? on a school day, by the way? i didn’t, well, now you know!

“taichi,” you called out, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes and tried not to wince at the bright led lights of the display. taichi barely paid attention, humming an incoherent answer as he browsed the rainbow shelf of hair dyes in front of him

“don’t you think... we should wait until tomorrow?” taichi seemed to process your words a moment late, because he turned towards you, bewildered as if you were the crazy one

yeah, you were crazy. taichi definitely wasn’t holding three wildly different boxes of hair dye and debating between all of them. he also definitely didn’t mislead you into thinking something happened when all he had was s bad hair day. you knew you had to intervene or else his usual red would become kazunari’s palette

“tomorrow? what’s wrong with now?”

“it’s almost midnight, we have school in nearly seven hours, and i know for a fact you didn’t do your homework.”

(taichi flinched at that and you were unsatisfied to see you were right, as always)

“i know that, but!—” “it’s midnight.” “hey, new day, new you, right?” “we have school in a few hours.” “think of how cool you’ll be showing up with dyed hair!” “you have homework.”

“i know, i know,” taichi shrugged, holding the boxes up to his line of sight with serious consideration as he glanced at you. with one look at your tiredness, taichi put the red cart down and completely faced you, putting his hands on your shoulders with a pout

“come on, don’t be like that!” taichi whined, nearly stomping his feet when you just huffed and looked away. jumping so he stayed in your view, it was like a pet wanting attention and using its cuteness as its charm

“hey, hey, look at me, please~?” taichi dragged out, moving his hands so they cupped your cheeks. he made you look at him and all you saw was a backwards baseball cap on a head of nearly half black hair and wide cyan eyes. he looked fully awake, you wondered where his infectious energy came from

“turn that frown, upside down!” taichi turned the corners of your lips up with his pointer fingers, making you automatically smile with the way his giggle got louder. “that’s my best friend!” taichi patted your cheeks again and bounced back down to his heels, rocking back and forth on his worn down sneakers

“look at us! we’re two high schoolers about to make an impulsive decision! nothing could go wrong!” taichi laughed and although there were a million things that could’ve gone wrong, you just sighed with a smile on your face

“you’re right.” you said even if he wasn’t. taichi just picked the cart back up and tilted his head towards the dyes, asking for your opinion on what colors you liked

you chose red, too. when taichi questioned why curiously, you patted his head and responded with, “so we can match!”. the boxes of hair dye you both bought were red just like taichi’s face when you answered honestly

sneaking back into the bathroom to avoid the “you have school” lecture from a very pissed off sakyo who still couldn’t go back to sleep, you and taichi failed at hushed whispers. everything felt like a joke and it didn’t exactly help taichi found everything you did hilarious and comical

setting down the boxes like it was second nature, taichi let out a sound of excitement at the colors. even if you were running on little to no sleep, you felt the same with the adrenaline of looking like a new person in just a few hours

“we’re gonna look so cool!” taichi squealed, taking his time mixing the dye color with the bowl and brush quickly

you sat on the sink counter, swinging your legs as taichi leaned onto the surface next to you, rambling away about how popular red was this season and how all the students will fall in love with his trendiness

used to your friend’s lovesick, hopeless romantic antics, you fondly rolled your eyes as you stretched, stifling a yawn

“is that why you decided to dye your hair tonight?”

“... maybe. there was advice that having perfext roots would attract any woman in my favorite love advice column!”

“...” “do you think people will like my hair?” “they might think we’re a couple since we’re matching.”

taichi suddenly stopped mixing, staring at the bowl wide eyed at the red dye. you were about to ask what happened, before taichi nervously laughed and looked towards the ground

“u–us? a couple?! no way...” taichi blurted out, avoiding your eyes as he began mixing even faster

“do you want me to change my color then—?” you cautiously started, about to change your mind before taichi interrupted hastily, almost knocking the other boxes over by waving his gloved hands

“no! i mean, haha... no, no, it’s fine! don’t worry about it!” taichi laughed so you slowly nodded, not buying it but deciding to go with the flow anyways. you were too tired to think about it too hard

you both unanimously agreed that taichi would dye your hair first. after all, he had more experience doing this by himself until you came along

one thing though, you didn’t want to ruin your pajama shirt. after rummaging through his closet quietly, you felt a t–shirt land on your head and heard a victorious laugh from the doorway

lifting the shirt, you recognized the one–eyed monster graphic design on the front, its tongue sticking out with some graffiti text above its head

“are you sure? you always wear this one?” you hesitated to take it before taichi forced it back into your hands, his expression easy and humorous

“take it, it’ll look better on you, anyways.” taichi casually said and you wondered how many smooth pick up lines he’s been reading. but, one look at his light smile and you could tell he genuinely meant it

returning back into the bathroom wearing a black t–shirt, you had changed into his t–shirt as well. while you were making sure all the dyes were separated to avoid any accidents, you barely noticed taichi stop dead in his tracks

(how come you looked so... good, in his t–shirt? maybe, he should give you his clothes more often... taichi gulped, wondering why he was suddenly feeling this way. it must’ve been the lack of sleep, the tiredness of staying up past his usual bedtime, that’s all!)

“are you ready for the best hair day ever?”

unexpectedly, taichi was quiet for the next hour or so. you could tell from the way he carefully applied just the right amount on your roots to how he knew the time on the box without even looking

maybe it was the way neither of you had proper sleep schedules, but you nearly fell asleep when taichi began combing your hair. after letting it develop, taichi began evenly distributing the red color while humming a popular pop song from his playlist in the background

you didn’t know when you dozed off, but you woke up to a flash of a camera and heard taichi’s snickers right in front of you. rubbing your eyes, you sat up straighter to notice a plastic bag was wrapped around your hair with an empty bowl of red dye discarded in the sink

“morning, sleepyhead~!” taichi greeted way too happily at this hour, making you groan as you stood up. “you didn’t sleep, taichi?” you wondered out loud, noticing how he scrolled through his phone aimlessly with a nonchalant sound

“yawn—i mean! i’m not even tired, gotta wait for your timer to go off to rinse your hair!” (it was his rule that he was always the last person to sleep if he was with you) taichi proudly held up his phone and showed you the screen, as if you could see it from there

(maybe if you could, you would’ve prevented the disaster about to occur in the very near future)

“your turn, puppy. come over here.” you stretched and taichi squealed, running over just to nearly knock over the chair from excitement. taichi always liked doing things with you, and you pampering him made him feel a lot happier than he’d like to admit

“can you stay still?” “i’m trying~! geez, so mean first thing in the morning... uuh...” “awww come on, don’t act like a kicked puppy, taichi!” “woof...”

it was the saddest bark you’ve ever heard. you smiled even if taichi was squirming in his seat and pet his dry hair, your best friend automatically leaning into your touch with a content sigh as he closed his eyes. oh, finally! taichi went still, letting you start the dye process quickly

just like you, taichi was on the verge of staying awake and falling asleep. it was nice to have someone taking care of you like a little kid, not to mention how neither of you have slept for more than half a hour at time. as you applied the rest and making sure all the sections were even, taichi stirred in his sleep with a cute yawn again

“i’m cool, right?” taichi mumbled, seemingly getting closer and closer to snoring. you held back a snicker, nodding your head as you kept going with the dye. for your first time, it wasn’t even that bad

“yes, of course. you’re the coolest boy at o high, taichi.” you reassured truthfully, to which taichi pouted like a kid, crossing his arms and leaning his head back. you made sure none of the dye dripped off before you started painting the bright red on again

“that’s not true... juza and tenma go to o high... they’re so popular, everyone loves them.” taichi added on sadly, but you knew he meant it and it wasn’t just fishing for compliments. wondering why a boy as amazing as taichi would have an inferiorty complex, you frowned and tried to focus on applying the dye

“well, i think you’re the coolest to me, then. after all, juza and tenma don’t have this cool red hair!” you almost ruffled his hair but stopped, knowing it’d mess up the part. taichi must’ve sensed you were about to do so, because he let out a loud, sudden laugh with a big smile

“hehe, you’re the coolest to me, too!” taichi trailed off into a low voice, about to fall asleep for good. you wrapped his head to make sure the hair stayed in place, satisfied with your hard work and dedication to your best friend’s appearance

“do you say that to everyone you meet?” you joked, but taichi just shook his head vigirously, entering sleepy puppy mode anyways

“no, just you, you know why~?”

“why?”

“‘cause... i like y...”

taichi snored, his head falling lower as he fell asleep for good. you didn’t even process it, deciding to take the seat next to him without checking the time

time to get some shut eye...

you slowly woke up, realizing that you were now laying your head on top of taichi’s. he was almost drooling on your shoulder, even breaths leaving his lips as he continued sleeping. you lifted your head to look around for the reason why you woke up, until you noticed the constant ringing of taichi’s phone on the sink counter

“puppy, wake up, it’s time to rinse our hair.” you pushed taichi off, automatically waking him up as he rapidly blinked, trying to focus his blurry vision as he yawned

“... has the sun always been up?”

you froze, staring at taichi’s casual expression before it morphed into shock, his wide eyes finding yours with urgency. don’t tell me...

you rushed off the chair, nearly hitting it to the ground as you grabbed taichi’s vibrating phone, looking at the screen. instead of a timer for rinsing, it was labeled for starting the school day

“taichi.” you said, slowly turning to see him staring back at you. the realization dawned upon both of you severely. “we have school in less than a hour.”

mankai bathrooms were always chaotic in the morning, especially with twenty (20) plus boys all sharing one space. yet, today might’ve been the worst day to use the bathroom yet

you and taichi immediately began cleaning up and rinsing your hair at the same time, losing your minds over the lack of time as you two knew both your hair could not be saved

“what if i’m not cool anymore?!”

“can we focus on going to school on time?”

(banri and juza were exchanging their usual harsh morning greetings to each other, walking side by side to the bathroom only to hear taichi’s pierching shriek and your immediate scream back. they shared a look before collectively going back to their room, not wanting to know. it was the first thing they agreed upon in a while)

taichi dashed out of the bathroom with half a hour to spare, quickly putting on his uniform on without noticing omi who stood by the door, holding onto taichi’s backpack with an amused glint to his eyes

when taichi finally found his o high dark green blazer and pants (his dress shirt buttons were mismatched, but that wasn’t important), he was about to run right past omi before omi put his arm out, stopping taichi from leaving

“forgetting something?” omi held out taichi’s backpack with a packed lunch, making taichi exhale with relief as he took it gratefully. “omi, you’re the best ever!”

omi instead shook his head and crossed his arms, gesturing towards the bathroom where you were still cleaning up the red mess

“no, they’re the best. make sure you tell them that.” omi scolded gently, ruffling taichi’s hair but suddenly narrowing his eyes, looking the teen up and down with a confused look

“huh...? didn’t you dye your hair, why isn’t it that red?”

“don’t remind me, omi!”

(fun fact: leaving hair dye on for longer than 45 minutes will in fact, make the color much darker than intended)

(also... dry hair...)

you luckily brought your uniform, thinking the big emergency would require a sleepover. you stepped out of the bathroom and apologized to the bewildered and incredulous line that formed outside, rushing off to find taichi shoving a piece of bread in his mouth

“here! catch!” you assumed taichi tried to say, because his words were muffled as he threw you something from the kitchen. you caught it with ease, putting it in your pocket as you and taichi said goodbye to everyone in the dorms

you two didn’t even bother addressing why taichi’s hair was many shades darker and why yours was red as well. you two just left and prayed to whoever was listening you’d make it to school on time... or else

half way through making it out the door, you and taichi finally caught each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, nearly falling onto each other in the middle of the sidewalk like a bunch of weirdos

“yo! look at our hair!” taichi spluttered out, reaching up to touch your now red hair. you wheezed, trying to not cry from the sheer audacity of the strange situation at hand

“dude, look at your hair! it’s even darker!” you laughed and even though his bright red hair was apart of his identity, taichi couldn’t stop laughing just because he went through it with you

“am i still cool?”

“definitely, even cooler now, i think.”

the laughter died down and taichi wrapped his arm around your shoulder, grinning like there was no tomorrow

“you’re the best. i’m so lucky to have you.”

you suddenly remembered something you didn’t respond to just mere hours ago, and figured it was better late than never

“i like you, too.”

when taichi overcame his visible shock and multiple “are you serious?! don’t play with my feelings like that!” and figuring out you were being honest, he slipped his hand into yours with a visible jump to his step as you two walked to school

even if he wore gloves, his hands were still somewhat stained red from the hair dye that started it all

(“did you do the homework this morning?”)

(“... we had homework?”)

(“oh, taichi...”)

[yesthefandomfreakblr]

G U Y S I’M ONTO SOMETHING

Ares, when gregor isn’t around, has no one. sure luxa and aurora do their best but he just feels like he can’t/shouldn’t be a burden to them or be selfish by dumping all of his problems on them(this is horribly toxic thinking if you experience this GET. HELP. you are NOT a burden and you DESERVE LOVE.)

but back to the sad fictional bat: Ares just has no one. he finds he’s most comfortable alone, although rather lonely... but well, chased to the outskirts to hunt due to ostracizing from his peers, he runs into Ripred doing the same thing and Ares, while apologizing for trespassing finally just breaks.  The gnawer asks what he’s bawling about and it all just comes tumbling out.

After a good long time of just gushing out all the pent up pressure, Ares shifts uncomfortably and apologizes again. He thanks the older rat for listening and being so kind when Ares had done nothing for him. Ripred cuts him off. “Ares you have been invaluable on every quest you’ve been apart of. and even aside from that, you are a friend. I like you actually, you keep your head on your shoulders and out of those prophecies.” there’s more to it but that’s what I write down. Ares just shakes his head. “you’d be the first to think so.”  “dear bat I doubt that, luxa and her flier quite admire you. the boy loves you to pieces. but of course there’s only so much it can do. especially when they’re around so little.” Ares nods. “you are a good friend, Ripred. thank you.” The gnawer almost smiles. “I sure will be.” and leaves the bat bewildered. but with a mixture of fear and hope. Ripred’s tender moments are rare. being around him often could make everything worse. he’d be even MORE ridiculed for associating with a gnawer, and he could just get a whole new layer of abuse added to his plate. or... or maybe Ripred could be his friend? they understood each other to a degree. both ostracized by their peers and alone, abused and depressed. scraping at the bottom. but Ripred didn’t care what anyone else thought, right? He surely wasn’t pining for affection. but... maybe he was a little lonely too.

Ares returns home with a bit of weight lifted off his chest. he’d finally talked about his problems... and hadn’t been ridiculed. he’d been comforted and validated. what a beautiful feeling.

a week or so later, Ares is training in the arena. alone. he was the only bat without a rider and ajax constantly reminded him about the empty space on his shoulders and in his heart. He knew he was top of his class in strength, speed, and near top on agility. but it was never enough. he was always ‘stupid.’ ‘clumsy’ and ‘arrogant.’ whatever. all the flier’s suddenly stop. a gnawer approaches the entrance. It’s Ripred, as per usual to meet with the council and royal family. everyone is wary and Ares ignores him. ajax goes with his bond to greet their guest but the rat brushes them off like last nights stand.

he looks up. “Ares!” he calls “Ares my swift death on dark wings, my epitome of aerodynamics!” The entire arena stops. all eyes on Ares. he felt himself shrink into his fur and flush with embarrassment and rage. the last thing he needed was more attention. especially for this. was this his way of being a friend? humiliating him? Ares, as professionally as possible, coasts down to see what the old rager could want with him.

Ripred just... talks to him. and coaxes ares to talk back. he almost completely ignores vikus and solavet. he even insults ajax to his face, berating and belittling him until the large red flier visibly cowers. that’s his specialty. he attacks ruthlessly and furiously about his abuse towards Ares. and the smaller fliers inferiority to him. Ares literally begs him to stop. the rat is having too much fun. after his meetings Ripred finds Ares again, and even drags him to dinner in the great hall. Ripred can actually be rather charming and kind. and Ares actually talks tenfold what he normally does, speaking in real sentences. 

months go by and the two keep in touch. Ripred visits the flier’s hunting grounds often, and the Arena as well. Ares visits him too. at first ares tries to avoid him, given that the rat is very loud and boastful about his big buff handsome flier friend. calling him pet names and advertising his infinite endeering qualities to any regalian or flier in earshot. 

but Are can’t help but laugh and smile. it honestly feels kinda good to joke with someone and have them care, have the be proud of him. the abuse over it fades and he starts being recognized as the trusted friend of the most dangerous creature in the underland. Ares only gets stronger as he occasionally carries his new friend around and they even did a training session together. no one could deny his impossible strength. Ripred won’t shut up about his incredibly studly bat babe and Ares just gets used to it. he talks more, he laughs more he moves in with ripred’s gang and even has a group of bat friends. but he will always spend his nights in Ripred’s den and hunt with his pack. 

He learns to speak gnawer and knows the deadlands like no bat ever has. Ares befriends all 32 of the gnawers in their possey and they all share a slightly sadistic sense of humor. they laugh and joke together and protect eachother. He heals emotionally and learns to let peoples words roll off his shoulders in a healthy way. and there will always be bad people who are cruel to him but with Ripred’s protection and influence, it becomes less and less. 

Living with the pack Ares gets to know pearlpelt. and they have more in common than they thought. loneliness, abuse, and deep rooted mistrust. Ares becomes a mediator between Ripred and the pup. Ripred lets it happen. as long as Ares helps babysit. Ares adopts pearlpelt full time but forces Ripred to help. there’s arguing there’s fighting but for the pup and future of the underland. and for their unspoken bond. they make it work. With Ares help a huge load is taken off of Ripred and he pushes himself to be more patient and kind.

they train together and talk together and ares even sleeps with the pup to help comfort him. He listens to his trauma. he teaches him rhymes and all about the humans and fliers. the good and the bad. he makes sure pearlpelt won’t blame them for what happened to him. he gets it into his head that his white coat and massive size are a mere coincidence of the double Y chromosome and albanism. Prophecies are dumb. he gets there before twirltongue and helps him see through her deception. Ares, in trying to train the pup to survive, is endlessely patient and affectionate. Pearlpelt will never go a day without someone saying ‘I love you’ or giving him a hug. because he knows what it does to your head. Ripred and Ares actually co-parent the bane. it doesn’t get between them. Ripred and Ares still fly talk, and laugh together. Pearlpelt quickly becomes too big for Ares to carry, but pearlpelt works harder than ever so he can carry his big black friend. Ares brings him human food from Regalia (as well as ripred, can’t forget his bestie) And the bane grows up a lot more stable and a lot more open minded and informed. Pearlpelt will never accept the humans. but he will not fight ares. he even meets luxa. they talk. they hear eachother’s pasts. they feel an understanding. they argue but come to an agreement.  Ripred is always there to jeer and coo over him and Ares does it back. Ares and Ripred still visit regalia once a month for dinner and they bring pearlpelt with them. only after solavet dies of ‘mysterious causes’ all species start to form bonds and a multi city city is built. the dam is rebuilt and the garden of hesperdes is restored. pearlpelt matures and mellows out into the perfect hybrid of his two adopted dads. Aes goes from glossy black to silver and finds it difficult to fly. pearlpelt carries him wherever he wants and often to his own den to play with the heirs to the gnawer throne. ripred a lighter shade, is always with him. you’d thin they were bonded or married by how they smiled and talked or just sat in silence together. they are both less afraid and less lonely.

everything is a little more alright...

[kaiqarker]

off my chest

pairing: xavier plympton x reader

warnings: love confession, smut

summery: on the run from a deranged killer stalking the grounds of camp redwood, you and xavier take shelter in one the cabins. knowing you may not have much time left with each other, secrets are confessed and lead to the two of you making the most of your brief moment of safety.

“YOU WERE RIGHT,” xavier admitted through labored breaths, dirt streaking his vibrant jacket and small cuts gracing his skin from running into numerous branches. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”

she didn’t look much better, sweat sticking to her skin and her hair a bit disheveled from the whole running for their lives ordeal. they were separated from the rest of the group, and quite frankly she didn’t know who was even still alive or not, but she hoped they had gotten to someplace relatively safe like her and xavier.

after aimlessly running through the woods, they stumbled upon the boys cabin, which was luckily vacant of any of the lurking murderers they were trying to get away from. so they locked the door behind them, xavier pushing the couch against the door for good measure, and hoped that they would be safe — even if it was for a few moments.

“no, really? going to newly reopened camp that is the home of one of the most gruesome massacres of all time wasn’t a good idea?” the girl replied bitterly, staring at the barricaded door for a few seconds before allowing herself to sit down on one the beds.

she wiped the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her manicured hand, glancing down to see her once freshly white sneakers were now stained with mud. she didn’t need a mirror to understand she wasn’t necessarily looking her best.

the bed shifted with xavier’s weight as he settled down beside her, his styled blonde hair somehow still looking perfect despite everything they had been through tonight. “no one forced you to come.”

“please. when you found out about this you begged me to come with, said i’d be missing out on so much fun. well, guess what, xavier? my idea of fun isn’t getting murdered.”

“how was i supposed to know this would happen?! i just... wanted to get away. from everything.”

“right. because your pristine life as an aerobics intructer is so stressful.”

he looked over at her, eyeing her still heaving chest and the angry expression coating her lovely face. she appeared to be mad at him, lips tucked into a thin line and fierce eyes staring forward, but xavier knew this was just something to distract herself from showing how really scared she was.

the blonde sighed, and quieted down for a moment. he didn’t want to argue with her. not now. not when with one wrong move he could end up killing them if he made one more stupid decision. he couldn’t let her die.

she felt a slight sensation on top of her head and craned her neck to see that xavier had reached over and pulled a stray leaf out of her hair. she studied the gentle way he grasped it and how he let it float down and land on the floor beneath their feet. her eyes found his and her expression softened.

“this... this isn’t actually your fault, you know?” she whispered to him, stunned for the millionth time by how blue his eyes were.

“yes it is. i brought us all here. i was stupid and selfish and naive.”

“you’re not. xavier i-“

“no, no. stop,” he interrupted, voice trembling slightly from the emotion stirring up within him. it was definitely a rare sight to see; he wasn’t plastering around his cocky smirk or showing off the mischievous glints found within his eyes.

“i have something to tell you. something that i haven’t told anyone else. not chet or montana or ray or brooke.”

she reached over and clasped one of his hands lying limp on his lap, feeling the smooth skin and the warmth radiating from it. “you can tell me anything.”

“the reason- why i wanted to get away so bad is because i... got mixed up in some bad business. with some very powerful people. and i thought if i took this councilor job, and you and everyone else came with me, i could forget all about it. just spend a carefree summer with my friends, not thinking about my mistakes. i was stupid to think they wouldn’t follow me here.”

“that guy. who was killed outside the showers. is he one of the people you were running away from?”

“yeah. he’s, uh, a porn producer.”

her eyes widen in disbelief at his answer, mouth agape. “you-you were in a porno?”

he nods hesitantly, expecting her to yank her her hand back and stare at him in disgust. instead, she does something he doesn’t expect: she laughs. not a tiny giggle or a breathy laugh, a full on burst of uncontrollable laughter that made her head fall back and her lips stretch into a amused grin.

“you think this is funny?” his says as he watches her slowly calm down, his lips twitching because seeing the humor in her eyes makes him want to smile and let out a chuckle of his own.

“oh, i think this is hilarious.”

“you know what? quiet down before someone hears us. i can’t believe you.” xavier shakes his head and playfully pushes her hand off of him, pretending he wanted nothing to do with her now.

“sorry. i’ll stop, i’ll stop,” she breathes out, smiling as her laughter finally dies down. “i just can’t believe it. you were in a porno. was it just you and some girl?”

“it was a gay porno.” he admitted with a scrunched up face.

“wait. you’re gay?”

“no! no, i’m not. which makes it worse.”

“you mean which makes it funnier.”

“we could die any minute and you choose to spend your potentially last minutes with me by making fun of me?”

“been doing that since the day we met. why change it up now?” she asks, feeling a thousand times better than when they first arrived at this place. xavier always seemed to have that effect. he always made her feel better.

he finally lets himself smile at that remark, turning to face her once more. she gazed right back at him, knowing that there was no one else she’d rather be here with. if she was going to die tonight, then she was glad it was going to be with him.

xavier’s grin slowly fades away as their shared look turns into something more intense. his eyes drift from hers for a moment, memorizing how stray stands of hair framed her defined face. how flushed her cheeks were from all the sprinting. how adorable the upturn of her nose was. how pink and kissable her parted lips were.

“you know, since we are getting things off our chest...” he murmured breathlessly, leaning down towards her.

“yeah?”

“i’ve kind of always been in love with you.”

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, processing his words, which makes xavier’s heart start to patter anxiously in his chest. he starts to wonder if he ruined the moment, if it was the wrong thing to say at a time like this, if-

his whirlwind thoughts are put to a stop by her intrusive set of lips colliding with his own. he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, shocked to see her eyelids fluttering shut and her mouth molded to his. he didn’t believe this was actually happening, but the warmth and softness of her lips pulled him out of his bewildered state and allowed him to finally kiss her back.

immediately, he was addicted to the sensation, taking control of the kiss and using his hands to pull her body closer to his, tilting his head to deepen it further. she felt his fingers wrap around the sides of her waist, holding her securely in place while she herself got lost in the magnificent train wreck that was xavier plympton.

when they break apart for air, she can feel his hot breath fanning her face, eyelids cracking open to see his beautiful face. “i’m kind of in love you too.”

“of course you are. i’m irresistible,” he utters confidently as if seconds beforehand he wasn’t a nervous wreck, which makes her shake her head, amused.

“i was wondering where my cocky prick went.”

“i’m never far, baby.” he winked, encouraging her to giggle softly against his frame, hands grabbing ahold of his jacket.

“i thought chef bertie was your baby.” the girl reminds him, feeling his hands venture from her waist to the end of her shirt, clutching of the fabric.

“you know you’re my number one girl,” xavier utters against her lips, going in for another quick kiss before pulling away from her again. “now, why don’t you let me take this off your chest.”

“we could die any minute and you choose to spend your time trying to get me out of my clothes?” she quoted him, smiling the tiniest bit.

“been trying to since the day we met. why change it up now?” he played along, pushing the piece of clothing up further and revealing more skin until she took over for him and pulled her top all the way off.

she felt his eyes trained on her bra-clutched chest as she pushed his lavender-colored jacket over his shoulders. he didn’t waste any more of their fleeting time, guiding her gently onto her back and crawling on top of her. her legs parted for him, allowing xavier to slot himself between them effortlessly.

fingers carded through his soft and silky hair when she kissed him once more, barely comprehending how one of his hands slid up her thigh and under her skirt. although she sure did notice when she felt his fingertips press against her covered core, gasping and allowing xavier to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue into her mouth. his pants became tighter as he understood the fabric covering her cunt was already damp.

becoming impatient, the blonde diverts his attention to getting her panties off and down her legs. he sits up slightly, breaking the collision of their lips and hooking his fingers into the elastic of her underwear. while he yanked them off her body, he sensed her mouth move to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there lightly, a soft moan escaping him from the contact.

“i don’t think we should do this if you can’t keep quiet,” she whispers into his ear, making him shiver from the sensation.

he eventually smirks from her attempt at teasing him, his hands working on getting his pants undone. “trust me, princess, i’m not the one who’s going to have trouble keeping quiet.”

“is that so?”

he hums in confirmation, positioning himself on top of her again. she helps him slide his pants and underwear down enough so his cock could be let out of its confinements, slightly disappointed they didn’t have enough time to get fully undressed and really make the most of their first time together. but, knowing xavier, she was sure he wouldn’t leave her unsatisfied by this quick encounter.

the girl underneath of him shudders when she feels him line himself up with her entrance, her arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him impossibly closer to her. her heart is beating wildly, but in sync with the boy on top of her, and all of the unsureness about taking such a risk in this dangerous situation faded away when their eyes locked once more. she wanted this. he wanted this.

xavier watched her facial expression carefully when he slowly began to guide his hard and fully erect cock inside of her, searching for any sign of discomfort that would tell him to stop. he only ended up finding her glowing eyes trained on him and the sight of her lips parting to suck in a deep breath. he had trouble keeping his breathing steady himself, the warmth and tightness of her walls squeezing his shaft affecting him immensely. he had to bite his lip to keep from emitting another pleased moan.

“you feel so fucking good,” she murmurs once he is finally all the way in, the helpless tone found in her voice spurring him on more.

“you feel even better,” he sighs, burying his head in the crook of her neck while he started up a slow pace, hips gently knocking against hers.

her nails begin to sink into the flesh of his shoulders that his muscle tank didn’t cover up, back arching up off of the thin mattress in an attempt to deepen his thrusts that were starting to spark waves of pleasure through her body. mindlessly, she allows her head to get buried more in the plush pillow and for her legs to spread wider for him, knowing she could never get enough of this.

“faster, please.”

“are you begging?”

she could feel his smirk against her skin, the hand that hooked her leg over his waist tightening its hold on her. “if that’s what you want to call it. just fuck me harder.”

he obliges to her wishes, the steady and slow pace of his movements picking up speed and force. his hips crashed into hers, which were attempting to match his thrusts, and it automatically gets harder for both of them to remain quiet. xavier sinks his teeth into the spot where her neck and shoulder meet, biting hard enough to make a mark and muffling the groan that would have echoed throughout the cabin. she settled for digging further into his shoulders with her nails, which soon turned into scratching as she dragged them down his back.

tiny whimpers escaped her, which she somehow kept relatively low, his name sometimes coming out in a desperate whisper as well. apart of him was relieved that they both managed to keep it down, not attracting anyone from the outside, but then there was this other part of him. and that other part was curious what it would be like if he purposely made her moan a little louder, if he made her so intoxicated by him that she’d chant his name like a prayer.

he pulls back from her neck, hovering his face over her hers, feeling her chest heave against his from their shallow breathing. she looked as if she was struggling to contain herself, lips quivering and eyes holding a subtle look of strain. maybe it was the simple sight of her, maybe it was how good she felt wrapped around him, or maybe it was the temptation to take this risk further, but whatever it was, it encouraged him to pull both of legs up further up his waist, changing the angle perfectly so he rammed into that one spot that made her lose any form of common sense.

“xavier-“ she protests, panic twisting her features as an overload of pleasure suddenly comes over her. “i-i can’t-“

“you can. come on. show me how much you’re enjoying this. let everyone left alive at this camp hear. i don’t fucking care anymore.”

“fuck you. this isn’t fair.” she whines, eyes screwing shut. she was seconds away from moaning loudly and surrendering to him in their unspoken game.

“sorry, babe, but i’m not dying without hearing you scream my name as you fall apart.” he murmurs back to her, pace still unrelenting. he even intensifies her pleasure more by snaking a hand between her thighs, applying pressure to her clit.

that was when she couldn’t control herself anymore, letting out a choked cry, which was significantly higher in volume. the girl clutched xavier tighter, sensing the pressure that had been building up within her lower abdomen grow more restless. she trembled, muscles straining underneath her smooth skin while she arched her back, needing to be even closer to him. all the while xavier watched, panting and enjoying the view of the love of his life losing any bit of self control left because of him.

“I’m so close,” she whimpers against his lips, their foreheads coming together as xavier focused fully on his harsh movements.

“go ahead, baby. cum around my cock.” xavier encourages, planting soft kisses along her jawline lovingly. it was getting unbelievably harder to control himself, the way her body felt pressed against his, closer than ever before, wrecking him completely; he was on the brink as well.

with a few more snaps of his hips and radical motions along her clit, she came undone, intense pleasure shooting through her. her toes curled while the rest of her body convulsed underneath him, a loud curse passing her lips before he rendered her speechless. her mouth was left ajar, stunned by the intensity and the blissful feeling of it slowly fading away. the experience was nothing short of extraordinary; he was extraordinary.

xavier exclaimed a rather strident moan himself, the sensation of her pussy pulsating around his dick, hugging him euphorically, sending him right to the edge. he even moves to pull out, knowing he was seconds away from orgasming, but is stopped suddenly by her legs clamping around his waist. this time xavier is the one seeming panic and confused and overwhelmed, looking down to search her decomposed face for answers.

she stares back up with eyes that glimmer of passion, a mixture of lust and love, and he swears he’s never seen anything so compelling. “if we’re risking everything, you might as well cum inside of me.”

“i love you so much.” he cries out before muffling any noise by connecting his lips with hers once more, his impending orgasm finally taking over. she feels his release engulf her insides, mixing with her own, something within itself that makes her feel complete.

he stills after a few more lazy thrusts, collapsing on top of her, the exhaustion of this stressful night catching up with both of them. she raises a hand to play with the few strands of hair that fell out of place during this whole ordeal, calm and comforted in this moment they knew was fleeting.

“is it bad?” he questions after propping his head up, blue eyes sparkling in moonlight- lit room.

she knew he was referring to his hair he spent too much time on in the morning, but decides to let her humor take over. “yes, the sex is bad. this isn’t going to work out.”

“you’re so mean to me,” he mutters, shaking his head from side to side with the faintest hint of a smile. “even after i gave you the best sex of your life.”

she opens her mouth to rebuttal, but abrupt pounding on the cabin door halts any words that would have made their way into xavier’s attentive ears. the boy on top of her jumps up at the sound, sending a frantic glance to the barricaded entrance, watching the wooden door vibrate with each hard knock. she sits up as well, ignoring the liquid mess that slipped from the apex of her thighs and stained the sheets.

another set of persistent collisions, appearing heavier and harsher as they used more of their strength to try to break through, was what sent them both into action. xavier hurriedly throws y/n her shirt before yanking his pants back up his legs, shuffling around a bit to fully get them around his waist and buttoned once more. she has her top back over her head in an instant, rushing to her feet and using her discarded panties to quickly clean herself up.

“that can’t be good,” she whispers, fear altering her tone once more.

“i know. let’s get out of here.” he grabs her hand, leading her to the back of the cabin.

seconds later breeze was flowing through an open window, the curtain fluttering as if it was waving in the pair’s dismissal. and they went on, knowing that whatever they faced, they wouldn’t face it alone.

[captainrexisboo]

In A Single Night Chp 2

Here it is ❤️❤️❤️ Link to Previous Chapter (in case you missed it)

I’m not gonna say anything about it, except no warnings apply ✨

Tag list in the replies, please let me know if you would like to be tagged, and All Comments Are Welcome!!! Enjoy my lads, ladies, and lovers!!!

Edit: link to chp3 🥰

You banged on the thick, almost black oak door, knowing he was awake despite the hour, “Commander! Commander, please, open up, we need to-”

“Y/N!” he hisses through grit teeth as he swings open the door, still fully clothed as you expected in the same white uniform Rex was donning earlier that night, with deep bags under his eyes and dark curls sticking up, out of their usual well-kept place from running his fingers through it too many times, “The Captain isn’t here, so please, my dearest liege, if you could keep it down-”

“Of course Rex isn’t here, Cody, he’s out galavanting in the woods without a thing to cover his backside except blasted blond fur,” you seethed as you pushed through into the dim candlelit office, your now-tattered cloak trailing behind you, “How long has your brother been a werewolf?”

He stared at you, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a tight grimace as if you had sprouted two heads. His gaze switched from you to glare defeatedly at the full moon that hung outside his window, illuminating the room even more than the candles. He shook his head, stiffening his back as he brought up two fingers to rub at his scarred brow, “My...he...walk me through this. What happened?”

You shuffled on your feet, clenching and unclenching your fists as you cleared your throat, “Rex...wanted to see me tonight. During patrol. And before I could reach him, he…”

Good lords, you sounded mad. You bit your lip as you stopped talking, not finding it in you to continue, tearing your gaze off the floor to look up into Cody’s signature deadpan expression, as if you could project into his mind exactly what you had seen. He stood straight, hands folded behind him, tired eyes still actively surveying your form, precise and calculating. At your extended pause and fidgeting shoulders, he clicked his tongue, “You know, canoodling with any soldier, regardless of rank, isn’t allowed while they’re on duty, your grace.”

“Cody!” you whined, stepping up to him to place your hands on his shoulders, “This isn’t about that! It’s about Rex! He turned into a-”

“I know,” Cody sighed, gently taking hold of your wrists and pulling them off of him, “I had suspected this, I was going to prepare for it, but-”

He groaned gruffly, letting go of a wrist to scrub a hand over his face and covering an obscene yawn, “I guess I lost track of the moon cycle.”

You could only stand there, mouth agape. You pulled your other wrist away, a bewildered scoff exhaling from you, “You knew!?”

He nodded, his exhausted demeanor making his stoic expression all the more bored, as if this was just another debriefing of the low level muggings that took place over the weekend.

“Why didn’t either of you say anything!”

“What makes you think he knew?”

You paused, the question putting you through such a loop you momentarily forgot you were in hysterics. You shook your head, furrowing your brows low as you groaned, “Well why wouldn’t he know?”

“Well, this is a quite a recent development-”

“Commander!” you couldn’t stand the idle chatter that he seemed intent on keeping, “I would love to be casual and catch up some other time, but right now your brother, my love, our Captain is out there somewhere, going crazy with bloodlust-”

“As opposed to what other type of lust?”

“Cody!” you screeched, not bothering if the entire castle heard you two bickering at this point. The infuriating smirk he wore made you want to tear your hair out. You stamped your foot and pointed to the blanket of tall, thick trees that stretched across the starlit landscape outside his office window, “You need to go out there, right now, find your brother, and throw his clothes at him!”

You never thought you’d see the day that Commander Cody Fett, of the Republic Aegis, laughed. Not his normal, brief, smug chuckle that made all the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes go weak in the knees and swoon under his cool facade. No, this laugh was deep, and building, he was taking large breaths in between, clutching at his diaphragm, until he was howling not unlike his brother, barely an hour ago. 

It made you furious.

You ground your molars, tightening your fists, nearly twitching with your anger. You could feel your cheek stitch up as your eyes narrowed, a thrumming growl coming from the back of your throat. You let out a huff, hands flying up to the dark metal clasp of your cloak, a beautiful thick charcoal wool with royal blue velvet on the bottom hem. It was a gift from Rex about a year ago, after coming home from a diplomatic visit, and it immediately became your favorite thing to wear. You kept it clean, and stored it safely in the warmer months- now it was dirt smeared, ripped in odd places from falling onto scraggly rock, and torn from where his claws had pierced next to your head...and you were noticing now, his back claws had pierced the fabric that had bunched around your knees as well when he had you pinned underneath him. 

As you were inspecting your cloak with puffy red eyes, Cody was coming down from his bout of hysterics. You could hear his weakening breath, and you held out the cloak, not wanting to meet the taunt you were sure he held in his stare, “He attacked me. Pinned me to the road before running off…”

Cody grunted low, clearing his throat of the remaining bit of humor as he took the thick, warm material in his hands. He breathed deeply as his fingers traced the irregular tears, blinking heavily as he squeezed the bridge of his nose, coming down from madness as he looked back up at you. You refused to look at him, but his tone was surprisingly somber, “Look, I’m sorry, truly. As you can imagine, I’m very tired...you walk in here telling me my brother is a werewolf, and that the solution is to throw clothes at him? Where did you even hear such a thing?”

You finally looked up at him, expecting more brutish teasing, but instead finding a morbid, genuine curiosity. You clenched your jaw, taking a shuddering breath, “My grandmere...she lost her suitor to the soul of the beast. I didn’t really think about it before, but it makes sense now.”

Your eyes stung with the realization, voice choking with emotion, but no tears were able to fall. You looked at Cody, he was leaning against his desk, cloak folded beside him and listening intently. His eyes were focused on you as he folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head towards you in a silent request to continue. You cleared your throat of emotion, speaking low, “She was already with child at the time, my mother- his daughter, but… only the purest love can change the wolf back to a human. Giving them clothes, leading them back to a warm bed. Well, it turns out he didn’t love my grandmother like she thought. He attacked her, giving her claw marks down her shoulder and over her chest. The only reason she lived was because her father and his hunting party followed her with their rifles, driving away the monster.” 

You paused, a quaking breath wracking through you. Your throat was tight, and you were starting to get dizzy from the irregular breathing, “She lived in heartache for the rest of her days, the scar a reminder she wasn’t enough. Whatever love she thought she had was an illusion- he was only marrying her out of a sense of duty to the child he sired. I’m obviously not pregnant, Cody, I don’t even have that delusion to give me strength-”

“You want me to go out there instead of you,” Cody interrupted, piecing together your last bit of thought for you so you could focus on your breathing, “Because you’re unsure of his love towards you?”

You nodded, choking back dry, sobbing breaths, “I mean. What’s more pure love than the bond between brothers? He hasn’t even asked for my hand yet.”

“If you weren’t in the middle of a panic attack, I’d start laughing again,” Cody sighed heavy. You opened your mouth about to scold him again, when he held up a hand, “I knew he was asking you to meet with him tonight. He’s been hounding me all damn week for my opinions on ‘Will Y/N prefer this coat on me, or my cape? What time of day should it be? Does this sound okay as an opener?’ on and on and on- meanwhile there’s a war about to brew if Skywalker can’t sit still for a moment, Kenobi’s insistent on visiting with daily tea no matter how much I have on my plate, I have troops to train, and I had to research on  how to keep Rex’s wolf in check- and you know how well that faired- don’t even get me started on the pot that Sir Palpatine is intent on stirring-“

“Commander.”

He looked to you, snapped out from his exhausted ramblings at your clipped tone. You waved your wrist loosely, asking him to get to the damned point already. He coughed lightly, “Ah, right.”

He stood straight again, wrapping his hands behind his back and clearing his throat, “Your graciousness Y/N L/N of the Established Republic, Captain Rex Fett of the Republic Aegis was planning, tonight, to ask for your hand in marriage. Under the light of the full moon, ‘because the atmosphere would be just perfect’-”

You tuned out right as the word marriage was spoken. Cody’s voice rang clear in your head, the word turning itself over and over in your mind.

Your love. Your dearest Captain. Him. Rex. He was going to propose tonight. Tonight was supposed to be wonderful, given celebration, filled with purely blissful feelings and warmth- he would’ve proposed tonight. You would’ve stolen him away from his “break on patrol” and taken him back to your quarters for proper celebration, expected protocol be damned. You were supposed to be in the arms of your love right now, letting each other’s heartbeats lull each other to sleep as you shared lazy kisses of simple adoration, but instead you were listening to his sleep deprived twin wail on and on about something or other that didn’t really matter right now because he would’ve proposed.

But instead. He attacked you with gnashing fangs and a snarling maw. He held you beneath him, claws spearing the rock by your head, intent on having his slaughterous way with your flesh-

But instead. You whispered his name. A broken plea. A pathetic whimper… and he heard you. He listened. He threw himself off of you and didn’t look back. It wasn’t the beast- Rex had heard you.

Your love was still in there. 

And you were going to be the one to free him.

[companionjones]

Mine Now

Requested by: Anon

Request: Okay so I saw this somewhere and now it’s like all I can think about. It’s a Criminal Minds x reader where they think R is the unsub, starts trying to break them R is cocky until they touch a sensitive nerve then R breaks but still doesn’t admit because well, they did not do it. Kinda like that one episode with Morgan in the first season It can be a pairing with whoever you want. Thank you!

Fandom: Criminal Minds (circa. season 7 I think)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader, Reader x OC I guess

Warnings: A reference to cursing, but no actual cursing

*******

    “Why don’t you guys just give up?” you groaned to the mirror in front of you. I’ve been here for five hours, and my story hasn’t changed. That means I’m telling the truth, right?”

    On the other side of the glass, Morgan argued your case. “They’re right. They haven’t confessed to anything since we brought them in. Are we sure we have the right person?”

    “We have to,” rebutted Emily, “All of the victims were ride-sharers. They were all summoned to Y/n’s house, and that’s the last place the victims were heard from. Y/n has to be our unsub.”

    “I’m going back in,” announced Hotch. His gaze was set on the interrogation room.

    Rossi shook his head. “Come on, Hotch. Give it a break. We’ll send someone else in there to throw Y/n off...How about Reid?”

    The younger agent glanced up from the report he was reading, clearly taken off guard. “What?”

    Hotch dismissed the offer. “No. I think, at this point, we’ll have better luck with someone Y/n is familiar with.”

    “Hey! Welcome back!” you greeted in a way-too-chipper fashion. “Decided to take another shot at me?”

    Hotchner didn’t respond to your question. He took the seat in front of you. “Let’s entertain the idea, for a moment, that you didn’t do it. Can you think of anyone who would? Someone who has access to your ride-sharing accounts and your home?”

    You were quiet for just a second longer than normal. “I have no clue. Isn’t it your job to catch the--what do you guys call them?--the unsub?”

    Hotch was just starting his response when the door opened.

    “Y/n, why didn’t you call me?” the man at the door inquired.

    “Who are you?” Hotch asked the obvious question.

    The mystery man was affronted. “I am Y/n’s lawyer. Now I’m assuming none of you feds bothered to check my client’s local traffic cameras, because the footage clearly shows every victim’s car driving away from my client’s home. Maybe, just maybe, the victims logged out of their ride-sharing accounts. Did that ever occur to you?”

    The lawyer took over the room. He made it impossible to talk over him. Yet, Hotch barely paid attention to him. Hotch’s eyes were on you.

    As soon as the lawyer entered, you shut down. You were no longer as outspoken as Hotch was used to. You wouldn’t even look up. You kept your eyes glued to the interrogation table.

    Before Hotch could argue, the lawyer announced, “I’m taking Y/n with me. You feds can have them back if you ever get any actual evidence against them.”

    The lawyer stormed out of the interrogation room with you in tow.

    Meanwhile, in the observation room, Morgan made a phone call. “Garcia, why didn’t we know that cameras in the area picked up the victims’ cars leaving L/n’s house?”

    “What?” the technical analyst was flabbergasted, offended even. “Honey, who do you take me for? I checked the footage of every camera within three blocks. And let me tell you, nothing--What in the world?” All the time she had been talking, Garcia had been typing away at her keyboard. Just because she was good at her job, she was rechecking the cameras in question. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she gawked at her computer screen.

    Derek was feeling left out. “What? What is it?”

    “Well, the cameras show the cars leaving Y/n’s house now, but they didn’t before,” Garcia explained. “That wouldn’t make any sense...unless...hang on...”

    Morgan heard more frantic typing over the phone.

    “Yep. I was right. This footage was doctored,” informed the technical analyst, “Someone replaced the old footage with new footage of the cars driving away.”

    Morgan chuckled, “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

    “Don’t worry,” Garcia seductively reassured, “You can make it up to me when you get home.”

    “You know I will,” Derek played along before hanging up. “Hotch, the lawyer was lying,” Morgan informed his boss as Hotch entered the room. “The footage he was talking about was altered.”

    Rossi wondered, “Who could it have been altered by?”

    “Guys, you aren’t going to believe this.” JJ came bursting into the room.

    Apparently, the security cameras out side the police station caught you and your lawyer kissing before getting into his car to leave.

    “So, Y/n has an accomplice. Maybe he’s the guy who hacked into the cameras on Y/n’s street while we had Y/n here,” assumed Derek.

    “I agree with him doing the hacking,” Hotch admitted, “My guess is it’s either the lawyer himself, or somebody working for him. However, I don’t think he’s Y/n’s accomplice. I believe he has more to do with this than Y/n does.”

    Reid was as intrigued as the rest of the team. “What makes you think that?”

    Hotch asked, “Did any of you see how Y/n responded when he walked into the room?”

    JJ was the first to respond. “No, all of my attention was on the idiot in a suit that wouldn’t let you get a word in.”

    The rest of the team seemed to agree with the blonde agent.

    “Well, as soon as he showed up, Y/n completely shut down,” explained Hotch, “They seemed entirely submissive to him, and even frightened. I believe our unsub is the lawyer.”

    Rossi inquired, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go catch the guy!”

    “We shouldn’t have let them go,” Hotch rebuked, “Now we don’t know where they are.”

    “Excuse me?” a lower-level detective entered the room and informed the team, “We got a strange call. They said they were the suspect that was just here, they told us to trace the call, and they haven’t spoken since.”

    Hotch was immediately on high alert. “That’s Y/n telling us where they are. You have their location?” he asked the detective.

    The detective nodded and read an address from a piece of paper. “Alright, let’s go,” Hotch began to follow most of the team out of the room, but Rossi stopped him.

    “Hotch, are you sure about this?” he questioned. “This may well be a trap that both the lawyer and Y/n set up.”

    The lead agent shook his head. “I don’t think so, Rossi. The body language I saw...it’s not something you can fake.

    “Whoa there,” David looked Aaron over. “That wouldn’t be infatuation I’m seeing, would it?”

    Hotch returned eye contact with Rossi so Rossi wouldn’t think he was faking anything...which Aaron definitely wasn’t...probably. “You know it isn’t. I barely know this person.”

    “That’s right,” confirmed Rossi. “Now you just need to make sure you don’t forget that.”

    Hotchner didn’t spare Rossi another glance as he exited.

    The ride to the address, which Garcia snooped out to be the lawyer’s (your boyfriend’s) house, was quiet. Everyone had time to think, including a certain supervisory special agent, whose mind was set on his feelings for you.

    Peacefulness would prove to be a true comfort because once the BAU arrived, the situation was thrown into chaos. As the SUVs pulled up, gunshots sounded from inside the residence. The team, as orderly as they could, rushed from their cars and toward the home. When they got through the door, they saw you and the lawyer. The lawyer had a gun to your throat.

    “Don’t do anything stupid,” warned Morgan.

    JJ ordered, “Put the gun down!”

    “Oh, good,” your tone was disproportionately relieved in the face of your condition, “You got my phone call.” Your eyes were on Aaron in particular.

    The lawyer started to ramble. “It’s all your fault,” he was talking to you. “You just had to be taken in by the cops. We had a good thing going, you and I. You gave me no other choice other than to pin it on you when you were stupid enough to practically turn yourself in. I even tried to give you the easy way out by taking you back home and ending you myself. Then, you go and call the FBI. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you love them more than me at this point.”

    “Yeah, I think it’s safe to say that, too.” You laughed without an once of humor involved. “You tricked me into being with you in college and roped into your psychopathic life. I’m done being too afraid of you to say anything.”

    The lawyer tightened his grip on you and the gun dug further into your neck. “I liked you better when you didn’t talk at all.”

    “You don’t have the authority to say that,” Hotch suddenly argued. “They’re not yours anymore.”

    You gaze toward Hotch changed.

    Hotch looked right at you when he finished, “They’re mine now.”

    Despite your position, your eye brows raised in surprise.

    “What did you just say?” the lawyer dared Hotch to repeat himself.

    The leader did so without hesitance. “I said Y/n is mine. Even after spending so little time in the interrogation room together, I convinced them to choose me over you.”

    “Shut up,” the lawyer gritted out.

    Hotch continued, “You must be pretty inconsequential for it to be so easy for me to--”

    “Shut up!” exploded the lawyer. In his fury, he took his gun off your neck and pointed it at Hotchner..

    As soon as he did that, the whole team shot him down, including Aaron.

    A string of relieved, yet also very bewildered curses left your mouth as you crouched down to the ground before your knees buckled. You were less than a foot from you dead boyfriend’s body.

    Hotch ignored everything else and went to you first. “Come on,” he invited, “Let’s get you out of here.”

    The next time you spoke, you and Hotch were sitting facing out the back of an ambulances. “So, how much time in prison am I looking at?” you wondered aloud to the FBI agent next to you.

    He shrugged, “None, most likely. You were under duress the whole relationship, and from what I can tell, you had nothing to do with what he was actually doing. I’ll give you the number of a good lawyer I know. She should be able to get you out of this without jail time.”

    “It just doesn’t seem fair,” you agonized, “I shouldn’t get to just walk away.”

    Hotch turned his gaze toward you. “If it’s any consolation, it’s not going to be that easy. You’re going to carry this with you the rest of your life. I’ll give you the numbers of some therapists I know, too. It helps to talk about all this.” He handed you his business card.

    “Wow. I should’ve known the FBI agent would be connected,” you joked softly. Then, you turned it over.

    Aaron’s personal number was on the back. “And if you ever want to talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll-I’ll be here.”

    “Thank you,” your gentle, tired voice remarked. “I’ll take you up on that, Agent Hotchner.”

    “Aaron, please,” he assured.

    You smiled, “Aaron.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that hear and reblog if you liked it! If you would like to read more, I have more fics on Criminal Minds over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you. <3 <3 <3

[sophisticated-creepy]

Daybreak was bright, crisp, and exhilarating, Lola feeling every fiber of her being humming with excitement as the brisk autumn sun kissed her face. She was inspired and playful, eager to attack the morning as she initiated day one of her research plans. The more she thought about the Hobblin’ Goblin for her story, the more she realized she didn’t know the essentials to his origins. She was completely attached to the idea of him being her “Mr. Goblin”, the imaginary friend and childhood companion, and never dove deeper into why he played his pranks, only that he did, and therefore, negated any notion for further investigation. He simply existed, and her imagination conceived the rest. Even Raphael, she discovered over breakfast, wasn’t fully aware of the iconic legend’s origins, and he was a history Professor.

“I guess I don’t know him as intimately as I thought,” she said, stunned to the awakening of her own ignorance regarding the goblin.

“Don’t feel badly,” Raphael had comforted. “I have no doubt you’ll turn this story of yours into an adventure yet.”

Taking her beloved’s advice to heart, Lola got into the proper mindset for delving into the task of research. Her deadline was fast approaching, and she wanted to make as much headway as possible in gathering her facts before putting pen to paper. Five hundred words held the capability to be irrevocably profound. This challenge was an opportunity to showcase depth instead of fluff, so today was all business, strictly pounding the streets for information, putting in the hard work of sleuthing, deducing, and discovering what exactly made the Hobblin’ Goblin tick.

Since the town was saturated in claims of the goblin’s mischief, Lola decided that she would first get as many personal testimonies from the victims of these pranks as possible. Then, upon more research, she would be able to see what connections in claims could help in unlocking the mystery of the Hobblin’ Goblin, allowing her assignment to look into the character of the people affected by the imp, and give her plot heart. Her own opinions were too biased in a light-hearted, flouncy sort of parody she perceived of the goblin’s personality, and while in some cases that may translate well in a fairytale aspect of playful misdemeanors, Lola wanted substance, something tangible to pull in the judges’ interests. As she gathered enough information, she would know in which direction to craft her words.

One such person she wanted to interview first was her former retail manager Stacy. Lola had spent a sizeable amount of time as an associate of the boutique Lotions and Potions, and had a few experiences of her own in her pocket to pull from if need be, but Stacy swore up and down that the place was actively haunted, sharing her stories daily of what went bump in the night. Stacy tended to lean on the side of over-exaggeration, but Lola wouldn’t discount any leads if the potential to find a nugget of inspiration rested somewhere in the spinning of a yarn, so onwards confidently she marched, notebook in one hand, coffee in the other, and entered the establishment filled with buttermilk and bubble bath.

The familiar chime sounding as she walked through the door brought a smile to her face, however, seeing Stacy on her hands and knees in front of a cabinet of decorative glass bottles had her frowning. A clumping of paper towels and a wastebasket at an elbow told Lola that, at least, nothing dire had happened.

“Do you need some help?” Lola asked, setting her belongings on the checkout counter as she fully entered the store. Stacy glanced up from her position, giving her head a slight shake, crookedly smiling at the former employee.

“You don’t work here anymore, Lola, it’s no longer your job to help clean up spills,” Stacy remarked, carefully scooping up a glob of lavender scented lotion mixed with glass shards.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t help out a friend.” Lola went to get the cleaning supplies on hand stowed in a nearby cabinet drawer for emergencies such as these. She handed the bottle of cleaner to Stacy while she herself took up a broom to gather fly away chunks of glass. “I didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time. What happened?”

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary,” Stacy sighed, spraying down the ceramic tiled floor, cleaning up the last of the mess. “A bottle of lotion leapt off the shelf is all.”

“Really? That’s wonderful!” Lola grasped the broom tightly to her chest in delight, a beaming smile lighting up her eyes as she turned excitedly to the woman still crawling on the ground.

“Well, you don’t have to sound so excited about it,” Stacy informed. “I mean, product isn’t cheap, you know. I’ll be out of business if things keep flying off my shelves only to have them break on my floor.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lola frantically apologized. “It’s just…I couldn’t ask for more perfect timing. May I record you?”

“Record me? What…?” Stacy watched flabbergasted as Lola rushed to her purse resting on the checkout counter, rummaging deep within the numerous confines before emerging with a portable tape recorder. Lola immediately rushed back over to her former manager, sliding to her knees, shoving the recorder up close to a bewildered Stacy’s face.

“How did the bottle fly off the shelf? Did you hear a noise prior to it falling, or after? Like, maybe a thumping, dragging sound? Was there an ominous presence before it happened? Did you see a shadow figure? Do you believe this was the work of the Hobblin’ Goblin?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,�� Stacy laughed, rearing back on her haunches, straightening away from Lola’s tape recorder and barrage of strange questions. She couldn’t help but find humor in Lola’s exuberance. “Ease up there, gumshoe. Are you playing detective now, or something?”

“I’m in the middle of an investigation for the creative arts,” Lola declared seriously.

“Sounds important.” Stacy got to her feet, taking with her the wastebasket and cleaning implements, stowing the items behind the main counter, Lola a closely following shadow.

“So, about this incident with the lotion bottle…do you think it was a prank caused by the notoriously reputable Hobblin’ Goblin?” While leaning over the counter, Lola held her tape recorder out to Stacy. “Try to speak slowly and clearly. And enunciate,” she added, demonstrating her instructions in the same manner she wished her friend to speak.

“Why are you asking so many questions about the Hobblin’ Goblin? And why are you using a tape recorder? Do they even make tapes anymore? There is a thing called ‘digital’, you know.”

“First of all Stanley,” Lola began, indicating her tape recorder’s name, “has been with me since the beginning. He was there when I got scared by a bird that one time during an evening stakeout.”

“When did you---?”

“Secondly,” Lola interrupted, “I’m asking these questions because I’m working on a story about the Hobblin’ Goblin. Weird things happen in here all the time, and I wanted to get some of your stories and see if they line up with our local legend and his patterns for hauntings.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Stacy said with a smile. “I’d be glad to talk about the hauntings that happen here. I have plenty of stories to share.”

“Great!” Lola cheered. “Let’s get started with what happened right before I walked in.”

“Oh, that was nothing,” Stacy stated, waving her hand dismissively at the cabinet full of fancy lotions. “That was probably a case in gravity, if I’m honest. The truly weird things come about in the early mornings when I’m trying to get the store ready to open.”

“Tell me about these weird things.” Even with her recorder rolling, Lola still took handwritten notes to capture important details in the moment so as not to miss an idea that could be overlooked when reviewing the tape several hours later.

“For starters, it’s like I’m being watched,” Stacy described. “I can feel eyes on me, observing me, and it’s very unnerving. Sometimes I hear footsteps following behind me, and when I turn around to look, there’s no one there.”

“What kind of footsteps? Is there a limp? Are they heavy set? Quick?”

“More of a gentle shuffling,” Stacy clarified. Lola frowned while marking in her notebook.

“The Hobblin’ Goblin is supposed to walk with a crutch, so his step pattern should be different than ‘normal’ sounding footsteps,” Lola voiced her thought aloud. “Is there anything else out of the ordinary that you can think of? Maybe something that pertains to the goblin himself?”

Stacy thought hard, trying to recall occurrences of the abnormal befalling her boutique. “Sometimes I hear breathing,” she said at last. “And sometimes, things will fly off the shelves. I’ve had the record player cut off on me once or twice as well.”

All of Stacy’s stories sounded more of a casual haunt than specifically that of a trickster, the activity appearing more benign as opposed to mischievous. Lola wanted to stay as open minded and unbiased as possible as she asked her questions to help form her story, but she was honestly hoping for something more lively and extraordinary. “Can you tell me of anything…fun?”

“Fun?” repeated Stacy.

“I mean, has anything…I don’t know…silly…happened in the time you’ve experienced these haunts? The Hobblin’ Goblin is a light hearted trickster, he plays pranks. Do things go missing only to turn up in the most random places? Do the lights flicker as if to say ‘hello’?”

“I had a pen thrown at me,” Stacy shared. “I wouldn’t necessarily call that ‘fun’, but it was the most out of the ordinary incident to have happen to me.”

Lola perked up at hearing the news. “What were you doing when that happened?”

“Actually, I was talking with a customer about the Hobblin’ Goblin a few days ago,” Stacy recalled, the memory of the conversation returning to her mind. “When it happened, I just laughed, figuring he must not have appreciated what it was I had been saying.”

“What did you say?” Lola’s sparkle was back in her eyes as she eagerly listened to what Stacy had to tell.

“I said I thought that he was childish, and that there were a lot more scary things out in the world than an imp who merely liked to play tricks.”

“Oh, Stacy,” Lola admonished, clicking her tongue reprovingly. “That was cruel.”

“How was I being cruel?”

“You said his pranks were childish like it was a bad thing,” Lola pouted. “Goblins are generally mischievous, and you insulted him. I think you might even have gone as far as to hurt his feelings.”

Stacy laughed. “Why am I not surprised that you would defend the Hobblin’ Goblin?” The door chime announced a new arrival walking into the boutique as the friends were sharing a laugh. Stacy looked over Lola’s shoulder to greet the person, smiling friendly as she recognized the mail carrier. “Good morning, Joyce.”

“Good morning, Stacy. Morning, Lola,” the mail woman greeted. “I haven’t seen you in a while, little miss. How’s tricks? Staying out of trouble?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Lola jest. “Hey, Joyce, do you have any stories of being pranked by the Hobblin’ Goblin?” Lola turned her recorder towards the mail woman, prepared to document the newest insights into her subject matter.

“I have no time to deal with pranks,” Joyce stated. “I deliver the mail, and go about my day peacefully. I don’t call upon the Hobblin’ Goblin to play his tricks on me.”

“Meaning, she’s afraid of him,” Stacy snidely commented good humoredly.

“I respect the spirits, Stacy,” Joyce quipped in return with a smile, no malice exchanging between the two friends. “Why are you asking?” she then asked Lola.

“I’m doing research for a story about the goblin, and I wanted him to have some authenticity to his character,” she answered.

“I see. Just be careful where you go poking around,” cautioned Joyce. “You don’t want to inadvertently stir up trouble.”

“Actually, I think she does,” Stacy teased.

“More or less,” Lola agreed. “Thank you for your concern, Joyce. I’ll make sure I’m careful,” she promised.

“You’ve got a good heart, Lola, I’m confident you’ll be safe.” Reaching into her mailbag, she passed a handful of envelopes and a newspaper to Stacy. “You be careful, too.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Stacy defended.

“Yet, but I know you also like to go looking for trouble. Have a nice day, ladies.” With a tip of her hat, and a wink of an eye, Joyce left the boutique.

“I should probably get going, too,” Lola sighed, shutting off her recorder and gathering her belongings. “I was going to see if maybe Mr. Jasons would be interested in sharing some of his stories next. Thanks for letting me bother you.”

“You weren’t bothering me in the slightest,” Stacy assured as she began filing through her mail. “Oh, hey, look at this,” she said, unfolding the newspaper to read. “The old train yard at the Miners Museum made the front page.”

“Neato,” Lola responded automatically, only half listening as she slung her purse over her shoulder, her mind already on her next objective.

“Oh, my God! Someone was attacked!”

“Wait, what?” Stacy’s declaration fully captured Lola’s attention. “What happened?”

Stacy’s eyes furiously scanned the front page, speed reading as much of the information as she could. “The police aren’t sure,” she shared after a breathless pause. “They say a security guard was pushed down while chasing away some kids during the middle of the nightshift rounds. He hit his head on the railway of the old mine train. He has a major concussion and a fractured skull.”

“That’s horrible,” Lola gasped.

“It continues to say that another guard found him in the train yard shortly after he fell. No evidence, however, of the kids, allegedly, playing around the site could be found,” Stacy concluded.

“Poor guy,” Lola sympathized. “Are they sure it was kids mucking about, and that he didn’t just accidently trip?”

“Looks like it,” she validated, continuing to rove the paper. “The second guard states the first guard, the victim, went to go chase away the kids playing by the mineshaft when they saw flashing lights from the security monitors. Here’s a picture of the scene.” Stacy turned the paper around for Lola to see the front page where a photo of the old steam engine and mine were pictured, and with it, just on the outer margins, was the backdrop of the Dead Forest. Lola felt a chill creep down her spine as she looked at the newspaper. Something ominous radiated from the main image, and she squinted critically at the photo, taking the paper to examine the image closer where a shadowed form blending into the tree line, a darker mass of shapes, hovered half-cropped out of frame. The anomaly warranted further investigation, and Lola knew just the person from whom she wanted a second opinion.

“Do you mind if I hang onto this?”

“You can keep it,” Stacy offered. “I don’t read much from the paper anymore.”

“Thanks,” Lola said distantly, her eyes glued on the blurry, pixelated blob. She began to turn and leave when Stacy summoned her back.

“Little witch,” she called. Lola blinked, focusing on Stacy. “Are you planning on flying out of here, or may I have my broom back?”

“Hmm? Oh! My bad,” Lola chuckled, embarrassed. “Sorry about that.” Lola leaned the broomstick she had been holding onto since helping clean up the broken bottle against a cabinet. “I didn’t even realize I’d still been holding it.”

“It’s hard for a witch to hide what comes naturally,” Stacy joked, giving Lola a look that spoke of amusement.

“Thanks for not blowing my cover,” Lola kidded back. “And thanks again for sharing your time and stories with me, I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course. Don’t be a stranger.” The two waved their goodbyes, and Lola stepped out onto the historic cobblestone, once more lost in the picture of her newspaper.

“There’s just something ‘off’ about this picture,” Lola murmured to herself. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m hoping Modesta can.” Folding the newspaper back into its original shape, Lola cradled the bundle into the crook of her arm along with her notebook, her coffee in one hand, and set her confident march towards her friend’s shop of Curios and Oddities.

~~~~~~~~~~

[thekidultlife]

I Want Your Midnights | Lee Jihoon

 Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader

⍟ AU: Idol AU (?)

⍟ Genre: Fluff, a bit of angst on the side

⍟ Warnings: -

⍟ Word Count: 4.3k

⍟ A/N: Alright I know you guys are already sick of me just posting Jihoon fics, but it’s my birthday today, so just...humor me pls. This is almost a self-indulgent fic;;; I’ll be tagging @nrhfzh​ and all those jihoon stans who sent anons last time!!

(this should be posted on Friday which is Leanne’s schedule, but we decided she won’t post anything this week and I won’t post next Moday;;;) 

btw, the song featured here is New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift. I recommend you listen to that song while reading this skkssk  

-Hyeri

It was like an ordinary night. Like any night that you have spent before and will spend more in the future. Nothing extraordinary could be noted in particular between you and Lee Jihoon as you both sat eating in the quiet and privacy of his studio, between out of place candles and almost empty chicken buckets. It was as normal as a night can be.

Yet at the same time, in your own little way, it was also special.

Not being overly expressive with your love for each other, subtle gestures and acts of love screamed more than a thousand words could ever do. It never felt lacking or boring or empty like people thought it would be. In fact, your relationship was an adventure, even barely starting, it had been an uphill battle, and you both knew that. 

As you came back from the comfort room  washing your hands, you made a small scheming grin at your boyfriend who was still gobbling up the last remains of his chicken wing. Taking notice of that, he glanced at you with a smirk of his own. 

"I know that look. What are you planning?" He asked as you sat across him, your arms folded confidently. 

"Are you done eating?" You replied, watching him with a childish cheekiness in you. 

"Well yeah," he dusted off the crumbs on his shirt with an innocent look. "What are you thinking though?" 

With a coquettish smile, you stood up from your seat and went to his side. "Nothing really. Though I do want you to close your eyes and trust me."

Jihoon glanced at you with a bewildered look at first, wondering what you were scheming again this time, but when he saw that mischievous glint in your eyes, he knew it was something he shouldn't really worry about and simply chuckled at you. 

"Fine, but don't do any funny business!" He finally agreed as he closed his eyes and waited for you. 

He could hear you walking away and some wheels rolling. "I've never done any funny business." You denied teasingly. 

He scoffed, even with his eyes closed. "Yeah right. Except that time when you drew on my face when I was drunk!" 

He knew you were making an incredulous expression right now.

"C'mon! I was just trying to see what you would look like with a mustache," you laughed, walking towards him and reaching for his hands. "Don't open your eyes yet. I promise I won't draw a third eye on your forehead this time." 

"Please don't. And please stop sharing meme faces of me to the other members. My reputation as vocal boss is on the line," he retorted back with a toothy grin as you chuckled, guiding him somewhere in the room.

"Can't promise that, Ji. I like my status as the official Lee Jihoon meme distributor," you replied, making him laugh out loud at how ridiculous that title was, before the both of you stopped walking. "You can sit now. I promise there's a chair to catch your butt." 

For a while he feared that there really wasn't any chair for him to sit on, yet when he felt the soft foam of his swivel chair, he relaxed for a bit and sat down. Turning the chair around before you backed away, you allowed him to finally open his eyes. As soon as his sight came back, he was greeted by the image of you sitting in front of the electric keyboard with a soft smile on your lips. 

"I can't promise you my voice or my playing would be up to your standards, but just…it's the thought that counts right?" You suddenly rambled, giggling. 

Blinking, Jihoon was still processing what you were planning until it dawned on him the next second. "Are….are you going to sing me a song?" 

You smiled at him bashfully. "Yeah, though I wish it was a song that I made myself, but I guess I'll put my feelings into somebody else's words for now. So you better listen."

Gazing into your eyes, he could sense the sincerity deep in you. You were someone who wouldn't make an effort just for the sake of being romantic. Everything you do for him meant something and was done with great consideration, he understood that, that's why right now, he could feel his heart swell with emotion. 

A gentle smile on his lips, Jihoon leaned back. "I'll listen. Don't worry, I won't judge." 

“You promised that, okay?” With a sheepish grin, you turned your attention back to the piano and placed your fingers on the correct chords. 

With a small nervous breath, you began playing.

"There's glitter on the floor after the party

Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby…"

Soft chords accentuate your raw and amateur voice. It didn't need to be technically perfect, the genuine emotions which surfaced on your voice reflected beauty in Jihoon's ears. It didn't need to be perfect, but it was real. He always loved that about you. Your brutal honesty, the unapologetic optimism you had. It gives him strength to look forward to another day.

He remembered as he watched your fingers dance on the keys, the first time you met. It wasn't that special. He just saw you on the internet as he monitored his own social media presence, posting stuff about Seventeen and what not. He found your comments funny, your reactions interesting, that he found himself going through your posts every day. He knew he'd love to be your friend if he could. 

Yet being an idol wasn't easy. You were so close yet so far away. It wasn’t as easy as typing the words ‘hey i wanna be your friend’ to just another person. His name held weight and Jihoon knew that. With his workload and all the responsibilities he had in his hands, he just couldn’t tell you what he felt. As he listened to your voice reverberating with the acoustics of his studio, he remembered how it took him years to finally stir up the courage and to finally see the opportunity to talk to you. 

He was glad he did. If he hadn’t, his heart wouldn’t feel as full as it has been since he met you. 

“If you’re really Woozi of Seventeen, then post a picture of yourself in Weverse and in the captions write what’s the last anime you’ve watched.” Jihoon remembered you telling him over chat, it was nerve-wracking back then but it felt silly now. Of course, you can’t just trust a random person claiming himself to be an idol. There were a lot of those these days.

“Let’s be friends first,” you wrote to him with a heart and a smiley face emoji back then. “I want to get to know you.” 

“Don't read the last page, but I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away…”

Jihoon gazed at you, even then and until now, you were still beautiful in his eyes. No matter how many songs he’d composed about you, the emotions that reside in his chest would never run dry. The way you laugh, the way you talk, the way you’d do just about anything—he only had you in his eyes. Yet things weren’t always roses and butterflies. 

You were so frustrated at him at that time when he had gotten scared of his own emotions. Jihoon knew, deep inside, that he had grown to love you over chats on SNS; your witty sarcasm and wonderful conversations were like water and sunlight to the love growing, rooting deeper and deeper into his heart. 

He wasn’t unfamiliar to this feeling, yet he had been betrayed by this same emotion in the past  and he wished he’d never had to be again this time. He was frightened that you could easily leave him, broken and empty, like the others did. Admittingly, he had lost hope for a love that was unconditional. He didn’t believe that there would be anyone out there who could love him wholeheartedly as much as he did, even through his flaws and his mistakes. 

But you suddenly popped into his life, unaware of how much power you hold over him. 

“You annoy me so much!” you told him over one fateful video call. “Jihoon, I feel so confused, you know? What am I really to you? Do you want to be just friends or do you want something more? If you want to stay as friends, then fine! I won’t force you. But that doesn’t mean I’d wait for you forever when you’re ready to take this to another step.”

He didn’t enjoy fighting with you. Not at all. Yet he was scared and stuck and didn’t know what to do. Being more meant more risks of hurting you unintentionally.

“But I can’t decide, Y/N! Dating means people will talk, and I don’t want them to talk about you! But I can’t just make everything I feel about you disappear!” he replied, and you were taken aback. “But if letting you go is the price I have to pay for your peace, then I don’t mind hurting.” 

Tears were already threatening to slide down your cheeks, and if only you knew how much it pained him to see you like that back then. To hear you trip on your words, to hold back small sobs as you tried to find coherent words to keep the conversation going, it felt like a thousand knives piercing through him. 

“Stop that…please. Do you think I won’t feel anything when you say that?” you replied. “Jihoon, I can understand where you’re coming from but don’t ever think that you’re the only one carrying this relationship, or whatever this is. For this to work, you have to share your burdens with me, you have to trust me, to depend on me.”

“I know that all your life, you’re used to doing everything by yourself, and I’m no different. We’ve achieved so many things just by ourselves. But we can’t be like this forever. A relationship isn’t just you or just me. It’s us both. So lean on me, let me carry those heavy feelings and I’d do the same with you. I want this to work, Jihoon. I don’t want to give up.”

Even if it was only through some shitty PC screen that he could see you, it didn’t diminish the weight of those words. He could feel it back then, he could still feel it right now as you played on the piano, singing a simple song—you were the one he wanted, tomorrow and forevermore.

“You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi, I can tell that it's going to be a long road…”

Jihoon would forever be thankful for you. Everything that you did for him, even if unintentionally on your part. He couldn’t admit how much he appreciates you in his life—through early morning calls when you were still far apart, and now through your warm presence in his studio as he worked.

“I’m considering moving there in the next year or so,” you suddenly told him over a phone call as you did your work. “Now that I’m breaking through the Korean webcomic scene, I think it’s better to stay close to my audience. And I think it’s better that we can finally be together, geographically at least.”

He could still remember it as fresh as that day. His heart began beating so fast, a wide grin broke out on his lips. He was worried that it’ll be too much for you to handle, but he had learned as your relationship progressed, that you’re someone who doesn’t get pushed back by hurdles so easily. Besides, you had him. 

Jihoon was glad that he can now keep you closer more than ever.

It wasn’t easy, like everything else in life. But there was nothing the both of you couldn’t handle. It took so much silence and deception to hide your relationship from the public—a decision the both of you agreed upon long before. Jihoon knew that the both of you were private people, and more than anything, you didn’t want anyone to become privy to your intimate relationships. 

For the first time, in such a long time, Jihoon was able to hold you close. Gazing at you, at your real eyes, at that time, felt surreal. Jihoon always thought he knew almost everything about you, yet he had never anticipated that there were still a lot of things about you which he hadn’t discovered yet. 

He never had thought how warm your touch was, how bright your grin was when you were scheming some prank, how loud your voice got when you were so passionate about something, how soft your lips were when you finally kissed for the first time. No matter how much technology brought you two together, nothing compared to actual, real life affection shared between lovers. 

“I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe or if you strike out and you're crawling home...”

Jihoon remembers, as you sang, how you silently embraced him on nights when he felt the world was too heavy on his shoulders. You wouldn’t say anything to him until he would open up; patiently waiting as you tapped an irregular beat on his back. As easily as that, you’d erase all the stress that he had accumulated over time. 

You didn’t need to say anything grand or moving, or make all of his problems disappear. Your simple gestures were already enough. You were already enough for him. 

“I don’t deserve you, Y/N,” he whispered to you one night as he buried his face on your shoulder. “You’re everything that I want, but I’m not sure if I’m giving you everything that you want.”

You giggled, sighing as you brushed your fingers through his newly dyed hair. 

“You don’t have to worry, Jihoon. You’ve given me so much that you never even realized it.”

He pouted, not liking how vague you were. “Like what?”

“Aren’t you just conveniently forgetting how many songs you’ve written for me?” you replied, a smirk on your lips as you twirled a lock of his around your finger. 

“But…those are just songs! It’s not as special as the things you’ve done for me…”

“Don’t underestimate them, Ji,” you told him as you pulled back, cupping his cheeks and looking into his eyes. “I know how important music is to you, how it’s an extension of your feelings, and to be a part of it is something I’d consider meaningful.”

For a moment, Jihoon gazed at you; his eyes holding so much emotion. There it was that he knew—he was truly, deeply, madly in love with you. 

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you…”

Feeling a strong urge, he leaned into you, capturing your lips into a deep and passionate kiss. Everything, everything that he felt for you at that time, he poured into that kiss, making you gasp for air. You cling to him for support, wholly surprised at his sudden intensity, yet not unwelcome at all. 

As the both of you pulled away, Jihoon once again returned to your arms, allowing himself to be vulnerable before you. 

“I truly don’t deserve you,” he whispered on your shoulder.. 

“After that incredible kiss?” you teased, “Statement denied.” 

Jihoon groaned and you chuckled.

“I know you’re overthinking again, so I’ll say it clearly. You’re more than I ever wanted, Lee Jihoon.”

You paused, patting his head, tightening your arms around him.

“Whenever you call just to check up on me despite your busy schedule, whenever you share funny stories about the members, whenever you act cute and pouty when I ask you to do aegyo for me…what else…?”

He grunted disapprovingly at your comment and you giggled. “I don’t act cute.”

“You do, you know? You’re naturally and inherently cute,” you replied. “You’re cute when you make ramyeon for me even when I just eat the noodles, you’re cute when you offer to hold my bag or open the door for me, or when you insist on paying for dinner, and you’re so cute when you hold me close whenever I feel down and insecure about myself and my work.”

Jihoon was silent, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He thought you didn’t really catch on those little things he did, but he had underestimated your memory and your powers of observation.

“There’s a lot more I can say, you know? I should make a list for you and maybe stick it on your desk whenever you begin to question yourself again.”

He snorted. “No, thank you. The members would see it and I don’t want them to.” 

“I’ll do it when you annoy me,” you joked, despite your words. “Now, I hope I’ve reassured your worries for tonight.” 

Snuggling against your shoulder, Jihoon smiled. “Yeah, thank you.”

“Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…”

As your words fell like chants into his ears, Jihoon was mesmerized by the image of you singing, his eyes wandering. A bitter memory relapsed into his mind, and a reminder that not everything was golden in your paradise. 

It was a cold January night, snow had finally ceased falling at one in the morning. The both of you were inside his studio just like normal; a habit the two of you took comfort in. He was holding your hand tight, keeping it warm with his hands in his pocket, as you scrolled on your phone.

For a while, it felt normal. The sounds of the clock ticking, the gentle thrumming of your heartbeat, the soft breaths you both shared. Yet, just like that, everything gradually became colder. It wasn’t the actual temperature, but your mood as he watched your expression turn from amused to a deadpan frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, kissing your temple. For some reason, he had developed a rather intuitive connection with you over time, where he can easily sense your change of moods despite your lack of expression.

You sighed as you looked up, leaning against him. He wondered if you were pondering on telling him the truth, or just keep your thoughts hidden. Before he could actually express to you his own thoughts, you sighed and nestled yourself on his shoulder, closing your eyes. 

“Jihoon, is this all a mistake?” you asked, your voice small. 

He blinked, furrowing his brow at the complex question. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ve read a few things online.”

It was a simple thing to say, yet Jihoon immediately knew what you were talking about. With a sigh, he adjusted his position where he could wrap his arms around you tightly. 

“People always talk, Y/N. We can’t do anything about it but continue living our own lives and ignore them.”

“But what if they reveal our relationship as a scandal and you’re forced to leave Seventeen? They could do that so easily, you know!” You asked with a weak voice, clinging to him tightly. “I don’t want that to happen. I’ll never let that happen, Jihoon!” 

“Then we’ll announce before they do,” he easily replied, brushing his fingers through your hair. “Have you forgotten how strong the relationship between Carats and Seventeen is? Of course, some will react negatively, but I know that they would be accepting.” 

Once more, Jihoon heard you sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just being selfish by being with you. A lot of people look up to you, Ji, and they all want a piece of your world. I don’t want to be possessive of you but sometimes I just question myself, like what if this is wrong? What if this was a mistake?” 

Gazing into your eyes, Jihoon felt all of your concerns. It was already given that dating an idol would be hard, and moments of weakness like these could make your anxieties grow into deeper, darker shadows. 

“It’s gonna be weird for me to say this but it’s ok to be selfish,” he told you, his words firm and certain. “Oh god, how do I say this…but look, Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be with me. We’re a couple, and that’s normal. There’s nothing wrong with being a couple.”

“But you’re an idol! If they knew, people would say a lot of bad things about you, and I don’t want that!”

“No matter how many times they say I’m an idol, I’m a human being, first and foremost, and just like everybody else, I have my own personal life which doesn’t revolve around my job. People will always say a lot of bad things about me no matter what I do, but what’s important to me is that I have you by my side, I have everyone by my side. So don’t ever think that this is wrong. You and I are never wrong. Who are they to judge what is wrong or right for me when they don’t know who I am?”

Jihoon realized that after his speech, you turned silent, and instead buried yourself deeper against his chest. 

“You’re important to me, Y/N. What other people say doesn’t matter to me anymore. As long as you’re here with me, I’m able to do anything.”

In a quiet voice, Jihoon caught your words. “Thank you for this, Ji…”

“But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we’re making mistakes…”

There was always a strange quality to time whenever he was with you. Sometimes time would slow down, sometimes it would pass by in just a blink of an eye. As he began to reminisce instead of actually listening, he realized just how much time had passed between the both of you.

“I want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day…”

On that certain night, when the both of you were wrapped between sheets, when the bright lights of Seoul reflected on the stark white ceiling, when you were tangled in each others arms, listening to your own fast paced heartbeats after a long night, he remembers you pulling him close, brushing stray locks from his face. 

“Jihoon...” you whispered under your breath, your fingers tracing circles on his cheekbones then down his jaw and to his lips. “You’re very handsome, did you know that?” 

He smirked at you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “What? You still haven’t gotten enough?”

In an instant your face heated up as you hit his toned chest playfully, making Jihoon laugh. “Ehh...! Don’t mention that now!” 

As his devious eyes turned soft, he smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What is it then?”

You sighed, gazing at the ceiling. “I just thought that someday, I know, things wouldn’t be this way anymore.The spark wouldn’t be as strong as before, the butterflies will eventually disappear. Things would become mundane between us...” 

There was a melancholic tone in your words; a detail which hadn’t escape his attention. Yet Jihoon knew that what you were talking about was reality. As the both of you would eventually be consumed by work, by responsibilities, by day to day obligations, it wasn’t a far off thought that the way you felt for each other would turn dim. He knew that, and he feared it. 

“But, you know...” you continued, breaking him away from his own thoughts. “Even if that happens, I’m not scared. Even if love do fail us someday, I’m confident that we would still be together, that we can still fix it. Rather than lovers who’re friends, we’re friends who became lovers. Even if you and I will eventually drift off, we still have a strong friendship. And we can rebuild everything from there.” 

Jihoon oftentimes wondered how you’re able to get these epiphanies. Your mind was deep and thoughtful, and that was one of the things he loved about you. Conversations with you were never dull as you bounced off ideas at one another. You would always say well-said ideas, often describing how he feels better than he ever will. 

“I want to share exciting things with you, Jihoon. I want to be helplessly all over you. I want to feel aroused, flustered, or dying of laughter. But when things get boring or nothing is really happening, or when we have to face bills, chores, or responsibilities, I’ll stay with you.”

A hundredfold, you were better at making him feel loved. He admits that. 

“You know, sometimes, I wonder what I’ve done in my past life for you to choose me,” he replied, a wide grin plastered on his face. “You’re everything that I could ever ask for, Y/N. Even if you don’t have to, you still take care of me so much. I swear I’ll make you happy even if I have to walk through fire or sleep on nails.”

“I don’t think that’ll make me very happy,” you replied, grinning. “But...wanna know what else that could make me happy?” 

Jihoon arched an elegant brow at you, his lips curving into a smirk. Ah yes, he definitely knows. “I was absolutely right when I said you still haven’t had enough.” 

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you…”

Thinking of how much time has passed, how much the two of you had been through, almost left him in tears. The memories the both of you shared over the years was incredible that it was hard to let them go. 

As he watched you finally sing the last few seconds of the song, Jihoon was sure that this moment would become another beautiful memory he would reminisce about one day in the future. It filled his heart, thinking about a pleasant future with you. A long time ago he had sang a song—doubting what kind of future was in store for him, yet now he already knows that it was something bigger, more beautiful that he had ever expected.

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you…”

As the final chord resounded across the room, both your eyes met in soft glances. You smiled at him, the sweetest, most loving smile you could ever muster, and then finally sang:

“...And I will hold on to you.”

Allowing the note to dissipate and disappear, you then turned to Jihoon with a bashful smile on your lips. “Well? Did you like your surprise?” 

Already a blushing mess, Jihoon simply burst out giggling as you looked at him in confusion. 

“Ya! Why are you laughing?” you exclaimed as you sulked, pulling on the sleeve of his shirt. 

Still chuckling, he stood up, pulling you towards his arms as he captured you in a tight embrace. He felt at peace with you more than anywhere. 

As it was apparent to you that he was in a rather good mood, you made a bemused smile as you wrapped your arms around him, also laughing on your own. 

“What’s gotten into you now?” You asked as he pulled away, now able to gaze into your eyes. 

“Nothing. I just thought you’re absolutely cute,” he replied as he cupped your cheeks, squishing them much to your chagrin. 

“Seriously, Jihoon! Why’re you so happy?” 

“Am I not allowed to be happy now?” he replied, his eyes turning into crescents. 

You raised your brows at him with a grin. “You like my song, didn’t you?”

“And what if I did? It was a really nice song, you know.”

This time, it was your turn to burst out into giggles. It was hilarious how Jihoon was being so roundabout with admitting that he liked it; it was incredibly adorable. 

“You’re so cute, Hoonie~” 

It was no secret that he doesn’t appreciate being cooed at, as he made a small frown upon hearing your nickname for him.

“Now I don’t think I’m so happy anymore.”

“Oh c’mon!” You hit his chest lightly with a chuckle. “Tell me what you really think about it!”

His eyes filled to the brim with endearment for you, Jihoon stared into your eyes, trying to communicate how much he was so thankful that you entered his life. 

“I like it. I love it, Y/N,” he replied, caressing your cheek. “It made me remember everything we’ve been through, and how much we’ve grown together.”

“And we’ll continue to the next year and in the future. Thank you for giving me your midnights, Jihoon.”

“My midnights would always be yours, as you will always be my mornings,” he gave you another embrace, embedding the feel of your skin against his, the way your hair brushes through his hands, the sound of your voice and the your scent—he will burn them all into his head so he won’t ever forget how much he loves you. 

There were so many words that he could say so he could just express how he was thankful that you became a part of his life, yet none of them seemed fitting to say at that moment. Instead, as Jihoon finally decided upon, that it was best to leave them for future songs and say the words that he really wanted to say for such a long time now. 

“I love you.”

 -Hyeri

[teenytinystorage]

Can you make a fanfic with Logan and Deceit only talking in memes

Hi!! so I don’t think this is exactly what you wanted... but I love them Brain Cell Bois so i hope you enjoy!!

•——•

Vocab Cards

Summary: Logan is very much Struggling with learning new slang, but who decides to actually help the Disaster Nerd but the slimy snake boy Deceit? Welp, this’ll be interesting.

Word Count: 1,291

Warnings: one (1) “not wanting to hurl” mention, implied body horror

Genre: Fluff?? Probably?

Pairings: Platonic/Romantic Loceit

-

“You know,” Deceit quipped, staring down at his gloved fingers as he stood in front of the camera and to the left of Logan, “you’re not very good at those.”

“At what?” Logan responded quickly, stuffing his “LOL” vocabulary card back into his jeans pocket as the other sides watched the two banter.

“Those vocabulary cards! Oh, you ‘ought to have someone teach you this stuff,” Deceit flicked his tongue at his teeth, “Who am I kidding, I’d even write some cards for you at this point,” he snickered before turning to Thomas. “But Thomas--”

-

So then, Deceit knows some slang, Logan thought, Deceit’s wittiness still ringing in his ears even after the video ended and the sides each dispersed into their respective rooms.

He sat at his computer, typing and retyping LOL into UrbanDictionary to make sure that, yes, his card was right, LOL was an acronym that stood for “laughing out loud” and he had his definition right on the card.

He even used it the right way too. He said, “Thomas, this is not a LOL matter.”

That’s the right usage. Sure it messed up the phrase “laughing matter” up a bit, but it was hip, so it didn’t matter too much.

So why was it so badly received? Did Deceit really know more about this whole slang deal than he did?

I’d even write some cards for you at this point, Deceit had said earlier.

Hm. Hmmm. Hm indeed.

Logan could use the outside perspective, in his opinion. He knew it wasn’t reliable to have only one source on anything, but for slang, he could never find any other “reliable sources” (HUGE air quotes on that, UrbanDictionary was in no way a college-research-paper-worthy site) but one; everything else just made no sense and was contradictory and confusing.

Maybe conferring with a knowledgeable colleague on the subject could be useful? That always helped with the scientific method. And Logan was basically going into this whole trend thing blind anyways, so it wasn’t like any conversation between them could hurt.

This line of thinking led Logan to stand from his seat, stuff a few blank index cards into his pockets and a ballpoint pen in there too for good measure. He gave one final adjustment of his glasses before sinking down into the classy snake-faced side’s room.

-

Deceit, sitting on his couch, engrossed in a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, gave a glance and then a double-take of Logan before sighing heavily and shutting his book.

“Ep ep ep--” Deceit held his pointer finger up in the air, “before you ask, yes, Remus did your little project and confirmed that we can regenerate limbs. And before you ask, no, I did not ask how he found it out because I didn’t care nor did I want to hurl today.”

“I actually came here to-- wait, really?” Logan responded, surprised, taking out an index card and quickly jotting down the findings. “Fascinating.”

“It’s ickier to me than it is fascinating, no cap,” Deceit complained as he smoothed the fringe peeking out from his hat. “But it’s your research and not mine, so go off, I suppose.”

Then Logan, upon hearing Deceit’s confusing phrases about hats and/or glacial structures and his encouragement for Logan to keep researching and/or to leave (slang was so confusing), remembered what he came here for in the first place.

“Right, Deceit,” Logan stuffed his index card of findings into his pants pocket, adding, “Earlier today I used a slang term that I believe stands for ‘laughing out loud,’ but your reaction implied to me that I may have been incorrect in the context of its usage. Would you care to elaborate on that?” Logan asked, clicking the pen in his pocket a few times as he spoke.

Deceit lounged back on the couch and held the back of his head in his hands. “Cssssertainly. You should totally use acronyms as if they’re the actual words they stand for, it definitely isn’t cringe-worthy at all.”

Logan, bewildered at the fact that Deceit even decided to answer his query (or humor him, more likely), quickly filed the information into his brain. “Oh. Oh, okay. And would you be willing to maintain your offer of assisting me with inscribing more vocabulary cards?”

“I hope you realize that was just some quick and witty charm of mine,” Deceit hummed. “You do take things very seriously though. That’s just your vibe.”

Logan’s expression faltered a bit. “Oh.”

Deceit paused, glancing his eyes up at the ceiling irritatedly before looking back at Logan. “You know what? If it keeps you from committing any other word atrocities such as the one today, then sure, I’ll help.”

“Really?” Logan replied just barely before he sank out and perused the internet for at least four hours for new slang terms on his own. “You would?”

“Sure. But I’m not a meme connoisseur by any means, I leave that to the raccoon. I’ll still try my best, though.”

-

It was relatively quiet in Deceit’s room after Deceit’s initial lecturings, including “never describe emojis out loud in words” and “for the love of your nonexistent mother, please never use ‘periodt’ like it’s actual punctuation.”

“So was it Lebanese or lesbian?” Logan asked, scribbling on another index card and laying stomach-down on the floor.

“It was lesbian,” Deceit said, sitting vertically and upside-down on the couch with his head almost on the floor and his hat barely hanging onto his head.

“Ah,” Logan commented, finishing the card. “Is the humor supposed to arise from the child thinking the camera-lady said Lebanese instead of lesbian, which conflicts with her allegedly American nationality?”

“No one knows,” Deceit answered.

“Ah, of course,” Logan replied, setting the card into a now growing stack of finished terms.

The two kept writing.

“Ok, here’s a test,” Deceit said a few minutes later, turning to Logan. “And they were roommates.”

Logan took a second before responding, monotonously, that is, “Oh my god, they were roommates.”

Deceit nodded his head in surprise. “You’re getting good at this.”

“You think so?” Logan asked, a small sense of accomplishment seeping into him.

“Well you’re certainly better than the LOL matter from before,” Deceit commented, chuckling.

-

Soon the next video had already started before Logan knew it.

“But doesn’t it seem like the right thing to do here is help?” Patton asked, twiddling his fingers together.

Thomas sighed.

“Well, I think that y’all’d’ve a bit of patience for Thomas. His vibes are a bit whack at the moment, no cap,” Logan interjected, still in his monotone voice.

The sides, and Thomas as well, stared at Logan in disbelief.

“What?” Logan peered around the room.

“Where did you learn all that?” Virgil asked, jaw hanging open and eyes wide.

“Deceit taught me a bit more about slang so I don’t inspire any more cringe-fests for you all.”

“Weird flex, but okay,” Deceit replied, rising up next to Logan.

“Agh!! Can you just leave— him—” Virgil shot a glare at Deceit, “—out of this??” Virgil pleaded, now irritated and growling under his breath. “I’ve already had my fair share of sleep-paralysis demons for today.”

“Quite uncommon for the Protohype to be so well-versed in lingo,” Roman mused. “But alas, go forth I proclaim.”

“Yeah, good work Logan, but what is Deceit doing here again?” Thomas asked, to which Patton replied: “Yeah, I think Thomas has his mind pretty well made up on this decision already!”

“Oh please,” Deceit started.

Logan couldn’t help but, for a moment, revel in his success, before, of course, going back to being the coolest cool teacher cool guy in the entire Thomas-sphere.

What a nice thing it is to learn, isn’t it?

-

[himarifuruya]

Diamond Light [ Open Book ]

Preface: Diamond Light is a non-linear series of stories based around my OC Himari Furuya and her relationship with Tamaki Amajiki or Suneater.

TW: Chapters may contain Rated M [18+] content, such as graphic sexual content, canon typical violence and gore, body horror and explicit language.

Chapter Summary: Midterm exams are just around the corner and Himari knows she needs all the help she can get.

If Himari was asked what part of her heroic education she disliked the most, it would have to be the academic side. On top of their rigorous training, the students of U.A. were also expected to keep up with their regular studies. To get anywhere in this world, students not only needed to be exceptional in skill, but in intelligence as well. It was essential, a prestigious institution couldn’t afford to accept mediocrity.

Like winter’s frosty breath, the young hero could feel the chill of midterm exams creeping in. Every student with a lick of common sense would be cramming their brains out to earn the best results. She could only pray to the Gods that she could muster some passing marks.

As luck would have it, she found her chance

Instead of going home that day, she was in the library, sitting beside her work study partner, Tamaki Amajiki. Earlier that day, she found the dark-haired boy at the far table leaned over his study materials with a severe look on his face. It had been impeccable timing considering she had gone there for a peaceful place to work. Seeing an opportunity to get some help, she decided to reach out. As usual, she managed to give him a near heart attack when she seemed to appear before him out of thin air, asking if they could study together.

Much to her surprise, he agreed to it.

Ever since the two started working together at Fat Gum’s agency, they had been seeing a lot more of each other. Part of it was because Togata and Hado began making it a daily ritual to hang out before class, which sometimes led her to get scolded by the teacher for being late. Some of her classmates even joked that she wasn’t really their classmate, but a spy sent by the other class to ruin them.

The rest had been coincidental.

“S-So, what part are you having trouble with Furuya?” He asked suddenly disrupting her train of thought.

“Hm?”

He was looking away from her, fumbling with his mechanical pencil. “I…just thought that if we shared what parts we are struggling with, we could help each other out better.”

There was a grave look on her face as her gaze shifted from her study guide to the disastrous notes she scribbled during class.

“Everything…”

“I-Is that so?” He sounded concerned, falling quiet as he turned his gaze back to his own work. Himari’s attention drifted as well, suddenly feeling a little awkward. It almost caught her off guard when he spoke up again.

“Could you…maybe, show me your notes?”

“Uhm…” Himari thought for a moment, then closed her notebook. “…I don’t want to.”

He surprised her again with a flat look. “Furuya…”

“Okay, okay, but don’t laugh, English is literally my worst subject.” She held out her notebook as if she were handing out her diary.

After Tamaki took the notebook from her, he flipped it open to see what he was working with. She sat there, stiff as a board, watching him slowly sink back in his chair. His brows lifted as if mystified by what he just laid his eyes upon.

“Oh my god…” He covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a snort. “You confused ‘persecute’ with ‘prostitute’…”

She blinked. “What’s the difference?”

Her question sent him floundering, like a fish out of water. “W-Well, a, ugh, w-well, ehhhh.”

When he couldn’t get the words out, she offered him a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I’ve never been really good at this kind of thing… Even when I took the entrance exam, I barely passed the written portion. Guess I just prefer hands-on work.” She then added quickly. “─Don’t think I’ll use that as an excuse though! Even if it doesn’t seem like it, I am very serious about my studies.”

Something about her humor seemed to help calm him down to the point that he chuckled warmly at her words. “I-It’s okay, I understand that this stuff can be pretty dense…and well…b-boring.”

Himari hummed in agreement, resting her elbows on the table with her chin in the cradle of her palms. “Whenever I listen to an English lecture, I feel like my brain melts inside my skull and bleeds out of my ears.”

Amajiki raised a hand, halting her from further exposition. “I get it, you don’t need to include graphic imagery, dummy.”

“It’s more immersive that way though,” she said.

“Next time, ask for consent first.” His comeback got her giggling, usually when she made remarks like that, she often received weird looks or awkward laughter.

She let out a soft sigh. “I know this is a little too much, but it would really mean a lot to me if I had your help.”

He set down her notebook, scratching his cheek. “To be honest, I-I’m surprised that you would want to study with me.” She noticed he began to fidget as he went on to elaborate. “I-I mean I’m really…really bad at t-talking in general and well, explaining things…that’s all a lot of pressure… I-If I screw s-something up, I-I don’t want that to n-negatively affect you. God…I would feel so bad if that happened…I─”

Before he could ramble any further, Himari pushed a finger up to his lips, silencing him. His eyes widened and his cheeks reddened in response to her touch. He sank back into his chair to get away, staring up at her with a bewildered, almost frightened expression.

She stood up from her seat with her ruby gaze leveled with his indigo ones. If she was being honest with herself, she found his expression to be quite adorable.

“Listen Amajiki, you might think I have the wrong impression of you, but I truly believe you are a reliable person.” She spoke in a subdued tone that didn’t waver. “─Honestly, I really hate asking for help, period, but you’re someone I feel comfortable enough to be around; so, it’s not like I’m asking out of convenience.”

As she went on, Amajiki's terrified expression slowly morphed into wonder. He almost couldn't believe that she could speak such kind things so openly; not only that, but these were things she felt about him.

“Uh-Uhm…” He tore away from her gaze with a hand over his eyes. His voice came out shaky, practically rattling out of his throat. “Okay, Okay… Just….”

Hardly a second later, Amajiki had his back turned to her, folded over, and mumbling to himself. Seeing him trembling made Himari sit down, wondering if her approach had been too aggressive. Still, it’s not like she regretted saying it.

As if on instinct, she reached over and gently laid her palm on the center of his back. Not surprised when his entire body went frozen upon contact. Beneath her hand, she felt every tense muscle stiffen. He didn’t retract from her touch though, even as she spread her fingers over his vertebra.

It perked her intrigue when his shoulders started to slack. There was still a fair amount of rigidity in his posture, but not as much as there had been before. He eventually gathered enough of his composure speak. Though, his voice was so quiet she almost couldn’t make out what he said.

“…Thank you.”

Once she pulled her hand away, Amajiki started to shift around his seat, feeling brave enough to face her again. Sitting more properly, he cleared his throat. “I-I’m not sure how much better your scores will be with my help, b-but I-I’ll show you what I know.”

The girl looked up at him beaming. “If I can do just a little better than what I have been, then that’s more than I can ever ask for. Besides, I can't afford to let you down.”

“I see…” The smile that had moved onto his lips made her chest feel lighter, like the flutter of a soft breeze carrying her off to the warmth of summer. It filled her with an aching curiosity, but anything she might have wanted to say had escaped her. She didn’t mind it though, finding serenity in just being in his proximity.

However, the moment was cut short when a familiar teasing voice derailed them. “And what are you troublemakers doing?”

“M-Mirio!”

He had his face phased through a book on the display shelf behind them. There was a playful glint in his eyes, sounding a little too innocent. “Oh sorry, did I interrupt something? Tamaki, you’re looking pretty red in the ears.”

Amajiki’s hands shot up to cover them. “Sh-Shut up!”

“Sorry, sorry, I just saw you guys here, so I figured I would drop by to say hi,” he said. “You’re studying, right?”

“Sorta, though, I think I’m adding more work onto Amajiki’s plate.” Himari replied, ruffling the back of her hair.

“I-It isn’t a big deal at least, it shouldn’t be…” Amajiki’s eyes dropped to her notebook, suddenly recalling the catastrophe he saw. Under his breath, he mumbled. “I hope…”

“Are you busy, Togata? You could study with us too if you want,” she offered.

“Sure, as long as you guys don’t mind.”

"Togata, are you still spying on them?" Hado's inquired from faraway, sounding like she was ready to scold him.

"Uhm...no...?"

After a bit of of bantering, the group invited Hado to join them as well. With the squad united, they hit the books. Time seemed to fly as they dug into the material, reviewing information, sharing insight, and talking through numerous subjects. For Himari, it was like a breath of fresh air compared to studying on her own.

Admittedly, she found it astonishing how natural it felt to be part of their group. Despite her being in the rival class, they had always treated her as one of their own and never as an outsider. She never felt the need to question why either; their genuine nature seemed to shine through any possible doubt that could ever dare try to cloud her mind.

Her attention wandered back to Amajiki, who was occupied with reviewing his exam materials. Since the group had formed, he had been quiet for the most part, offering some dialogue here and there, but otherwise distracted. It wasn’t a painful silence though, but one that was in peace, relishing in a moment.

She thought he might turn away when he seemed to feel her gaze on him, but no. Instead, he offered her his undivided attention. “I-Is there something you need help with?” He asked with a sweet smile adorning his features.

Right then, she was reminded why she was there to begin with.

“Uhm…” She picked up her notebook, showing him the section she had been plugging away at. “Could you look over these for me?”

“Of course.”

Perhaps, it was selfish of her, but she wanted to cling to this group for as long as they would allow. Like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to their warmth.

[aaternum-a]

@teniras​ said, “ 'you look incredibly cute today,' there's no shame in saying the truth; its an effortless, casual compliment. And it's always nice for effort to be acknowledged, when it comes to dressing up. '--but don't stick by my side all night. I'm just the one who invited you to the party, not your mom.' And that was patronizing -- on purpose. Andrea always has to go for a mix of nice and rude. “

It was a miracle she'd had the time to do anything that was not directly related to work. The unfortunate part of independence being sole reliance on income. But with her shift ended relatively early, she happily accepted the invitation extended to her, even going so far as to dress the part. A party seemed fun and maybe she'd meet a few new people and potentially get to know her new friend, a bit more. It's easy to spot her outside of the station, red hair and leather. Ryu walks over, one arm lifted above her head to wave and signal her arrival. "   Hey! Glad my sense of direction didn't fail me here,   " She grins, adjusting the strap of her bag as she closes the distance. There isn't much she knows about Andrea, but the few times they have hung out were fun; easily falling into conversation and sharing a good few laughs. Not that it took much for Ryu to find humor in just about anything. Her hands laced together behind her back as she fell in stride behind the other, gaze darting over the area and in the direction of wherever they were headed. At the sound of Andrea's voice again, she turns back, pale lashes fluttering in response, lips parted to express appreciation for the compliment -- it did take more time then she'd like to admit to pick something out-- but she stops as the other continues. At first, all she can manage is a strange little noise that withers in her throat. Still processing the words, bewildered, yet strangely amused by such an off-handed comment. Where did that come from? There's a weary smile forming at her lips, gaze squinted in silent question. "  I'll try to keep a conscious log of 'Andrea time' then.  " Her gaze returns to the bottom of her skirt, patting the fabric, "   But uh, thanks! I attempted to resemble a human and I guess I passed.   " She laughs, trying to deflect from the rough follow up, "   Today, I give you this, tomorrow? A mystery. Probably something comfy.   " 

Ah, she doesn't really know where she's going now. The details omitted-- were they meeting with friends of Andrea? Or was this a public event? Huh. She squints trying to recall any of their previous text messages, but nothing significant comes to mind. "   So, what kind of party is this?   "

[snazzy-suit]

Fool Me Once, Fool Me Thrice Chapter 7.4 Deleted Scenes

Oh hey it’s a thing! Some of y’all showed interest in seeing the deleted stuff I mentioned, so I’m posting ‘em as promised. If you haven’t read part 4, I highly recommend you do that first.

These were all cut pretty early, so they didn’t get any revision. In other words: they be rough af. Enjoy!

===

“Plunger Scene”

I hadn’t originally planned for King Boo to land a successful hit on Luigi. In fact, it had been the other way around. As I said in the notes of part 4, I was going to have Luigi throw King Boo with the Plunger Shot, but ultimately got rid of it because it just didn’t feel right (and I didn’t think Hellen would sit quietly by and watch her idol get smacked around).

For kicks, I also included the alternative way King Boo reveals the fate of Luigi’s family and friends. 

=

“Did... did you just stick a plunger to my face?”

Luigi shrinks in on himself, shoulders rising until they are level with his ears.

“It was an accident?” he offers uncertainly.

King Boo’s eyes narrow into a glare. Despite the plunger on their face, the king still somehow manages to look menacing.

“This won’t be,” he hisses.

King Boo lunges at the plumber, foregoing the portrait entirely. Luigi reflexively activates the Poltergust’s intake, but instead of catching the monarch in its gale, it latches on to something else—the knotted end of the plunger’s rope. Luigi reels back with a start, and is surprised when the plunger holds firm. The sharp tug startles King Boo enough that the spirit aborts their attack, instinctively resisting the opposing force. Suddenly, Luigi and King Boo find themselves in an incredibly bizarre game of tug-o-war. The plumber begins to feel his shoes lose their purchase, and as he slowly skids across the floor, Luigi realizes he could (and probably should) shut off the intake and let the rope go.

He doesn’t.

What happens next, Luigi can’t even begin to explain what possessed him to do it. He briefly allows himself to stumble forward, tricking the monarch into thinking he had lost their little impromptu game. King Boo eases on their pull, and the second Luigi feels the lost tension in the rope, he acts. Luigi firmly plants his feet in a wide stance and jerks the rope upward with all his might. The ghostly monarch soars into the air with a startled squawk. Luigi swiftly spins on his heel, yanking a flailing King Boo above him in a wide arch—the latter skimming the bottom of the chandelier as they reach the zenith of their trajectory. With an involuntary battle cry, Luigi slams King Boo onto the ground as hard as he can. A loud crack splits the air—the sound accompanied by shattering dishware and ornaments falling from the nearby buffet tables. Luigi, still adjusting to the new Poltergust, accidentally releases the plunger, sending King Boo crashing into the hotel entrance and knocking himself onto his backside.  

The plumber blinks slowly from his sprawled position. He looks from the dazed king to the caved-in floor spider-webbed with cracks. Luigi spies the dislodged plunger lying in the mess that spilled from the shaken tables. He isn't sure what amazes him most, that such an innocuous thing could assist in causing so much damage, or that he was able to throw King Boo like that all on his own. He’ll have to tell his brother about it later—Mario would have loved to see that.

Luigi grins. He has to admit, it was very cathartic.

The elation from his successful maneuver is short lived. King Boo quickly shakes off their daze and rises from the floor with a furious snarl, spurring Luigi into scrambling to his feet. The monarch’s eyes burn with unkempt rage, but there’s surprise there too, and something else... Fear? It’s gone so fast that Luigi thinks he may have imagined it.

“How?” King Boo snarls. “How do you have a Poltergust with you?!”

King Boo’s fervid ire has the plumber trembling again, but it’s not quite as bad as before. Luigi squeezes the Poltergust’s wand, intake nozzle at the ready.

“The professor never leaves home without it,” Luigi replies, “And I’m not leaving here without him.”

The spectral monarch’s anger evaporates into shock. They open their mouth as if to speak—perhaps to ask how Luigi knew E. Gadd was here in the first place—but the question dies on their tongue as a look of epiphany abruptly crosses their face. King Boo’s features relax, melting into something cavalier. What little satisfaction Luigi got from catching the king off-guard gives way to unease.

“Oh?” King Boo asks casually. “Just the professor?” He grins. “Does that mean I can keep the others?”

Luigi suddenly recalls the other vehicles he had seen in the parking garage with utmost clarity. Dread weighs heavily in his gut.

“Others?” he dares to ask.

King Boo gestures at a point behind Luigi. The plumber turns to look. Some distant part of him would later realize how stupid it had been to take his eyes off the monarch, and just how lucky he was that King Boo hadn’t taken advantage of his carelessness. Currently, Luigi feels the furthest thing from lucky. Horror fills him to the brim. This time, Luigi does drop the Poltergust’s nozzle.

There, floating in a neat arc above Hellen Gravely, are portraits containing Luigi’s friends and family.

===

“Olive Branch Scene”

There was a brief moment where I considered having Luigi attempt to make peace with King Boo, but I decided it was too soon for the string bean to extend an olive branch (we all know King Boo wouldn’t have accepted it, anyway). Plus, I already have another installment drafted that covers when King Boo and Luigi first agree on a “truce”. Having the concept of peace introduced this early would kind of take away from it (you’ll see what I mean when we get to that chapter).

=

Luigi tightens his grip on the Poltergust’s wand, anger bleeding through his fear. Lightning crackles to life about the plumber’s hands, unbidden. King Boo grins.

“Oh dear, have I upset you, Luigi? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you angry before. It’s adorable! Like a tiny chihuahua yapping at lion.” The spirit chuckles. “But I think we all know what happens to the chihuahua, don’t we?”

Luigi bites back an angry retort. He quietly sighs—eyes closed—and takes a deep, composing breath as he reigns in his anger. The building electricity fizzles out. Luigi pointedly ignores King Boo’s disappointed huff while he collects himself.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says at last.

King Boo’s malicious grin falters. Confusion replaces triumph.

“What?” the monarch asks, looking genuinely perplexed.  

For a moment, Luigi shares the monarch's confusion, surprised at his own words. Initiating peaceful negotiations had become almost second nature to Luigi since he began mending the relationships between mortals and spirits. Despite his unpleasant history with King Boo, the plumber turned mediator had found himself habitually going through the motions of his newfound career. Luigi nearly retracts his engager, but a ludicrous thought has him hesitating.

What if he tried…talking to King Boo? Tried reasoning with them?

Luigi frowns internally at the idea. There’s no way it will work…right? It would be a waste of time and breath…wouldn’t it?

He decides it couldn’t hurt to try.

“We don’t have to do this,” Luigi repeats. He slowly—hesitantly—returns the Poltergust’s wand to its holster and raises his hands in a placating gesture. “We don’t have to fight.”

Hellen and King Boo exchange bewildered looks. The spectral monarch stares back at Luigi, gob smacked.

“Are...are you surrendering?”

Luigi quickly shakes his head, alarmed by the suggestion.

“What? No! I’m just—” the plumber cuts himself off. He takes a deep, composing breath. “I’m asking you to let us go.”

King Boo stares at the plumber uncomprehendingly. Luigi is about to repeat himself when the monarch abruptly bursts into laughter. A distant tittering informs Luigi that Hellen shares the king’s mirth.

“Luigi, you continue to surprise me. I never realized you had such a bizarre sense of humor,” he cackles, wiping away an imaginary tear.

“I’m being serious.”

The spirit’s mouth clamps shut. Luigi quickly presses on, lest he be dismissed before he can even make his case.

“Return my friends to me, let us leave in peace, and I won’t try to capture you or any of the other spirits in this hotel.” Luigi gestures vaguely around him. “No one has to get hurt. No one has to lose their freedom. We can put all of this behind us and move on with our lives—err, afterlives.” He laughs nervously.

No one laughs with him.

===

“Baby’s First Banter Scene”

I thought of a dumb joke reminiscent of King Boo and Luigi’s usual banter, but because the Plunger Scene got removed, it, too, was scrapped. 

=

“It sounds like you’re in good hands, Luigi. I would stick around and join in on the fun, but thanks to your cheap, apish assault, I need to go make an appointment with a chiropractor.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Luigi can’t help but wrinkle his brow at King Boo’s absurdity.

“You don’t have a spine,” he says flatly.  

“Neither do you, but I’m not so rude as to call attention to it, now am I?”

Luigi sighs internally. He had walked right into that one, hadn’t he?

“Well then! Now that everything’s settled, I really must be going—these portraits aren’t going to hang themselves.” With a wave, the portrait prisons containing Luigi’s friends and family drift after the monarch as he slowly begins to ascend. King Boo spares the plumber one last sinister grin before he disappears through the ceiling. “See you soon, Luigi.”

And with that, they are gone.

[cheerfulmelancholies]

Medical Mechanical-Ch. 4

"This is it, Diana. Just one more day and then it'll be over." She stopped mumbling to herself as she secured her bike to its usual light post. It was Friday and she couldn't wait for the weekend. Not only would she have more time to relax, she could also do some digging on MM. Despite these benefits, however, the best part about the next two days was that she wouldn't have to hear all the gossip and nonsense about her and her father.

Walking into first period gave her the exact same scenario she'd just escaped from yesterday, only now Megan and her gaggle of hens stood waiting by her usual spot. Joanne wore an especially smug expression, as though she'd achieved something Diana had no hope of gaining. She groaned and craned her gaze to the ceiling before entering the danger zone.

"What," she said before they could open their mouths.

Megan faltered for a millisecond before offering one of her signature grins. "Well, aren't you just excited to be here today," she said, tone patronizing.

Diana blinked and watched her with disinterest.

"You've obviously got other stuff to do so I'll make this quick. I heard Medical Mechanical is about to open a new division." She paused for dramatic affect.

Diana sighed, having no choice but to take the bait. Acting like it physically hurt her, she said, "So?"

"I heard your father is supposed to be at the forefront of it." She caught the slight twitch of an eyebrow and flashed a Cheshire grin. "Apparently, Mr. Ryder is one of their best."

"And you would know this, how?"

"Well, I've met this remarkable man who works at one of their Rapid Response clinics and he said-"

She didn't need to hear anymore. "Let me stop you right there," Diana said, pointing a finger in the other girl's face. "First off, if that's supposed to be some underhanded insult then, wow, you are really losing your edge. I mean, come on. Remarkable," she mocked, imitating the other girl’s voice. "Anyone who's stupid enough to date you isn't any more worth my time than dog shit, so stop trying to make me jealous. And even if you are dating some guy who works there, there's no way he's anywhere near your age, so go ahead and guess what that makes you." She chuckled. "But I'll be kind. I'll go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt and say you're just full of B.S." She flashed her own sinister grin at the girl's offended look.

"Like you know everything," Joanne snapped, stepping in to defend her leader. "She's just trying to warn you. You're the one whose father works for those freaks."

Turning to satellite two, she said, "Nice defense. Am I supposed to be insulted or what? Isn't she apparently dating someone from there? How's that make her any better?" She looked back at Megan. "And you. I love how you know so much more about my father than me, the person who's actually related to him. I may not know everything he does, but I do know that's bull. Now, if you're done here, I'd like to sit." She finished with a wave to her unoccupied seat.

Megan scoffed. "I was just trying to help you, freak." She spat the word like it tasted foul. "Don't come crying to me when your dad becomes their latest scandal."

"Don't worry," Diana retorted. "You go ahead and worry about your own problems." Without another word she shooed them away and plopped into the chair. She ignored their comments about her father and her messed up family situation. Two minutes later saw the teacher walk in and begin class.

As Ms. Kohl began lecturing them on the importance of the Civil Rights movement, Diana took consecutive glances at the classroom door. Everyone was there but Ethan. She tried to quell her fears by telling herself that he was just running late, or that he'd skipped class. It wasn't unusual, though it kept bothering her. He wasn't like that; he was, like her, too different from the others. She felt a little upset at the thought that he couldn't even show up for her sake, as ridiculous as that sounded. They weren't friends, not really, and he wasn't obligated to stick by her side like glue. He probably just wanted a break from all the harassment.

Still, she found herself missing the camaraderie they shared in being the only two outcasts, and she rather liked the game they played. She tried not to let the disappointment show as she scribbled down notes and periodically fired glares at Megan. When class ended and she carried her things to English, she once again found the room devoid of the boy in question.

It wasn't until lunch that she spotted him, hiding outside at the far end of the campus.

"Where were you?" She was glad she brought her lunch tray with her; he looked like he could use the fuel.

Ethan snapped out of his daze and looked at Diana, surprised. "Oh, hey," he responded. He ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't think that's gonna help." His dark locks were frazzled and sticking up at random angles. No matter how many times he tried to smooth it, the stubborn follicles rebelled.

"Whatever." He refocused his gaze back on the road leading to the school.

"Here." Diana poked him in the arm with the corner of her tray. "You look like you need it," she said to his bewildered expression.

Ethan took it and, with one last glance at the street, motioned with his head for her to follow him. He ignored her questions until they were by the boiler room door away from prying eyes and ears. "Sit," he said, seating himself on the only patch of grass not overtaken by weeds.

"I think I'm good." She folded her arms against herself. This new behavior of his was freaking her out.

He sighed. Picking at the cheap salad, he said, "I was late for a reason, you know."

"Yeah. What was up with that? You're always on time, you nerd." She was trying not to show how much it had bugged her.

"What does your dad tell you about his job?"

The unexpected query took her by surprise. "Nothing much," she said after a moment. His eyes were dead serious.

"You don't know anything about what he does, do you?" He watched her shake her head. "It's the same thing with my mom."

"What does this have to do with you being late?"

"Do you ever keep yourself up at night wondering if any of the rumors are true? Don't you think it's odd... creepy really, that Medical Mechanical never reveals anything they’re working on until it’s done? What do you think they do in that windowless building of theirs?" He let her think about it.

Diana was silent for a few minutes. She didn't like where this was going and a cold stone settled in the pit of her stomach. "I... I know there's something up with them. There has to be. But I don't know what that something is. I'm certainly not gonna get anything from my dad."

Ethan hummed. The tray sat in the dirt beside him, long forgotten. "You never answered my question though."

"Which one?" she joked, though it was devoid of humor.

"If I tell you why I was late, you have to swear not to tell anyone. I'm talking taking it to the grave secret."

"O-okay." She cursed herself for sounding like an unsure child. "I swear," she said, firmer.

"Good. I know I can trust you, I just wanted to make sure you understood how important this was."

He smiled at her and she felt a few stray flutters amidst the ice. "So what's going on?"

He took in a breath. "I was scouting out the MM building where our parents work," he let out. "I didn't get very far; the guards spotted me and chased me off. But I found out a few things."

"You what?!" She hadn't meant to shout. They both glanced around to make sure no one was coming. After glancing at her watch and confirming they still had time, she said, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you'd get into if you were actually caught?"

Despite his situation, he grinned. "Yeah, that would be one hell of a spanking."

"Dude, they know your face. What if they...? Nevermind. Why would you do that?"

The grin faded. "Something's going on and I had to know. Mom's been acting kind of... weird lately. I thought maybe she was just tired from all the work she's been doing but..."

"She's not giving you any answers and you've got a bad feeling." She thought back to Megan's talk of a new division. She thought she'd just been screwing with her, but now...

"I tried looking it up," he went on. "I even went to the damn library. I couldn't find anything about Medical Mechanical other than what they'd already made public. I got in over my head on this one conspiracy site and, well, I just thought I'd try to dig something up myself."

"What do you think this is, a spy movie? They have guards with guns there. They could have shot you." He gave her a strange look and her eyes widened. "They shot at you?"

"Not... exactly." He scratched the back of his head. The hair stayed tangled.

"If there were guns pointed at you and they were firing something, that's being shot at."

Ethan was about to speak when the bell rang. He cursed and stood. Gripping Diana by the shoulders, he locked gazes with her and said, "I need to talk to you about this. Can you meet up with me this weekend?" She nodded. "Alright, good. Give me your phone; I'll add my number."

"This is... a little sudden," she said as he typed in the info.

He looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," she responded, shaking her head. "This just came out of nowhere, that's all. I still can't believe you did that." She took her phone back and sent a quick text so he'd have her number.

"Yeah, well, you won't believe some of the stuff I found out." He picked up the tray and dusted himself off.

"You seriously expect me to wait until tomorrow? You can't just leave someone hanging like that."

"Sorry, I just feel a little paranoid now." He eyed the boiler room door they'd been standing next to with suspicion. "If you want some food for thought, I'll tell you this: There's no way in or out of that building. I hauled ass for almost the whole perimeter and didn't see a single door, window, vent or even pipes leading out of that thing."

Diana's brows furrowed. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I know. I'll see you later." He walked away then, leaving her standing there dumbly. She snapped herself out of her daze and started towards her next class. She didn't notice the snickers from a group of students near the trash can.