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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months ago

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]

THE TIMELINE

“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”

- Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium.

I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC

The gods were angry.

Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.

How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?

Stupid humans, foolish humans.

You didn’t understand.

But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.

The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.

One soul.

They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.

Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.

So they did something about it.

With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.

It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.

He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.

The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.

Bigger, heavier, more powerful.

You dropped your basket and ran.

Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.

You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!

People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.

“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”

The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.

The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.

By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.

As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.

Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?

You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--

Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.

Zeus had landed in Athens.

And you couldn’t find Steve.

Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.

A warning.

The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.

Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.

He had to find you.

The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.

And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.

Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.

He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.

Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.

Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.

Steve didn’t want to die without you.

He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.

A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.

Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.

Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.

You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.

He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.

You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.

A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.

Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.

But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.

Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.

The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.

Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.

“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”

A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.

You couldn’t feel anything.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington oneshot

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pedrostylez · 1 year ago

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Don't

pairing: Joel Miller neighbor!au x fem!reader

summary: No outbreak, not canon in the slightest, Joel Miller as your neighbor growing up. You've returned home from grad school for winter break and Joel sees you in the bar

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count:2k

warnings etc: No outbreak Joel, no Sarah, age gap (like maybe 10-15 years) mentioned but not defined, fingering, dirty talk, angst, anger, drinking, alcohol, and food mentions

A/N: I've set this up to be focused on the smut and angst as much as possible, but there is a back story if it is wanted...I just can't seem to keep things short if I give the whole shpeal ya know? Anyways, I'm nervous when I post anything Joel but we are going to just roll with it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, darlin’.” He groaned, shutting the door with his foot as he pushed you into the bathroom.

The bar was dark, humid with the growing crowd of older men just getting off their shifts to have a couple drinks with their friends. You saw Joel when he walked in, t-shirt splattered with black tar and arms dusted with dry concrete as he stepped up to the counter and asked for a whiskey.

You didn’t really expect him to see you in the corner with your friends, who were all fixed on finding someone for you to go home with. They had been up your ass about finding someone for you, watching you cry over your previous boyfriend in the dorm room until you ran home to sulk there.

It had been easy to find comfort in Joel when you returned home.

And when he locked eyes with you after hearing your one friend laugh too loud, his neutral expression grew dark before taking another sip of his drink, turning to his coworker, and continuing his conversation. He was a master at ignoring you.

But now he was in front of you after following you to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Feeling like a cornered animal, palms sweating with anticipation of what Joel might say to you, you tried controlling your heartbeat.

“What?” You said just above a whisper, glancing at him and then turning around to the mirror.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at you and leaning against the door. “You can’t just come to the bar I’m at.”

You shrugged, picking at your nails for a moment before reaching into your purse. “I got here first. And I didn’t know you would be here; Shelby picked the place, not me.” You say quickly, pulling out a chapstick and looking in the mirror at yourself.

This wasn’t the club like at school, you didn’t have much to fix about your appearance. You weren’t even really all that drunk, only a couple drinks sipped on while your friends chatted away and pointed out people they thought were your type. You had only come because you knew Joel frequented here. You could be done quickly with applying your chapstick and checking your hair, but Joel made you want to take your time.

Joel stepped up behind you, looking at you in the mirror as one hand ghosted down your arm. You shivered at the feeling, pulling away slightly before subconsciously leaning backward into him. “We shouldn’t have done what we did.” He amends, locking eyes with you through the mirror and pulling his hand away. He lets you lean on him, his slow breaths expanding his chest and brushing against your shoulders.

You look down at your purse, picking yourself upright and away from him in an attempt to feign further innocence. You really weren’t the planner of this-you just didn’t tell your friends no when they were suggesting the bar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.”

You snapped your eyes up to him quickly to watch for his reaction. His jaw clenched for a moment before a small smirk climbed up his cheeks. “So we’re on the same page then darlin’.” He drawls, tilting his head around to look at your face. “Nothing can happen again.”

Your breath hitched as his hand hidden from the counter squeezed at your hip, turning to look at him fully. If he was going to say nothing could happen again, you were going to pretend it didn’t happen at all. You stood your ground. “Nothing happened to begin with Joel.”

Like a faulty lightbulb in your dad’s garage, Joel’s face blinked from satisfied to annoyed quickly, trying to control his emotions. “You sure you want to act that way darlin’? Instead of just admitting that we shouldn’t have done it?” He doesn’t wait for your reply as he spins you, pushing you to sit on the counter and allow him to slip between your thighs. “Acting like I didn’t fuck you? Is that easier for you?”

You closed your eyes at his brashness, fingers tightening around the strap of your purse. He was the one that said it shouldn’t happen again. He was the one that was upset you were in the bar with him. He was the one–

“Open your eyes,” Joel says softly, breaking you out of your thoughts and slowly lifting your eyelashes up to him. His face is still stern, but his stare widened as if he wonders what you’re thinking. “You have to stop.” He breathed across your cheek, hand reaching up to slide his fingers through your hair.

You sigh out “I’m not doing anything,” as his fingers curl, pulling at your locks. Your head is tilted back, heart thrumming with anticipation of what he is going to do. Your next inhale is all Joel–dirt and sweat and the malt whiskey on his breath, maybe some of that shampoo you left at his house a couple weeks ago.

“Don’t act like we didn’t.” He confirms, pulling your head to the side to expose your neck. “Even though it was wrong, darlin’. I don’t think I can stand for you just pretending it didn’t happen. Does that make it easier for you?” He is mumbling against your neck, lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

You barely nod, wanting to lean into his mouth, to let him mark you. But you know you can’t-not after the falling out you and Joel had when he told you it can’t happen again. “It didn’t happen.”

You feel more than hear the growl that bubbles out of his throat, the way he quickly presses his lips to your neck and sucks into your skin to leave a blooming red mark has you wincing. His intention is clear; to make you always remember him, even if it hurts you.

A big part of you is willing to let it happen.

His fingers are sliding down your stomach, the friction from your shirt onto your skin leaving a blazing trail. The humidity in the small bathroom seems to increase as his finger sticks to the now exposed skin just above your pants button.

Joel pauses long enough to have your eyes flicking to his, biting the inside of your lip to see if he is going to pull away. His eyes crinkle with his smirk, fingers fully dipping into your jeans and forcing open the button and zipper.

He passes the back of his index over your slit, hot on your skin as he shushes you when you gasp. “You’re okay baby, just wet for me, huh?” He waits for your response, wiggling his finger back and forth to make you squirm away from him. His other hand pressed into your hip pulls you closer, urging you to stay put. “Don’t move away from me.”

You sigh, shutting your eyes tightly to hold back a moan at just the connection. You’ve been wanting to reach out to Joel ever since he told you it couldn’t happen again but held back with the hopes that he would make the first move. Now here you were, desperate for his touch. “Please, Joel.”

Joel pulls his hand from your waistband, yanking down your jeans to your knees before pressing his fingers back to you. Now the pad of his thumb is over your clit, sliding down to your hole to collect the wetness you’ve left and bringing it back. “Don’t pretend that this didn’t happen. It’s the best thing you’ve had.” Joel growls out, pressing harder on your clit.

He’s not asking for a response, but you’re nodding at him anyway to let him know that he is, in fact, the best you’ve had. You feel light headed when he leans forward to connect his lips to yours, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip hungrily before pushing his way into your mouth.

You swear he’s only kissed you to keep your moans at bay as he pushes two fingers into you at once, pausing once he has them completely surrounded by your fluttering walls. “So needy, darlin.” He sighs, beginning the slow pump of his hand, thumb going back to circling your clit.

You groan in frustration at his words, wanting him to stop teasing you. But it’s like he has read your mind, bringing the hand that was keeping your hips from moving up to your jaw, wrapping tightly around your neck to keep you focused on him. “I know baby, I know. I’ll let you finish, don't worry.”

It continues like this, his fingers pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit, your hips meeting his hand with an obscene wet sound that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Joel’s mouth is agape, watching your face while his breath fans over your chin. He won’t let up, keeps encouraging you.

That’s it sweetheart.

So good for me, aren’t you?

You aren’t allowed to forget me this time.

Fuck, you’re so wet for me darlin’.

You reach your hand forward to dig into his forearm around your neck, your orgasm apparent and on the edge of letting go. Joel knows, smiling at you and leaning down again to connect his lips with yours like he knew the sweeter contact that he has deprived you of would make you tip over.

He bites down on your lip as you feel your vision cave in, black surrounding you to the point that you have to close your eyes and try to breathe through it, hearing Joel groan and push his fingers all the way in and hold you in his hand.

When the fog has lifted, his fingers still inside you, he pops off your mouth and releases your neck slowly. “Careful, darlin’.” He murmurs, holding you by the side of your neck as you lean toward him unconsciously.

You blink at him, whining as he slowly removes his fingers from you and brings them to his lips, and sucks on them. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as they trail down from his tongue, wiping them on the hem of his shirt.

He watches you for a moment, chest heaving and adjusting himself before stepping away. It is suddenly cold in this bathroom, the lights too blue, the tile too white. “No more.” He sighs, running the same hand that was just inside you through his hair. Something deep in your gut warms at the thought that he won’t know why he still smells of you later. “We can’t keep doing this.”

You scoff, hopping off the counter and holding on to the edge with white knuckles, hoping to not wobble in front of him. He reaches for you anyway, and you bat at his hand. “You followed me in here, Joel.” You turn back around to the mirror, glancing at him quickly before fixing your hair. There is an obvious glow to you, flushed and not fully put together, but you would pretend. “I’m allowed to be in the bar you’re in.”

Joel sighs, shaking his head and rubbing his neck. He looks stressed, regretful. “I’m too old for you.”

“Fine.” You snap, turning back to him. “Then let me move on how I want.”

He rolls his eyes at you, tilting his head. “What? You’re going to go cry to the other neighbor John then? Let him fuck you next?”

You feel tears prick your eyes at his assumption, but anger flushes your skin as you shove past him and out the door. You don’t owe him an explanation, and you sure as hell aren’t going to defend your case.

You already have, and that’s the real problem. This conversation has been in circles with Joel all of winter break, and you’re tired of it. You step to move to the main part of the bar from the bathroom hallway when Joel has wrapped his fingers around your arm, pulling you back to him. “I didn’t mean it-”

You snarl at him, making his eyes go wide, hand dropping your arm. You put your hand out, creating space between you. “Don’t.” You say quietly, firmly, before turning back around and heading over to your friends to let them know you were leaving.

You weren’t going to stick around for Joel’s sorry excuse this time.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller neighbor au

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seneon · 1 month ago

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🎱 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ send me a character + an au or trope and i will write a drabble about how they kiss you. ( suggestive )

YANDERE ROCKSTAR¡ABYSS RAZOR .𖥔 ݁ ִֶ𓉸 @noirflms

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐙𝐄𝐍,

the rockstar's love for you is just like the relationship of a moth drawn to a flame. he doesn't even know you, not your name, age, nothing at all. you were just an average fan of his band who happens to catch abyss' attention for the rest of the concert. he's never seen such a dream in the crowd before. it's so intense to him that he wants to keep his dream— you, all to himself.

now it's the back of an alleyway right outside the premises of the pub. the tar road is slightly damped from the earlier rain. drizzles still kissed both of your skin but neither of you cared.

you were in such ecstasy that you couldn't help but to embrace your favourite rockstar in a kiss, never noticing the fact that he's so obsessed with you up to the point where he's know your whole life already — a reason why he could find you so casually in a pub. not mere coincidence, it was all planned.

the world forgets that abyss isn't like the other celebrity rockstars onstage. he's not one to kiss random girls who enjoys their music nor is he the type to service his fans. but you.. you are different.

abyss feels rather bold with you, pressing you against the concrete wall before his fingers caressed your jawline and down to your neck, his other hand on your hips to get a feel of your body all around. there's little moans and satisfied hums that you emits from his lips that kisses your own so deeply that it itches his insides to crave more of you.

he's in a daze that he feels he couldn't get out of. but hell, the rockstar is so satisfied of finally having you in his grasp that he wouldn't have to watch you every other day now.

#♱⃬ ͏⠆dark entries #abyss razor #abyss x reader #abyss razor x reader #mashle #mashle x reader #mashle abyss #mashle magic and muscles

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naranjapetrificada · 4 months ago

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Waking up with plans to write but instead Having A Think about translating Izzy's concretes to an AU setting, as well as the particular challenges of writing him in the style I have.

Namely: when you're used to writing deep inside a character's head and finding inspiration in imagery, how the fuck are you supposed to handle this guy? How the fuck is a writer like me supposed to be anything but completely laid flat by him between paragraphs?

Most characters in most stories, even and sometimes especially antagonists and villains, are capable of taking joy in something at some point, even if it's something an audience finds morally or aesthetically or socially repugnant. The simple capacity to enjoy things and imagine past and future times when things have been enjoyed/could later be enjoyed is such a human thing that it's relatable or at least compelling when we see even a loathed villain laugh maniacally or revel in the chance to lay out their plan or swell with "righteous" indignation as they talk or think about the ways the world has wronged them. But how much "joy" (or anything even close to it) do we see Izzy experience or express?

We see him smile a few times (or at least seem amused) I'll grant you, but let's think about those times and what's missing from them. I'm going to focus on season 1 because I don't find his rehabilitation in season 2 to be interesting or compelling enough to translate to this AU.

He seems amused when he's trying to put Lucius "in his place" in s1e5. He smiles creepily during both the "there he is" and "Blackbeard is himself again" moments in s1e10. You can argue that maybe he seems...content during multiple moments where he gets to bark orders and bully people, especially in s2e9 when he gets to briefly play at being a captain. The rare enough moments when we see him doing anything that seems like it's even in the same neighborhood are built around what he does to other people, and about feeling like he has power. But where's the engagement with that?

Is he experiencing enjoyment? Does he bother staying to watch his barked orders carried out? Does he savor his steak more after Fang salts it or does he just keep chewing? Does he relish touching Ed's face or even the way his words make Ed shrink back into himself? What on earth does he feel about seeing his own cause and effect in action? The only thing season 1 Izzy seems to actually like is misery, while also being incapable of truly relishing it. It's a believable phenomenon, but fuck is it miserable for me to write.

And I don't mean like "oh god that character has been through so much and spending time in their head has given me an empathy hangover," because it feels like there's an emptiness to Izzy's season 1 misery. It's a tar pit. It's a black hole that pulls in everything around it, but does so without taking note of its awesome power to do so. It's a character who (at least before season 2) drinks because that's what you do, but not because it tastes good or bad or like anything in particular at all.

In the bit of POV he has in my draft, there's still so, so much sensory detail because I can't write without it. In revision I've tried blunting or inverting those details into things Izzy notices but maybe doesn't extemporize on the way other characters would, or if he does it's to complain. But I'm still not comfortable with doing it or pleased with the results coming from it and I don't know how to get past that right now. It's truly exhausting to be mean and joyless and express zero wonder in the world around you, and while that feels appropriate for the Izzy concretes I'm carrying over to my AU, it's not something I have any idea how to write without drowning in misery myself.

#writing woes #writing process #fic writing #from the firmament #chapter 3 #izzy hands #character meta #he was a fucking nightmare #ofmd #our flag means death

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ask-umbra-au · 6 months ago

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Hi, I'm hyperfocused so here's more of whatever I'm writing for this au.

Currently writing this like it's the camera following behind Lunar because it's the easiest way to do this, I'm going to do the same for Bloodmoon at some point.

Eclipse has been dead for a week. Lunar was the cause Earth had been there but she didn't hear what Eclipse had said to Lunar in his passing. It rightfully shook him to his core. So here he was running .

He swore he heard Eclipse behind him. The taunting call of his name is distant and taunting but within earshot. His attention diverted momentarily so he could focus on his surroundings. He brushed past a tree nearly tripping over himself. He wasn't expecting something to grab him, certainly not something to the side of him. He landed harshly against the ground, a hand over his mouth and pain in his arm.

Fear ran through him as he looked up expecting to see Eclipse ready with the promise of his death, but it wasn't him. He was met with red eyes, a red pentagram in the right and the other a pinkish white. A snarl left the other as the hand was lifted off of his mouth.

“Brother this one's useless! No blood to be found, only tar and oil!” He hissed speaking aloud to no one? Lunar had almost gone to speak before a slightly shriller voice sounded out. The pentagram shifted switching eyes. “Oh it's fine a kill is a kill, we should take it and leave..”

Lunar was quick to shove the other clearly insane animatronic away. “Please don't kill me! I'm not a threat, I swear I’m just looking for a place to hide!” The now closer yet still distant call of his name rang out . He noticed the other perk before huffing at the voice before turning to walk away.

He was quick to stand his breathing uneasy but they'd left him alive. He glanced behind him then back at the red animatronic leaving before running up to them, hoping he could follow behind.

The red one continued on approaching a bunker, reinforced but well hidden. They pushed the door open with ease and Lunar followed behind nothing said between them until the door was shut.

Reddish brown stains dirtied the concrete floor of the bunker, and the couch looked like it had been through hell, though otherwise it was well furnished, looking around Lunar could assume it was one of Moons. From the way tech was scattered about to the security measures clearly put in place though they seemed torn to shreds.

The red animatronic dropped to all fours growling at Lunar after his very brief look around from the entrance. “Why did you follow us?!” They snap, pointing an accusatory claw at Lunar.

“Listen I just need to hide, I promise, it's just Eclipse is after me-” He was cut off before he could even finish.

“And now you've brought him to us! We should tear you asunder for your catastrophic blunder!” They seethed, pushing themselves up to stand before wincing and dropping back down, pulling a hand to their torso with a hiss.

“I didn't mean to, we can stay hidden together or something, I'm sure I can help somehow!” He attempted to plead. Watching as the other animatronic turned away from him, sitting as they brought up their hands. Honestly a little weird in his opinion, but it could be worse.

“Fine! You can stay, but if you get in our way we'll rip and tear till nothing is left”

“Yes, you'll be nothing but a black tar stain once you're slain.”

The sudden speaking had genuinely caught him off guard and made him jump, but it was confirmation he could stay and that's all he needed. Silently he nodded, stepping away from the entrance as he took a breath. “Thanks?.. I'm Lunar by the way , and you are ?”

“We are Bloodmoon.” They nodded in silent approval before they made their way to the once nice looking couch, though now it served as a bed and scratching post to the Bloodmoon twins. At least they had someone they could throw to the wolves if everything goes wrong.

Lunar looked at them watching as they cozied up on the couch. He knew that was going to get confusing, two of them.. he'd have to find different ways to address the two voices , but for now he was safe. He just needed to find a charging station and a bed..

Once he'd gotten situated he sighed, looking up at the ceiling as he brought his hands up to his face. Lightning faintly crackled over them and he winced. He's really fucked up this time, killing Eclipse was probably the worst thing he could've done at least he's hidden for now.

━━━━━━━ •✯• ━━━━━━━

Earth has been searching for hours, Lunar simply up and disappeared without a word. She's searched the entire Pizzaplex just to be safe but there's nothing, she's tried calling and there's still nothing, she simply can't get a hold of him. Dejected and worried, she makes her way to the daycare, pushing the doors open and turning to the security desk where Solar usually sat.

When she enters she was met with her older brothers and Monty in a standoff. Sun stood on top of one of the slides, Moon on the other with two barrels, Solar held two plush balls In his hands and Monty held two water guns; one pointed at Sun and the other pointed at Solar. Sun made the first move opting to climb the play structure. Immediately he was bombarded ,a barrel, a ball, and water hit him in succession.

Solar then turned his attention to Monty throwing a ball at her then turning to face Earth, however turning away he was also hit with water and the remaining barrel. He sputtered, turning back to the three with a lighthearted glare. Returning his attention to Earth he noticed her expression, his lighthearted smile dropped to a frown.

“Earth? What's up?” He asked, walking up worriedly , catching the others' attention as he offered her a hand.

“Lunar’s gone.. I don't know where he went- he was here yesterday, but I've searched the whole PizzaPlex. I've tried calling him. nothing.” She held back tears trying to keep herself together. She truly hasn't felt this worried since Eclipse had shown up.

“What do you mean he's just gone?” Sun asked , partially down from his previous spot. Once he'd climbed down he made his way over, nearly tripping after his initial landing . He looked up at earth tilting his head, his rays drooping.

“He just disappeared!” She lets go of solars hand bringing hers up to her chest as she begins fumbling with her apron.

Moon slides over to the computer pulling up several programs, a worried look on his face as he starts looking for Lunar's signal. “Someone try calling him again, something's got to come up.”

Monty reached for Earth's hands gently bringing them down as she pulled her in for a hug. “It's alright darlin’ we'll find him, you sure he ain't just off training with them stars?”

Solar had taken up the task of calling lunar pulling sun over to the security desk, so they could both try and not be in Monty's way.

“I already checked with Pollux… she hasn't seen him in a little over a week or two.” Earth states pulling her partner into a tighter hug. “I don't think we're upset with each other.. I mean Eclipse happend maybe a week ago, but he seemed fine if not nervous.. he didn't ask for or respond to me offering help”

Solar sighs as he sits down taking up the second computer. “Earth, we're gonna find him, it's only been a day, Things will be fine. Why don't you and Monty head to one of her places? Y'know one of those residences they have up on Airbnb”

Monty nods, laying a gentle hand on her back. He smiled seeing her nod . Slowly he led Earth out of the daycare sparing the other three a look of concern as the doors closed behind them.

Moon sighed pulling up another program approximately the fifth since he's sat down. A frustrated sigh left him as he found nothing, no power signal.No star power, nothing! Lunar was completely off the grid..

━━━━━━━ •✯• ━━━━━━━

Lunar awoke briefly to a figure in his peripheral, sitting up with a yelp he nearly fell out of the bed. Heavy breathing as they looked around only spotting a plate of food on the desk. Too unsettled he decided against it, looking around the room again as lightning crackled at his fingertips.

The door pushed open and there standing with a rather unamused look on their face was Bloodmoon. They patrolled the room for a moment , finding nothing, then glared at Lunar. The silent staring contest continued for a moment before Bloodmoon turned to walked away.

“Wait!” Lunar quickly called out, scrambling from their position on the bed to follow after them. “Let me just stay with you for a while.. something was here I swear.”

Bloodmoon rolled their eyes and continued walking back to the torn couch settling back where they were, all while allowing Lunar to follow. They allowed Lunar to sit on the couch but the moment the shorter even tried getting closer than arms reach, snarling started.

“Okay, okay.. I'll stay here.” Lunar quickly informed as they settled. Their attention turned to Bloodmoon. Then to the TV that remained off. “So, are you also hiding from Eclipse ?”

“Dumb question, coming from someone who's lead the Sun man here.“ The first snarled to turning away.

“Yes we hide from him, him and his Star .. We wish to be far, far from that horrid thing, he also wants us dead for who we are.”

Lunar notes how both voices seem to come together with a frightening snarl to sethe out the word star. Slowly he nods as Bloodmoon glares. “Maybe we can help each other out then? You already know he's after me, but we can maybe help defend each other ?”

Bloodmoon looked over lunar scoffing as they curled up, the pentagram swapping eyes violently before stopping in the right. “You couldn't defend more than a wet blanket, but we will accept your offer. Three is clearly better than two ..”

That last bit left Lunar confused, but they at least had a mutual-ish agreement that eclipse was bad for both of their health. With that they settled leaning back against the couch cushion gathering his nerves so he can grow comfortable and attempt to sleep again.

#tsams #the sun and moon show #tsams earth #tsams bloodtwins #the lunar and earth show #tsams eclipse #tsams frank #tsams solar flare #tsams au #umbra au bloodmoon #umbra au eclipse #umbra au Lunar #umbra au #umbra au Earth #tsams lunar #tlaes lunar #tlaes earth #tlaes

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tran5rightsos · 4 months ago

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not ~quite~ an au question but i read a couple of your fics and now am incredibly curious about where u grew up. obv no expectations for you to actually say but the urban designer in me who knows [redacted city i'm familiar with and am getting the sense you are too] is a bloodhound when it comes to curiosity. and for all the times i've heard this kind of shit goes on and walked through neighbourhoods and gone to a farmers market or whatever, your fics def sparked an interest in what it'd actually be like if i grew up running in different circles to what i did.

however, some were dark and ik writing something is never necessarily an indication of personal experience but i genuinely hope you're doing alright and that the trans/homophobia on page wasn't anything like anything you went through. i hope that you know you're loved and you're cool and a badass in my eyes and even if i've assumed way wrong and you're not a fellow australian, i'd still enjoy hanging out with you and feel like u get it iygwim

hope you're doing well! excited to hear more about this solarpunk universe of yours too!

I'm from rural WA, so idk which particular city you're familiar with but I've only been to Perth. I think most of my city fics are mainly set in suburbs, which I assume are basically the same everywhere. Probably the biggest thing that makes a city different is where the sun sets lmao (inland or in the ocean).

Not all the -phobia in my fics is from personal experience (haven't been run over by a car yet) but obvs a lot is (can't help being raised poor and conservative). Off the top of my head, the homophobia in I Feel Stupid is inspired by real life and things people have actually said to me. Ofc if you're queer, you're gonna know someone who's experienced a lot of physical violence though I don't write fics based on friends' personal lives. Mainly I'd say I prefer to focus on queer feelings around bigotry, like Tar and Concrete Luke feeling stupid for trusting his dad or anger about injustice. I got plenty of feelings about queerphobia.

#ask #ngl idk what solarpunk universe youre referring to #anyway i bet all australian are basically the same #either that or i just stumbled into writing one weirdly accurately lmao #i do have a way of stumbling into things

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icseyic · 3 years ago

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Tar and Concrete has 100 kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions, ily all 🥺🥰😚

#not thirst #au: tar and concrete

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theforgottenmcrmy · 3 years ago

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After All (Part 14/?)

Pairing: Riff X OC Jet Girl

Warnings: Explicit Language, Racism

Summary: If some honesty would prove how serious he was about their relationship to her, and, in a roundabout way, to Tony, he’d deal with the consequences of coming clean about everything to the other Jets in a heartbeat. It was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things, after all.

Word Count: 10,900 ish.

DISCLAIMER

Please note that this is a reimagining of the film West Side Story (2021) and as a result is slightly AU.

Masterlist /// Part 1 /// Part 13 /// Part 14 /// Part 15

A/N: Eyo, happy WSS Disney + streaming day everyone! I’m absolutely living for all the new GIFs that are being made, and I can’t wait to see the ones that are still to come.

If you happen to be new to this story, first of all, hello, welcome. :) Secondly, please consider checking out the Disclaimer (linked above) before reaching out with any comments or asks regarding any concerns you may have. I’m all for an open discussion, but I hope that most of the issues that may be brought up have already been addressed in that post.

Seriously though, thank you all so much for your support and kind words on the last chapter. I’m so thankful for your patience in regards to the plot development and posting speed I’ve been working with recently. This chapter has a bit more POVs from the side characters than usual, but I feel like it was necessary to start setting up the segway into the plots for the movie. In the end, I’m still a bit on the fence about it, but I’m also kind of alright with it, ya know? Meh, maybe I don’t know. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! :)

Part 14: A Couple of Hard Truths

The Jets’ Sunday morning tradition of a few friendly games of basketball in the park became a bit more heated than usual the Sunday that followed the Midsummer’s Dance.

Baby John, who had been sitting out of the basketball games for the previous few weeks, finally threw his name in and was willing to play. A-Rab teased Baby John as he, Tiger, Balkan, Mouthpiece, and Gee-Tar headed onto the court to take on A-Rab’s team. A-Rab had dubbed them the “A-Team” a few weeks beforehand when the specific combination of guys, which consisted of A-Rab, Big Deal, Action, Little Molly, and Snowboy, teamed up and quickly proved to be the team to beat.

A-Rab’s teasing was quickly silenced when Baby John managed to pull a fast one and slip past him not once, not twice, but three times. Not only was he able to catch A-Rab off guard, but Baby John also managed to sink his shot each time.

Diesel smirked to himself as he watched A-Rab narrow his eyes at Baby John. He had thought the new moves that Baby John used looked a bit familiar. When Diesel remembered Riff occasionally cutting out early in the afternoon from the auto shop over the past few weeks, it all clicked.

“Where’d ya learn that?” A-Rab asked Baby John suspiciously, referring to the fast one Baby John had just pulled on him.

Baby John shrugged with a small smile. “I’ve just been practicin’, is all.”

A-Rab scoffed. “Right. Practicin’.”

Diesel leaned back against the large wall just beyond the basketball court and decided to settle in and watch what was likely to be an interesting game. One of his feet came to rest up on the concrete behind him as support. Just to the right of his foot was the blue flower Baby John had painted on the wall well over a month ago.

Ice leaned against the wall beside him.

The two watched in a content silence as the basketball game continued. Baby John swiped the ball from A-Rab and passed it across the court to Gee-Tar, who was able to make a run for it down to the opposite end of the court. He dunked the ball with a satisfying swoosh.

As Gee-Tar, Baby John, and the rest of their team celebrated, and A-Rab began to berate his teammates, Ice asked Diesel under his breath, “Riff runnin’ late?”

Diesel turned to look at him and nodded with a knowing smile. “Said he wanted to fix somethin’ with the books before tomorrow.”

The Wednesday before, many of the guys who knew that Riff was going to meet Roxie earlier that night waited around at the auto shop for Riff to return. All of them immediately noticed Riff’s elevated mood when he finally got back, from wherever he had met Roxie, later in the evening. Riff had smiled and greeted them all pleasantly. Diesel dared to ask him how it went, and all Riff responded with was, “Oh, everythin’s fine, just fine. Roxie will be back next week,” before he had promptly excused himself to go upstairs head to bed. As Riff walked up the stairs, he smiled and hummed some song to himself. When he had reached the apartment door, he all but waltzed inside it and gently shut the door behind him. The present Jets were left staring at the closed apartment door in shock and humor. Though it was obvious to all of them what had happened between Riff and Roxie, it was a bit comical that Riff simply did not address it.

Riff, ya poor, love-sick fool. Diesel knew the feeling, his mind drifting to thoughts of Velma before Ice interrupted his musings.

“Ya haven’t walked Roxie home since Wednesday?”

Diesel shook his head with a smirk. “Have you?”

“Nah.”

Diesel knew beyond a doubt that Riff had been walking Roxie home the previous few nights. Riff must have thought he was being sneaky by tip-toeing into the apartment late at night, but the floors were old. Someone fifty pounds and someone five hundred pounds would cause them to creak with every step all the same.

Diesel glanced across the park and towards the apartment building across the street from the entrance. I wonder…

“Jeez, how hot is it supposed to get today?” Balkan asked no one in particular as he wiped his arm across his forehead to try and wipe off some sweat.

“What do I look like, a weatherman?” Big Deal quipped.

Mouthpiece sighed dreamily. “What I’d do for an ice cold Coke from Doc’s right ‘bout now…”

“Have ya been on a mental vacation the past few weeks?” Action teased. “Valentina’s been chasin’ us out every time we try to go in, remember?”

It wasn’t the first time Valentina had kicked the Jets out of Doc’s. Sometimes the Jets paid for their goods they obtained there… other times they did not. If Valentina ever caught any of them swiping something, the Jets could expect her to refuse them service to all of them for at least a week or two after. But this time around, the Jets hadn’t been welcomed at Doc’s for several weeks, and Valentina showed no signs of letting up, and she had yet to clue them in as to why.

“Oh, right,” Mouthpiece said. “Hey, did anyone ever figure out what set her off this time?”

“Do old bats need a reason?” Big Deal pondered with a chuckle.

Every single one of the Jets denied partaking in any sort of mischievous behavior at Doc’s, at least recently, and all of them had insisted they had nothing to do with Valentina's recent Jet-strike. It was starting to become quite the predicament- Doc’s was one of the few businesses that, generally speaking of course, even tolerated the Jets. Most of the other business owners automatically scrunched up their noses at the Jets if they ever came around. There was also the fact that more and more local businesses were being bought by the Puerto Ricans each day.

Unless the Jets found out a way to smooth things over with Valentina, and soon, yet another spot in the neighborhood would be stolen from them.

A-Rab took advantage of the majority of the players’ distraction to roughly steal the ball from Balkan’s hands. “I ain’t scared of her,” he announced defiantly. “Let’s go to Doc’s when we’re done here. She can’t keep us out forever.”

“It’s your funeral,” Ice half-joked.

“Enough jibber jabber,” A-Rab replied, not bothered by Ice’s mild warning in the slightest. “Let’s get back to the game!”

————————————————————————————

“And to what do I owe this visit?”

Roxie couldn’t help but smile brightly as she stepped aside to let Riff climb through her bedroom window. Once he was fully inside, he stood up straight and shut the window behind him.

“Do I need a reason to see my girl?” Riff asked in response, taking a step closer and gently pulling her into his arms.

His girl. Roxie ignored the butterflies she felt in her stomach as Riff embraced her and she reached up to interlock her fingers behind his neck. “You just saw me last night,” she reminded him patiently.

“It’s been a long night,” Riff noted with a small pout as he rested his hands on her waist.

Roxie tsked playfully. “You poor thing. How did you ever survive?”

Riff rolled his eyes before quickly leaning in to steal a brief kiss. Roxie remained still but did not give him any resistance.

Riff pulled back a second later to gauge her reaction, but his somewhat concerned expression was quickly replaced with a smirk as Roxie grabbed the front of his shirt in her hands. She slowly tugged her to him and drew him in for a longer-lasting and more sensual kiss. The soft grip his hands had on her waist tightened a bit, and that reassured her and encouraged her forwardness.

After a few moments, and only after she was satisfied, Roxie pulled away. She felt Riff’s eyes on her as she stepped away from his arms without a word and continued to clean up her small bedroom. Her original attempt had been interrupted when Riff knocked on her window a minute before.

“What’re ya up to today?” Riff asked curiously, his eyes still on her as she walked about the room.

“I need to go to Doc’s for some things, and then I’ve got work tonight.”

Riff visibly straightened up a bit. “What’re you goin’ to Doc’s for?”

Roxie shrugged. “I need a few things… and I thought I might catch up with Tony.”

“Are ya gonna tell him ‘bout us?”

“If it comes up, I might,” Roxie admitted seriously. “It doesn’t feel right lying to him, Riff.”

Riff decided to drop the subject. Instead he took a minute to look around the room. His eyes raked over the several bags and various clothes that were lying or hanging here and there. “You ought to tidy up ‘round here,” he teased with a small smile.

“What do you think I was trying to do?” Roxie smirked. “I’ve been spending too much time with someone the past few days. I’ve hardly had a moment to myself, let alone to clean.”

Since the evening at the abandoned pier earlier in the week, the two had spent just about every spare moment they could with one another. Riff couldn’t stay away from the guys for too long though, not if he wanted to avoid raising suspicion, and Roxie still had to go to work at night. But whenever Riff could slip away from the guys, whether it was only for a few minutes or for a few hours, and whenever Roxie wasn’t at the factory, the two of them were together.

Though Roxie had been with Riff before, starting to see him again the second time around felt different. They weren’t fifteen anymore; they were older, and perhaps a bit wiser. It all felt so… serious. It wasn’t a word often used to describe either of them, but whenever Roxie looked at Riff, she knew it was the only appropriate word that could be used to describe the level of feelings she held for him. She still wasn’t sure what would happen to either of them in the coming months, and even thinking about the possibility still worried her, but whatever waited for them, Roxie felt better about it all when she thought about Riff being at her side. Roxie knew she was taking some personal risks by choosing to be with Riff again, but if the past few days were even just a fraction of what their future could hold, it was more than worth it.

Roxie watched as Riff took a few steps over to her bed.

On top of the comforter was a small shoebox Roxie had originally kept stowed underneath the bed. Shortly after she moved into the apartment, Roxie decided to condense all the sentimental things she had been carrying with her and store what she still cared to keep in the box. Keeping the items in her bags that she had originally packed them in for the move from her dormitory was no longer feasible. There was no telling what damage might occur to them if they remained loose in a bag haphazardly.

Roxie unfastened the necklace around her neck and picked up an even smaller box that was resting on top of the other items in the shoebox. She placed the necklace in the box gently before closing the lid and placing it back in the shoebox. The necklace had belonged to her mother once and she seldom wore it except on special occasions, like the Midsummer’s Dance. It was a small, dainty silver chain with an even smaller pendant, but the sentimentality outweighed any financial value. Roxie had meant to take it off and return it to the safety of the box as soon as she could after the dance, but after spending a few days at Velma’s apartment, and in light of the even more recent few days of spending a lot of her free time with Riff, it had slipped her mind. Wearing the necklace constantly had been a safe enough compromise in the meantime, but she wasn’t willing to take any chances.

Roxie noticed Riff eyeing the shoebox curiously. He didn’t dare to look at it for more than a few seconds before quickly looking elsewhere in the room, but he wasn’t always as sly as he thought he was.

Roxie laughed once. “It’s alright, you can look. I can tell you're dying to.”

“That obvious, huh?” Riff asked with a chuckle. He took a step closer to the bed and peered into the shoebox. Riff gently moved the smaller box with the necklace aside as he focused on something else in the box. His obviously careful handling further assured Roxie that she hadn’t made a mistake in trusting him with the contents.

“This is what caught my eye,” Riff announced as he carefully pulled out a small photograph. He held the photograph up at his eye level and looked at it thoughtfully. He glanced at Roxie for a brief moment and then his eyes flashed back to the photograph. “You really look like your ma, ya know?”

“Thanks,” Roxie replied quietly, smiling at his compliment. Her aunt had always told her to consider herself lucky that she hadn’t inherited more of her father’s genes. But in all honesty, Roxie didn’t think he’d been unlucky when it came to looks. There was a picture of him in the box too, but she hadn’t looked at it in years, and she doubted Riff would get that far.

Her hunch was proven correct when Riff set the photo aside and picked up the deck of cards and the few chips that had once belonged to Henry. Riff smirked at them before looking up at Roxie. “Made any recent trips to the gamblin’ houses lately, Ms. Thomas?” he questioned.

Any suspicions his words may have suggested were betrayed by his light tone. Roxie rolled her eyes.

“What were your exact words?” Riff asked rhetorically. “‘Never again’?”

Roxie laughed at his poor but humorous imitation of her.

Riff carefully placed the cards, chips, photograph, and smaller box back into the shoebox before he turned to face her once again. “Where’d ya get ‘em?” he pried, referring to the cards and chips.

“Play your cards right, and I just might tell you,” Roxie joked cryptically.

There was likely to be a day when Roxie would feel comfortable telling Riff all about Henry. Riff already knew about most of her past, and Roxie knew large parts of his, but regardless she had still kept some secrets to herself over the years, and she suspected he had done the same.

Riff smirked at her boldness. “Fine,” he relented with a soft smile. “Ya know, you really are a mystery sometimes.”

“Well, we’ve got to keep things interesting somehow, right?”

Roxie closed the distance between them and Riff’s arms once again wrapped around her. This time, her hands came up to rest on his shoulders.

“Somehow I think keepin’ stuff interestin’ is gonna be the least of our problems,” Riff said with a light sigh, his tone suddenly more serious. Though a small smile threatened to break his straight face, there was a worried glint in his eyes that did not go unnoticed.

“We’ll deal with it,” Roxie assured him. “Together, right?”

Instead of responding, Riff leaned in. His lips brushed against hers for a moment before he kissed her fully, and it was more passionate than Roxie had been expecting. When Riff pulled away she was left feeling a bit woozy in the most pleasant way.

“You betcha,” Riff promised with a wink.

Riff reluctantly withdrew his arms to release her from his hold. As Roxie took a moment to straighten out her dress, a thought struck her. “Isn’t it Sunday? Shouldn’t you be at the park with the guys?”

Riff shrugged. “I wanted to see ya first.”

“Well, you should get going,” Roxie suggested. She would’ve loved for him to stay, but time was ticking; she wanted to run to Doc’s before it got too busy, and the Jets would start to get suspicious if Riff kept them waiting any longer. “Will I see you later tonight?”

“I wouldn’t dream of missin’ it,” Riff answered sweetly.

Roxie fought the urge to ask him to stay for a bit longer. Instead, she smiled as she gently directed him to the window. “You know, you could actually use the front door for once, if you tell the guys about us.”

It had been Riff’s decision to keep the fact that they were back together hidden from the rest of the Jets. At first, Roxie couldn’t help but fear it was because Riff was embarrassed by it, but he had quickly assured her otherwise.

Riff opened the window swiftly and turned around to face her once again. “I just want some more time to ourselves, just us,” he reminded her sincerely and patiently. “Without the commentary of the peanut gallery to muck up the mood.”

Roxie understood. She took a step forward and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Riff smiled, and Roxie could’ve sworn she saw the tips of his ears turning a bit red. “Tonight,” he repeated as he climbed through the window and out onto the fire escape.

————————————————————————————

It was another Sunday, which meant it should have been another monotonous patrol shift.

As Lieutenant Schrank sat in the passenger seat of the police cruiser, he sighed to himself and tilted his neck back and forth in an effort to get it to crack. His partner, Sergeant Davis, was beside him, waiting for his cup of coffee to kick in and fighting off the clutches of sleep by gripping the steering wheel with a death-grip.

The vehicle was parked on the street near right along the park entrance. Their position allowed them a perfect view of the Jets, who were on the opposite end of the park, as they engaged in their Sunday morning games of basketball.

Schrank watched the Jets suspiciously.

Everyone in the neighborhood had heard about the fight between the Jets and Sharks at the dance the previous weekend. In retrospect, Schrank should’ve known how likely an altercation between the gangs was to occur. Poor Sergeant Krupke never even stood a chance. Schrank didn’t know nor did he care who had started the fight, he only cared that it had happened at all.

Who did those ruffians think they were? Both gangs strolled in and took advantage of what was supposed to be a lovely evening that some folks in the neighborhood had gone to great lengths to organize. And then they went and spoiled it for themselves and everyone else in attendance despite their lack of affiliation. If the dance organizers were smart, they’d avoid setting up another dance until the Sharks and Jets long gone from the neighborhood. Schrank didn’t even want to imagine how much police presence would be requested if there was another dance in the coming months.

Schrank was still lost in his thoughts when someone walked across the street and passed in front of their vehicle.

It was Riff.

Riff shot Schrank a wink as he passed the police cruiser and entered the park. Any other day, Schrank would’ve hopped out of the car and gave Riff a run for his money and piece of his mind, but Schrank forced himself to remain seated. He’d get one up on Riff soon enough.

He watched as Riff reached the other Jets on the basketball court. The other miscreants greeted their ring leader upon his arrival. Most of them were on the court, but two of them, Ice and Diesel, were leaning up against the large wall just a few yards away.

The damn eyesore. The wall had been littered with graffiti and paint ever since Schrank joined the police force almost two decades ago. A lot of gangs had claimed space on the wall with their own various designs, but Schrank wasn’t blind. He had noticed the additions that had been added to the wall over the past few years.

Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one. He’d heard from a pal in City Hall that the park was to be getting an overhaul in order to keep up with the upcoming neighborhood the New York Committee for Slum Clearance was hoping to establish. And what was the first thing to be cleaned up? That same wall.

The paint job was already scheduled for the next day. First thing Monday morning.

As much as Schrank was looking forward to having the day off, he found himself feeling almost sad that he would miss Riff and the rest of the Jets’ reaction to the changes.

————————————————————————————

Valentina rolled her eyes as the bell rang and the door to Doc’s opened once again. “I already told you, you need to leave. No voy a seguir repitiendome.”

“I can leave if you want me to.”

Valentina looked away from the shelf she had been re-stocking and towards the store entrance. She had been expecting A-Rab and a few of the other Jets whom she had chased out of the store not more than a few minutes before. Instead, it was Roxie, and Valentina smiled.

The door closed behind Roxie and she took a few steps into the shop. “I just wanted to get a few things,” she added.

“Of course,” Valentina replied. “I thought you were someone else.”

“I figured,” Roxie said with a light laugh as she walked over to the shelf Valentina was in the process of restocking. Her eyes went back and forth across the shelf as she began to browse the items. “Is Tony here?”

Valentina took a break from her efforts to restock the shelf and stepped away. As turned and headed to walk behind the counter, she replied,“Sí. He should be up in a few minutes.”

Tony’s parole officer had finally stopped by, and it had sounded like it was about time. Tony mentioned that he had been expecting him for a few weeks. The parole officer seemed to be a nice enough man, but Valentina had only met him once before when he initially stopped by Doc’s to see where Tony would be living. Tony had been downstairs with him for the better part of the past hour.

Valentina glanced over Roxie for any obvious signs of harm. It was the first time she’d seen her in a while. When Riff came to the shop earlier that week to tell Tony what was going on and to ask for his help, Valentina couldn’t help but feel worried about the poor girl. But Roxie seemed unharmed, at least physically. However, she also seemed distracted. “Are you alright? Tony told me what happened with that boy you brought in a few weeks ago. ”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Roxie said while her focus remained on the shelves in front of her.

“People who are ‘fine’ do not miss work,” Valentina pointed out.

“I just had to take care of some things,” Roxie answered simply. She grabbed a few canned goods and turned around to place them on the counter.

Por el amor de Dios.

Valentina had been disturbed to hear about Roxie’s sudden disappearance. Most of the people who went missing in the neighborhood did not go missing for a good reason, and almost all of them were later discovered to have been met with a grim fate.

On the day Valentina told Tony to take off and look for her, she’d been relieved when he came back and informed her that he had found her. Tony hadn’t specified why Roxie had not gone to work or failed to keep up with her other responsibilities, but Valentina had her suspicions.

Although, it was just one suspicion, and it involved the very same boy who had come into Doc’s to alert Tony that she had been missing in the first place.

“Sí…” Valentina trailed off casually as she began to add up the costs on the cash register. “What did you want to talk to Tony about?”

Roxie remained silent. Her eyes constantly shifted and she refused to meet Valentina’s eyes. Whatever was on her mind, she was clearly afraid to come out and say it.

And that’s when Valentina knew.

Valentina sighed disappointedly as she finished totalling Roxie’s items. Roxie still refused to meet her eyes as she silently handed her over some money. It was silent for a few more minutes as Valentina put the cash in the register and proceeded to pack the goods into a paper bag.

Eventually, Roxie asked timidly, “Are you going to say something?”

Valentina shrugged and pushed the paper bag on the counter towards her. “Qué se puede decir? I expected better from you.”

Valentina could recognize a smitten teenager anywhere. She’d been young herself once, and even if she hadn’t, enough of the local teenagers came into Doc’s with their sweethearts for some candy and soda for her to know it when she saw it.

“What happened? You were going to school. What would your mother think?”

“I could still go back to school. I’m trying to save up for the tuition,” Roxie insisted. To her credit, the younger woman did not sound argumentative, but Valentina could tell that she was trying pretty hard to persuade her and paint the situation in the best light. “And I think my mother would like him.”

“Sí,” Valentina laughed bitterly. “I am sure she would love that he is the leader of a gang.”

“Riff’s going to do better,” Roxie said firmly.

“Has he said anything specific about how he plans to do that?”

“No, but he can still change his ways, Valentina.”

“I’ve known Riff since he was six,” Valentina reminded her. “He hasn’t changed much since then.”

“Everyone else in his life has written him off. I’m not ready to give up on him yet.

Valentina watched as Roxie pursed her lips. She could tell that she wouldn’t be able to get any logical thoughts through to her in the girl’s current state. The rekindled love affair with Riff would still be too fresh. She was still clinging on to the hope that came with it and the words Riff must’ve said to her. Valentina wanted to believe that anyone, even someone like Riff, was capable of changing for the better. She didn’t want to think about a world in which that wasn’t true. But she’d also seen enough awful things in her lifetime to know that such thinking was naive. Tony was trying to cut himself off from Riff and the rest of the Jets for a reason, and doing so meant more to him than abiding by a condition that had been set by his parole officer.

And still… Valentina knew what it was like to be in Roxie’s shoes. She knew what it was like to be young and blinded by love. If someone had told her when she was Roxie’s age what she was attempting to tell her, she wouldn’t have wanted to listen either. But that wouldn’t stop Valentina’s worries.

“I hope you are right about him, Roxie,” Valentina said after a few moments of silence. “But I also hope that you do not forget to take care of yourself in the meantime.”

Roxie opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by two pairs of footsteps coming up the stairs.

Tony and his parole officer entered the room. The officer tipped his hat to Valentina and Roxie before walking across the store and exiting promptly without a word.

Tony smiled upon seeing Roxie. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“She wants to talk,” Valentina answered for her. Her tone came across a little more gruffly than she would have liked, but she couldn’t help it. “You have five minutes,” she told Tony then as she pointed at him warningly.

Tony shot Valentina an odd look, but she knew she wouldn’t need to explain her behavior to him. If she was right, Tony was as concerned about Roxie and Riff as she was. Tony recovered quickly and gestured for Roxie to follow him downstairs.

Roxie hesitated for a moment before leaving the paper bag on the counter. Valentina watched as she promptly turned to follow Tony downstairs and to the basement.

When the two were out of earshot, Valentina let out another heavy sigh she wasn’t aware she’d been holding.

She slowly turned around to face the bar behind the counter. Doc’s hadn’t served actual alcohol since before her late husband bought the shop. These days, the beverages Doc’s served were limited to sodas and milkshakes when the season called for it. With Tony’s help at the shop and the hottest point of the summer arriving, a beverage menu change was something to consider again.

Despite the non-alcoholic options that were now commonplace, Valentina still had a stash of her favorite Puerto Rican Carioca rum hidden on the bottom shelves. The bottles were far removed from the sight of the troublesome teenage boys who frequented the shop and they were always there for her on a rainy day.

Perhaps today wasn’t one of those days, but who knew what the future would hold.

Along the back of the shelves and among the empty glasses were several photographs. One in particular, her favorite of them all, was of her and Doc. They were pictured just outside of the storefront. Valentina remembered that day well; Doc’s brothers had come down from upstate to help him fix the brand new store sign to the front of the building. It’d been years since she’d seen them, but it had been even longer since Doc had passed.

What she wouldn’t give to have him by her side once more, especially during these unprecedented times. Valentina was no stranger to hardship and Doc hadn’t been either. There had been violence in the neighborhood long before the Jets formed and there was still likely to be more violence among the new residents after they were gone. Rich people had their own demons.

But now that the violence in the neighborhood was between the Jets and the Sharks, it was becoming harder and harder for Valentina to stay out of the conflict and to remain neutral.

On one hand, Valentina had known most of the Jet boys since they were young boys. She knew many of their true names, not just the names that had been given to them by their fellow Jets. She also knew about the poor family life and poverty that many of them came from that bounded them together.

On the other hand, the Sharks, as they had named themselves, were Valentina’s people. Bernardo and the other young men had come by sea to America just as she had years and years ago. They were seeking a better life for themselves and they had done nothing to deserve the treatment that the Jets insisted on dealing to them.

Whether either group would survive the New York Committee for Slum Clearance’s takeover of the neighborhood was growing less relevant each day. They all seemed content with fighting over the rubble.

If only Doc was still around. Valentina had no doubt he wouldn’t have knocked some sense into all of them.

Valentina must have been lost in her thoughts for quite some time. When Tony and Roxie finally came up the stairs, it took her a moment to realize their presence.

Tony looked at Roxie, and then nodded his head to gesture towards Valentina. Roxie gave him a small nod and slowly approached the counter. Valentina watched their exchange with piqued interest.

Roxie calmly picked up the paper bag containing her purchased goods off the counter. “Valentina?”

Valentina looked at her expectantly.

Roxie took a breath. “Lo siento,” she said hesitantly.

Valentina tilted her head thoughtfully. Roxie’s pronunciation was far from perfect, but she was still touched by the effort.

“I know you’re worried,” Roxie acknowledged. “And I promise I’ll try to be careful.”

Although she was still reluctant, Valentina eventually nodded in acceptance of the peace offering.

With that, Roxie gave her and Tony one last smile before quietly exiting the shop.

When the door closed, Valentina immediately turned to Tony. Though he looked less surprised than she felt, she could tell he was worried too.

“What did you say to her?” she asked.

Tony shrugged and turned his focus to tidying up some product on the shelves nearby. “Just reminded her of a couple of hard truths. But she needed to hear them.”

Valentina could only imagine what the conversation had been. For how uncertain the neighborhood felt lately, at least she was able to take some small comfort in knowledge of the mutually beneficial friendship Tony had with Roxie. No matter what happened with the Jets, the Sharks, and even the New York Committee for Slum Clearance, Valentina firmly believed that they would at least have each other.

“You keep an eye on her, Tony.”

Tony chuckled. “Don’t I always?”

Valentina believed Roxie would try to be careful, but she wasn’t sure if the young girl’s word would be enough. She had been out of the neighborhood for so long; there was no way for her to know what she was getting herself involved with.

Valentina didn’t understand Roxie’s decision to get involved with Riff, let alone the Jets, again at all. Roxie had a really good chance of getting out of the neighborhood and making something of herself. Her mother had tried to do the same, but when she failed Valentina couldn’t help but to have high hopes for Roxie in her stead. And Roxie aligning herself with Riff and the Jets once again jeopardized all of that. How can she not see?

Riff either had a hell of a way with words or Roxie saw something in him that everyone else had missed.

The poor girl would find out the truth soon enough.

————————————————————————————

Later that night, Riff met Roxie outside the factory grounds at the end of her shift.

He smiled upon seeing her, and the gesture was returned, but Riff knew her well enough to be able to tell when something was on her mind. Her smile wasn’t as bright as it had been the past few days.

They were both quiet for the first few minutes as they began to make their way back to her apartment building. The only sound that could be heard were the echoing of their footsteps on the sidewalk that bounced along the walls and down the alleyways they passed.

Riff snuck a look at Roxie out of the corner of his eyes every minute or so. He was waiting for her to bring up whatever was on her mind, but the longer she remained quiet, the more anxious he became.

Eventually, he caved. “Everythin’ alright?”

Roxie glanced over at him briefly before focusing on the sidewalk in front of them once again. “I think so.”

Riff smirked. “That don’t sound super reassuring. How was work?”

“Besides the fact that my boss wasn’t too pleased with me calling off earlier this week, it was fine.”

“What did ya tell him?”

“I told him I was sick.”

Though Riff knew that was a lie, her boss would’ve had no way to prove it. Something else was bothering her. “How’d it go at Doc’s?”

When Roxie didn’t answer immediately, Riff knew he had found the root of her odd behavior.

“Fine,” she answered after a moment. “I talked to Valentina. She figured out what happened between us.”

Now we’re gettin’ somewhere. Riff was sure Valentina had nothing but overwhelmingly positive things to say about him. No wonder Roxie seemed a bit off.

“I also talked to Tony.”

This took Riff by surprise. Although he had known Valentina for as far back as he could remember, they were about as far as they could be from old friends. They weren’t even friendly to begin with.

But Tony was like a brother. Even though they weren’t on speaking terms, Tony had still helped Riff out earlier into the week by finding Roxie. It seemed a bit hypocritical for him to be bad mouthing Riff now.

“Oh… What’d he say?”

“Things I’m sure he’s already said to you,” Roxie replied neutrally. “He’s worried.”

“About us?” Riff questioned.

Riff didn’t exactly expect Tony to throw a celebration at the news that he and Roxie were back together, but he had hoped his old friend would’ve been a bit more supportive than what Roxie was suggesting.

“He said he doesn’t think you’re going to be honest with me,” Roxie clarified. Her eyes were still focused on the sidewalk ahead, and Riff wished she would look at him so that he could get a better idea of what she was thinking.

Tony had some nerve to be trying to meddle in Riff’s love life. Riff had half a mind to go over to Doc’s in the morning and tell Tony just that. Maybe I will.

“I trust you,” Roxie added quietly when Riff never replied. “But Tony did make some good points.”

Riff stopped walking immediately and turned to face Roxie. She mirrored his actions. When Roxie finally looked up at him, Riff noticed the lingering uncertainty in her eyes. That was enough for him to know that he had to fix whatever was bothering her, and he knew he had to fix it right then and there.

“We’ve only just startin’ seein’ each other again,” Riff noted. Cautiously, he took her hands in his. He was encouraged to continue when Roxie didn’t pull away. “I don’t wanna fight. Ask me whatever ya want, I’ll tell ya the God honest truth.”

“Did you ever tell Tony about Grazi?”

That was not a question Riff had been expecting, but it was a fair one nonetheless. “No. I meant to, but, as ya know, we haven’t exactly been talkin’ a whole lot lately.”

Roxie seemed satisfied by his answer. “Do the Jets know Tony is back?”

Riff’s lips twitched as he contemplated his response. “No.”

“Why not, Riff?”

Riff probably should have brought it up to the Jets at some point. And honestly, with how frequent they tended to go to Doc’s, it was nothing short of a miracle that none of them had discovered it themselves. But the fact of the matter remained that Riff wasn’t sure how to explain to the rest of the guys that Tony was willing and planning to turn his back on all of them. It was still something Riff was trying to process himself.

“How could I?” Riff questioned. “How could I tell them Tony doesn’t wanna be ‘round us anymore?”

Roxie considered his question for a moment. “Tell them the truth.”

“Which is?” Riff replied curiously.

“It’s not about them, or you. It’s about Tony.”

Riff couldn’t help but scoff at the thought.

“Do you want to see Tony go back to jail?” Roxie challenged, removing her hands from his.

“‘Course not,” Riff answered sincerely.

“If he gets into trouble with you or the Jets again, that’s exactly what’ll happen.”

Riff looked away from her and turned his head down the street as he thought over her words. Tony had said something awfully similar a few weeks back when he first found him at the auto shop. Hearing it once was one thing, hearing it twice was another. Maybe if Riff heard it enough times, he’d start to actually believe it.

“Riff?”

He looked down at her once more.

“I trust you,” Roxie repeated. “I don’t want to fight either. Just forget I said anything.”

It would’ve been easy to do what she said and move on from the increasingly awkward and frustrating conversation. Over a year ago, Riff probably would’ve happily jumped at the chance to do just that. But this time around, the thought of avoiding topics that clearly bothered her didn’t sit well with him at all.

“No.”

“No?”

“If we’re gonna be together again, then we’re doin’ this right,” Riff explained. “If what Tony said is botherin’ ya, then I’m gonna fix it.”

“Alright,” Roxie conceded, though she still looked understandably confused. “But how?”

“I’m gonna tell the guys about Tony, right after I tell them about us.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow,” Riff confirmed.

Roxie looked at him hesitantly “I don’t want to force you to-

“-You’re not forcin’ me,” Riff promised. “You said ya wanted us to be better, remember? Clearin’ the air ‘bout everythin’ seems like a good place to start.”

“… If you’re sure,” Roxie replied, giving him yet another way out.

It was definitely more convenient for Riff to keep the news about Tony and about the rekindled relationship with Roxie hidden from the rest of the Jets. But he’d be damned if he would allow himself to prove Tony right, especially under the circumstances.

Whatever it was that Riff had going with Roxie was serious. He couldn’t explain why, but things between them felt more serious than they used to. Riff still wasn’t sure what that meant for them, but he knew without a doubt that he was willing to do whatever it took to keep her around and to try and hold up his end of the deal to be “better”. If some honesty would prove how serious he was about their relationship to her, and, in a roundabout way, to Tony, he’d deal with the consequences of coming clean about everything to the other Jets in a heartbeat. It was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things, after all.

Riff didn’t need Roxie’s second chance to change his mind. “I’m sure. And after that, I’m gonna go see Tony and see if we can talk things out.”

Roxie seemed visibly happier at the thought of that, but Riff didn’t blame her. Deep down, he wanted everything to be settled between the three of them just as much as she did.

Suddenly, Roxie’s improved composure faltered once again. “There was one other thing.”

Uh oh. Riff had a feeling he knew just what that thing was.

“What are you going to do about the Sharks?”

There it is. “I told ya I needed time.”

“And I agreed to give you time,” Roxie reminded him seriously. “I know it’s only been a few days. I just want to make sure you haven't forgotten.”

“What ya want is a tall ask,” Riff informed her matter of factly. “I can’t very well tell the guys to stop fightin’ with the Sharks. We’re way past that now.” Even if the Jets listened to Riff, and honestly, he wasn’t sure if they would, the Sharks wouldn’t just forget everything that had happened between the gangs over the past few months.

“Then distract them,” Roxie proposed, as if the answer was simple. “Give the Jets and yourself something else to focus on.”

Riff was intrigued. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“The auto shop, Riff.”

“You mean the same shop that’s got several outstanding debts?” Riff asked her theatrically. “The same shop that the New York Committee for Slum Clearance is just itchin’ to evict us from and take over? Oh, right, that auto shop.”

Roxie wasn’t fazed by his sarcasm. “Think about it for a minute, Riff,” she pleaded. “Recruit more of the guys to help around with the shop. Business will pick up and you could finally afford to pay them and yourself decent wages. But more importantly, you’ll be able to pay back the loans and taxes that much sooner.”

Riff mulled over her words.

“You get the shop in the green again,” Roxie continued, “and then you could buy it from your uncle.”

Riff scoffed. “Like he’d let me. If the shop actually starts turnin’ a profit, he’ll probably just come back to the city.”

“Then you can threaten to leave. If the shop’s business improves because of you and the other guys, I guarantee you it won’t stay that way if your uncle starts managing it again. You know what it was like.”

Riff was very familiar with what the reputation of the auto shop was like when his uncle had managed it. It still had a poor reputation but it had come some way since his uncle let him have a go at running it.

The auto shop was the only one around for a few blocks. Though it was most likely inevitable, no other newer shops had set up in the nearby area, at least not yet. The rich folks would start moving into the new apartments they were building soon enough. When those folks asked about who would be best to see to the problems with their fancy cars, who would they trust? Brand new shops who had just moved in, or an existing shop with an already established reputation? The world was changing, but Riff still believed in the power of word of mouth.

But as for Riff actually owning the shop? That seemed like a lot of work. It seemed even more paperwork.

On the other hand, if he was able to buy the shop, it wouldn’t matter what happened with the Sharks or whatever the New York Committee for Slum Clearance decided to do with the neighborhood. The Jets would finally have a permanent place to call their own, one that the Sharks wouldn’t be able to take over and one that the New York Committee for Slum Clearance wouldn’t be able to evict them from.

Wasn’t that the main reason why the Jets had started fighting with the Sharks and all the other gangs that had come before them in the first place? The Jets needed their territory, but even more so, they needed to stick together.

They wouldn’t have to be content to just survive. They could actually thrive.

Roxie must’ve noticed the gears turning in his mind. “It’s just something to think about,” she said gently.

Bit of an understatement. Riff was already anticipating another restless night with only a few hours of actual sleep. “I’ll think about it. I promise.”

Riff wasn’t going to promise her anything else about Tony or about the Sharks, but he was willing to do what she suggested- he’d at least try.

Roxie reached out and grabbed Riff’s right hand. She slowly began to resume walking down the sidewalk and Riff happily allowed her to lead him.

Maybe things will be different this time, Riff wondered with a soft smile. He snuck another glance at Roxie out of the corner of his eye. Communication had never been one of their strong suits, but he felt pretty content with how they had handled that entire conversation.

“Say,” he said as a smile formed on his lips, “When’s the last time I took ya on a date?”

Roxie deadpanned. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Later this week, you and me,” Riff proposed. “Tell me the next night ya don’t gotta work, and I’ll be there. I’ll take of everythin’.”

Roxie put on a show of contemplating his idea “Hm… Deal.”

Riff felt her grip his hand just a little bit tighter. In response, he intertwined his fingers with hers and took a step over to lessen the gap between their sides as they continued on their way.

When they finally reached Roxie’s apartment, Riff wasn’t surprised to find the entrance free of anyone else given the lateness of the hour.

“Would ya like an escort up to your apartment?” Riff offered with a cheeky smile. He was unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease her.

Roxie rolled her eyes and Riff noticed a slight blush rising in her cheeks. “I think I can manage from here.”

Spending the night with Roxie under those circumstances was not at the forefront of RIff’s mind. Though they were not strangers in that sense, they had only just gotten back together. And as much as Riff felt confident that Roxie needed more time to even consider it, Riff knew he did with absolute certainty.

Although, Riff would be remiss to deny that he wanted to spend as much time as he could find with her. Even if that meant spending a night being kept wide-awake by his troubling thoughts while she slept blissfully unaware by his side.

“I’ll see you at the shop tomorrow morning,” Roxie informed him. “But I’ll have to leave a bit earlier than usual. I’m supposed to be meeting Velma for lunch.”

As she should. Riff wanted to spend as much time with Roxie as she was willing to allow, but he had never been one to monopolize her time, and he wasn’t going to start anytime soon.

Besides, Riff was already starting to think that telling the guys about her and about Tony’s return would be a lot easier if Roxie was not present for those conversations.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow, Doll,” Riff bid her, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily despite how long had passed since he had last used it. He leaned down and gave Roxie a gentle kiss. Despite the many, many kisses they’d shared over the previous few days, Riff was still getting used to the funny, floating feeling they left him with.

Roxie’s dazed smile indicated she was feeling similar things as well. She gave him a remorseful look before turning and walking towards the front entrance.

Riff held on to her hand as she took a few steps away and didn’t let go of it until he had to. With a smile on his face, Riff stood for a few more seconds and watched vigilantly as Roxie entered the apartment building. Even when the doors closed behind her, the glass doors allowed him to see as she proceeded up the stairs and ultimately disappeared from his view.

If Riff’s thoughts about what Roxie had brought up or the plans he had for their date later in the week wouldn’t keep him awake that night, he knew the idea of seeing her in the morning would.

————————————————————————————

“Remind me again why we’re doin’ this?” Baby John asked innocently. “Didn’t Valentina kick ya out yesterday?

A-Rab sighed frustratedly.

Just like the one before, the day before them was going to be one of the hottest days that summer. Despite it only being late morning, the sun was already high in the sky and sweat was already forming on the back of Baby John’s neck. He was beginning to regret his decision and wished he had just gone to the auto shop. It wouldn’t have been much cooler there, but at least some of the other guys would be there to distract him from the thoughts of the nearby unbearable heat. Misery loves company.

Baby John wasn’t even sure how he had been roped into helping A-Rab, of all the Jets.

They were standing on the sidewalk across the street from Doc’s. Whatever A-Rab was going to request of Baby John, he didn’t have a particularly good feeling about it.

“Yeah, the old bat kicked me out,” A-Rab admitted begrudgingly.

A-Rab had already told Baby John about his attempt to enter Doc’s the previous morning after the basketball games at the park. Valentina had all but shoved him out of the door and locked it behind him until he got the hint to leave. A-Rab said she had been in a bad mood, but since Baby John had actually beaten A-Rab and his team in basketball just before that, he couldn’t help but wonder if A-Rab had been in a bad mood that had contributed to the situation as well.

“So, what makes ya think she won’t kick me out?” Baby John asked.

“‘Cause you’re gonna give her these.”

A-Rab produced a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and presented them to Baby John with much ado.

Where did those come from?! Baby John was confused. “What-”

“Ya know how chicks are,” A-Rab told him dismissively. “They love flowers… don’t matter what age they are.”

Baby John was still confused, but he took the flowers from A-Rab’s outstretched hand anyways. He glanced down at the flowers and quickly noted that, like him, they wouldn’t be faring too well in the heat. Baby John looked across the street towards Doc’s. The store was already open for the day and the idea of walking into the store with a bouquet of flowers to present to Valentina in front of other customers made him even more nervous.

“Ya sure about this?” Baby John asked A-Rab apprehensively.

“Trust me,” A-Rab said.

Baby John wanted to snap back a reply, but was distracted when A-Rab put a hand on his shoulder and began to push him across the street. The pair narrowly avoided getting swiped by an oncoming truck, but A-Rab wasn’t fazed. Baby John shot the driver, who had been forced to slam on their brakes, an apologetic look as they finally reached the sidewalk right outfront the store entrance.

A-Rab opened the door and shoved Baby John inside unceremoniously.

With wide eyes, Baby John scanned the store. Much to his relief, there were no customers.

Unfortunately, but as to be expected, Valentina was standing behind the counter. She looked at him strangely with her hands on her hips.

Sheepishly, Baby John forced his feet one in front of the other to slowly approach the counter. He avoided meeting Valentina’s eyes when he reached it. Instead, he silently placed the flowers lightly upon the counter’s surface.

It was quiet.

Before Baby John could turn and dart out of the store, Valentina cleared her throat.

“Are these from you, John?” she asked. “Or from him?”

Baby John followed the line of sight from her finger, which was pointed behind him, towards the storefront window. A-Rab wasn’t even trying to hide his presence. His face was all but pressed up against the glass and his hands rested over top of his head in an attempt to shield the sun from his eyes and see more clearly into the store.

Baby John looked back at Valentina with an apologetic look. “They’re from all the Jets, really.”

Valentina seemed unmoved and she looked down at the flowers that were still lying on the counter. Eventually, she looked back up at Baby John and gave him a small smile. “You are welcome in my store. He is not.”

Baby John nodded. It wouldn’t be what A-Rab wanted to hear, but at least he had done his part and tried to help him solve the problem. If A-Rab wanted to try something else to get Valentina to welcome the rest of the Jets to Doc’s again, he could recruit one of the other guys. “I’ll let him know.”

Baby John took his cue to leave, turned, and made a beeline for the exit. As he opened the door, Valentina called to him, “Tell your mother I said hello!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Baby John called back as he exited the store.

Once the door was closed behind him, A-Rab looked at Baby John expectantly. “Well?”

Baby John shook his head slowly and A-Rab cursed.

“Let’s go to the shop,” Baby John proposed. He was anxious to get away from Doc’s and to distract A-Rab from what was sure to be a self-destructive train of thought that would only land the Jets in even more trouble with Valentina.

But A-Rab wasn’t willing to listen to him. Instead, the other Jet pressed his face back up against the window and continued to peer inside.

“What’re ya doin’?” Baby John implored frantically.

“Watchin’ to see if she throws the flowers away,” A-Rab answered simply.

Baby John frowned. “She’s not gonna throw ‘em away.”

“Right, but if she does throw the flowers away, I’m gonna sneak in there and grab ‘em,” A-Rab replied. “I actually paid for those. If she don’t want ‘em, I’m gonna give ‘em to Dot.”

Baby John watched A-Rab for several long moments, painfully aware of the passers by giving them bizarre looks. When A-Rab didn’t budge, Baby John sighed defeatedly and stepped beside him to look through the window as well.

Thankfully, Valentina’s focus was not on them. Instead, her back was turned as she grabbed a glass from the shelves behind her and filled it with water from the faucet behind the bar. When she was satisfied with the amount of water in the glass, she turned off the tap, set the filled glass on the counter top, and went to grab the flowers.

“There, she’s likes ‘em,” Baby John said. He patted A-Rab on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Now, just wait a minute,” A-Rab insisted, waving him off.

Baby John sighed again and looked through the window once more. Though the shop had been empty when he had been in there, besides Valentina, he saw the door towards the right wall of the shop open and reveal a second figure who entered the room.

Baby John and A-Rab continued to watch as the young man approached the counter and set the boxes he had in his arms down. He had to have been around their age, but he was tall, way taller than either of them. Baby John didn’t recognize him.

A-Rab gasped. “What the-”

Valentina looked up at the young man frantically, and said something to him quickly. Then, her head shot over to the storefront window, where A-Rab and Baby John were caught watching them red-handed.

Something almost like fear crossed Valentina’s face. Baby John didn’t have much time to wonder what that meant before A-Rab harshly grabbed his arm and began tugging him along.

“Who was that?” Baby John demanded as he helplessly allowed A-Rab to drag him down the block.

“Less talkin’, more walkin’,” A-Rab replied, tone clipped.

It was quite the turn around from A-Rab’s behavior just moments before and it put Baby John off quite a bit. “Where we goin’?”

“The shop. Now stop dilly-dallyin’!”

————————————————————————————

Ice had gotten to the shop pretty soon after Diesel had opened the garage door for the day. When he had arrived, he wasn’t surprised to learn that Roxie was already there.

Riff and Roxie had been up in the apartment for a few hours. Meanwhile, Ice kept Diesel, Snowboy, and Gee-Tar company on the shop floor.

There was only one car that the guys were working on that day. It was actually a cab. Diesel had mentioned to Ice that the owner had a whole string of them, and if they were able to fix the engine problem with the one cab he had dropped off, the guy was likely to give any future business to them.

Gee-Tar was rambling about the movie he’d taken his girl to see the night before when the apartment door opened suddenly and all four pairs of eyes shot up to the landing.

Ice watched with a smirk as Riff closed the apartment door behind them and followed Roxie down the stairs. They remained silent as they walked but Ice could tell the looks they gave each other, which weren’t as discreet as they thought, were worth a thousand words.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Roxie seemed a bit surprised by the guys’ presence.

“Have a good day, fellas,” Roxie told them quietly with a smile after she recovered. As she walked towards the open garage door to exit the shop, she gave each of them a glance.

When Roxie met Ice’s eyes, he gave her a nod. “See ya.”

Once she was gone, Ice’s attention turned back to Riff. He was still standing where he had been, just at the bottom of the stairs. He remained unmoved as he stared at the garage door Roxie had just exited through.

Ice found seeing Riff pine after Roxie truly amusing. It was a welcome change in attitude compared to the anger and frustration that had seemed to be commonplace for Riff over the past year or so.

If Riff was happy, Ice was happy for him. Still, he couldn’t help but get in some jabs whenever the opportunity presented itself. “Everythin’ alright, boss?”

Diesel gave Ice a knowing look as he wiped oil off a wrench with a rag. He looked to Riff as well and patiently waited for his response.

Riff continued to stare at the open garage door for a few moments before he realized he had been addressed. “What?” he asked dumbly, his eyes finally meeting Ice’s.

“Somethin’ on your mind?” Ice pressed, unable to hide a small laugh in his voice.

Gee-Tar and Snowboy had stopped what they’d been doing and were now watching Riff as well.

“Huh? Oh, no,” Riff replied hastily. He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his feet as his eyes fell to the shop’s floor.

Despite the temptation, Ice was willing to drop the subject. The other guys moved to get back to inspecting the cab.

“Ya know what?” Riff said suddenly, immediately grabbing the attention of the other four guys once again. “Yeah, there is somethin’ in my mind.”

Silent looks were exchanged between Ice, Diesel, Snowboy, and Gee-Tar, but Riff didn’t notice.

“To hell with it,” Riff cursed to himself. Louder, he announced, “Me and Roxie are together again.” When no one responded, Riff eyed them all curiously. “Yous got nothin’ to say?”

Finally, the room erupted into some light laughter. Riff’s curious expression turned into one of confusion as he continued to look between all of them.

“With all due respect Riff,” Diesel began as he pretended to wipe a stray tear from his eye, “you’d have to be blind to miss that.”

Riff's eyes widened and he looked truly shocked. “Ya already knew?!”

Additional laughter spread over the room at Riff’s question. Riff watched Ice, Diesel, Snowboy, and Gee-Tar as they laughed even more and held onto their sides. Eventually, Riff relented, shook his head, and let out a chuckle.

“Ya aren’t always as sly as ya think, Krazy Kat,” Ice told Riff. “But if you bein’ with Roxie is good for you, it’s good for us, really.”

“Thanks,” Riff grumbled, although a smile was on his face. “Ya know, there’s somethin’ else I want to talk to yous about. The other guys ought to hear it too, but since you’re already here, I figured I should at least let all of ya know.”

The other four young men calmed down and straightened up a bit as they waited for Riff to continue with curiosity. Riff looked at each of them, and Ice could’ve sworn he almost looked nervous. He definitely seemed a bit more bothered than he had just a few moments ago.

Riff opened his mouth to speak but he was forced to shut it immediately when two more bodies ran into the shop- A-Rab and Baby John.

Baby John yanked his arm free from A-Rab’s grip, leaned over, and put his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breath. A-Rab was panting himself, but whatever it was that had them in such a state, it must’ve been more important to him than his fatigue.

“What the hell happened to ya?” Ice asked them with a raised eyebrow and modest concern.

“Riff!” A-Rab exclaimed. He paused to take a few deep breaths. “You’ll never guess who we just saw at Doc’s!”

Ice looked to Riff, whose concerned expression immediately fell and was quickly replaced with one of panic.

When Riff said nothing, Ice looked back at A-Rab. “Who’d you see?” Ice demanded.

“Tony!”

“What?” Diesel’s brows furrowed.

“No way,” Snowboy dismissed.

Gee-Tarr shook his head in disbelief.

Ice looked back at Riff in order to gauge his reaction. The panicked look never left Riff’s face, and a bad feeling started to sink into Ice’s gut. “Tony’s out of prison?” Ice asked, moreso to Riff than to anyone else.

The panicked look on Riff’s face was joined by what appeared to be nervousness as Riff’s eyes once again fell to the shop floor. It certainly was not the reaction Ice had been expecting from Riff, who he knew had been looking forward to Tony’s release for months. For god’s sake, Riff had barely stopped talking about it the whole year… up until a few weeks ago.

…

Oh.

With all that had been going on with the Sharks, how had Ice missed that? He looked at Diesel, Snowboy, and Gee-Tar, who looked as though they were wondering the same thing.

Before Ice could form a response, a third Jet came dashing into the garage.

It was Mouthpiece.

Mouthpiece was almost out of breath as Baby John and A-Rab, both of whom were still working on catching their breaths. Mouthpiece removed his cap and wiped the sweat off his forehead before he replaced it on top of his head once again.

“Riff! You’ll never believe what I just saw!” Mouthpiece announced loudly.

“We already know,” Ice informed him, his tone coming out a bit more coolly than intended as he glanced at Riff. Riff met his eyes regretfully but he said nothing. “Tony’s back.”

“Huh? Tony’s back?” Mouthpiece frowned. “No, not that. Well, maybe that. But what I saw- the park- by the basketball court- the wall!”

Mouthpiece’s poor excuse of an explanation finally earned a reaction from Riff. His face shifted quickly from panic to concern and his jaw clenched.

“What about the wall?”

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please feel free to interact or let me know your thoughts. If you would like to be added to the taglist, please feel free to reach out as well. :)

Taglist: @whisperofsong @disguisedbassethound @lingerasthesmokeoncedid @westsidelegendary @sallymakesstuff @youngteenagehearts

Part 15

Masterlist

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jeonqqin · 4 years ago

Text

man up. [m] | pt.4

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: future smut, language, reader being followed at night, not much, Chan’s sexy ass arms?

A/N: the big day!! also there’s a little scene for binnie’s birthday (even though it was yesterday)

▸ request

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

—UNEDITED

Your mind was running circles around you, everything a blur.

Talking on the phone with Chan lifted your mood exponentially, but there was still something that ticked in the back of your head. With the way your conversation with Chan ended, you weren’t sure if you should’ve been jumping for joy or hiding away under your covers in hopes that no one would ever find you again.

“So, I was wondering,” His voice drawled over the phone.

You held back the urge to shiver in order to hear exactly what he had to say. Granted the wind had stopped, but the night air was slipping through the thin fabric of your clothes and making up for its absence.

“Yeah?”

You heard Chan chuckle—surprisingly enough it sounded nervous.

“Would you ever date a guy like me?”

And just with one question, you almost fell forward off of the swing.

“What are you saying?” You uttered, eyes staring out at the bright red slide in front of you that had been dulled by the darkness.

Chan cleared his throat, “Do you want to go on a date with me, Y/n?”

You had said yes too quickly, not just in the sense that it was embarrassing, but also because after you hung up, it really occurred to you that you would be going on a date with Bang Chan.

A date.

Had you even been on a date before?

You wrapped your arms around your body as you contemplated the whole situation. It was dark outside despite the street lights, and even then, they were too dim to really be doing their job. But you hardly noticed, too immersed in your own head to worry about the dark or the possibility of meat-heads roaming around looking for their next meal.

Your skin prickled, your subconscious attempting to warn you about the shadow that lurked only a few feet away.

The date. It should be easy; smile, talk to him without vomiting, and be sure not to make a complete fool of yourself in front of the single most attractive man you had ever seen. Piece of cake.

You mentally cursed Minho for possibly scaring you for the rest of your young life. Could you hold it over him if his years of desensitizing you turned you into a lonely cat-lady?

No—he’d already taken that title, and you weren’t sure if the universe was ready to support two financial tragedies within the same family.

The sound of footsteps fell to deaf ears, the lights of the dorms were able to be seen from your place on the street, and there wasn’t a shred of dread in your naive body. Not even when the sound of sneakers padding against tar got closer—too close for comfort had you been paying any attention. Maybe you were too tired, or your head was too preoccupied to focus on the approaching body behind you.

Not until there was a hand wrapping around your mouth and another pinning your arms to your sides. In your shock, you could feel the flex of your aggressor’s biceps—he was strong, and it had your heart stopping in your chest.

You wiggled the best you could in his grip, but the man’s hold was too constricting, and you suddenly wanted to cry. How stupid could you have been to let something like this happen?

Your heart pounded in your chest as you plead against the calloused hand, your legs shaking like jelly. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear—mint, the one thing you could focus on was that his breath didn’t reek of alcohol like you would’ve assumed.

“Wow…” He released a breath with a small chuckle, and your brows furrowed.

The voice was familiar—

“You really are stupid. Do you realize that you would’ve been so dead if I wanted to like—take advantage of you and dump your body in a river, or something?”

You squirmed out of the stupid stupid strong arms of your stupid stupid ex-friend, you eyes set in a harsh glare as you brought your fists down on his firm chest.

“You fucking pig!” You screeched with rage, fists clenched even when he grabbed your wrists in between fits of laughter. You actually wanted to stab a knife into his eye. “I can’t believe you did that! I thought I was going to die, asshole!”

Changbin snickered with a mocking coo, “I know. Poor baby...”

“You’re a sadistic bastard.”

“Just think—” he released your hands, only to block the oncoming smack that you sent. “You won’t make this mistake again, stupid-head.”

You huffed, wrapping your arms around your body again and continuing forward, your pulse more intense than it had been before. “What if I had gone into cardiac arrest or something? You would’ve been fucked in more ways than one. Do you know what they do to rapists in prison?”

“Y/n,” Changbin chuckled under his breath, meeting your stride easily. “I didn’t rape you, in case you didn’t notice.”

“But if I died, that’s what it would’ve looked like! And suddenly you’re in concrete hell.”

Changbin shook his head. “God—just be more careful next time you decide to walk alone in the middle of the night. Call one of us or something.”

Guilt nawed at your skin, and you sent him a sulky pout. He was right. If something really had happened, you would’ve been fucked. Unless the guy was thinner than a twig and had a shit center of gravity, your chances of getting out of that kind of danger was unlikely. Damn Changbin and his infuriatingly true points.

You let out a groan as the boy beside you casually slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Fine. You’re right. Happy?”

Changbin’s head turned to you and he released another coo, his forehead pressing against yours and successfully annoying the shit out of you. How everyone else dealt with him was a true mystery.

He was supposed to be older than you?

The pitch of his voice raised, “Of course I am.”

You wrenched out of his grip, swatting away his reaching hand and stepping out of his range.

Perhaps there would be a murder tonight.

“Stop being a creep and act like a normal person for once, Bin.”

Without even looking back, you could feel the pout on his lips. But he only let out a quick whine before following after you, his hands stuffed into his jeans.

You had hardly noticed before, but he was dressed strangely—he was in a torn to shit grey t-shirt, multiple splotches of something black plastered across his torso just above the ragged seam of where the shirt ended, holes scattered everywhere exposing glimpses of his firm chest. The jeans weren’t any better, almost completely colored black by the same substance on his shirt, baring rips at the knees and not the ones you get solely for fashion.

“By the way…” You drawled, twisting around to rake your eyes over him one last time. “What were you even doing before this?”

Changbin glanced at his attire and shrugged, the smallest glow of red covering his ears. “I’ve been working on cars for some extra money.”

Your eyebrow raised. “At night?”

“It’s the only time I have free between producing new songs and school.”

Nodding you faced back towards the dark street in front of you.

Changbin had never sparked you as a manual labor kind of guy, let alone someone who could fix cars and get paid for doing it. But after taking a moment to think about it, it made sense. He fit the scene, so to say, and it somehow added to the edgy look he already had going on for him.

You didn’t know as much about your friends as you probably should’ve.

“So you guys actually got the recording room done? Are you and Chan using it now?” You asked nonchalantly, a terrible attempt to slide Chan into the conversation. Changbin must’ve known a few things about Chan that could help you quench your nerves for the upcoming date.

Changbin sent you a sideways look, letting you know that you weren’t as slick as you thought you were.

“Ah, Chan…” He hummed, the two of you finally getting close enough to the university to discern the different buildings. “What’s up with you two?” He asked hesitantly, a hint of a frown on his brow.

“Well—I mean, I like him a lot.” You fumbled for the right words, though you knew that Changbin wasn’t one to rush you. As annoying as he could be, he was a good listener. “And he just asked me out—”

“He did?”

Well, you thought he was a good listeners

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Earlier he asked if I wanted to go out on a date or something—”

“Or something?”

You shoved him to the side, though his heavy body barely moved an inch.

“Would you stop interrupting me? I’m serious.” You huffed, frustrated.

“I am too.”

You froze—huh?

Your eyes searched his for a moment, his words not as comforting as you wanted them to be, instead his questioning only made your stomach twist in more knots than they had been in before. You really didn’t know anything about Chan, and talking to someone who did only made you hesitant about continuing with this first date of yours.

Sure, you weren’t one to believe rumors about people you barely knew—but it was the fact that you barely knew Chan that made you so nervous.

“Well I’m a little surprised that Chan asked you out.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“Uh…” Changbin paused, searching for his next words carefully with a contemplative hum. “It’s nothing bad. I mean, Chan’s one of the best people I know.”

“But…?”

He stopped to wait for you to run your student ID along the sensor, listening to the automatic click of the door and using it as a stall for time. He was trying to find the right way to word what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to blindside you, nor did he want to sabotage his friend by telling you something that might steer you away.

He waited for you to take a step inside the dorms before continuing with a hushed voice.

“Chan is… very selfless let’s say. He doesn’t really take the time to date per se. He’s work oriented. Not to say he hasn’t had girlfriends before, but they never really—”

“Became anything?”

That was what you had been contemplating. If the date went wrong, could you talk to Chan afterwards? Would he still be that person you could call if you wanted to step away from the world? You couldn’t find yourself feeling upset if that happened to be the outcome.

But with the small look of suspicion that Changbin sent, his brow curling upwards, you quickly backpedaled.

“He mentioned something about it while we were on the phone.” You rushed to save yourself.

Taking your answer without question, he stopped. You were both standing outside of your room, the quiet hallway encasing the both of you and chilling you to the bone more than the night air had. Changbin bit his tongue.

“Chan is an amazing friend. But I’ve never really seen him as a boyfriend before.” He sighed, scratching his cheek. “And as much of a little shit you are… I care about you enough to want you to be happy.”

“Is this you warning me?”

“No.” His mouth formed a thin line, he really had no idea how to word anything. It was beginning to frustrate him. “Just be aware that he isn’t the most observant guy when it comes to himself, so be patient with the guy.”

Okay, that helped you none whatsoever.

You sighed, pushing your dorm door open and nodding finally for Changbin.

“Well, thank you, Bin. For walking me and all that…”

Your gratitude was pitiful, but Changbin smiled wide nonetheless, glad that he could help you out despite his advice being absolutely terrible.

“Anytime, Y/n.” He ruffled your hair before you could stop him. “But next time, call me before you decide to be stupid and walk alone agian, okay?”

You smiled.

“Yeah. I promise, Bin. Thanks—seriously.”

As you closed the door, you missed the way Changbin’s lip quirked, his ears once again shining a red in the dim lighting of the hallway. He chuckled, shaking his head.

He wished both Chan and Jisung luck—you really were a handful.

“So this is a date?”

You had absolutely no idea what to say, your nervous gaze on the road in front of you as Chan glanced over at you from his place behind the wheel of his beloved Subaru Crosstrek—he had gone on a cute spiel about how he managed to scrounge up enough money from producing his tracks to afford the down payment on the car. It was cute only because he giggled every time he mentioned some miniscule detail that wasn’t necessary for the development of the story.

He always apologized when he got off track, but those were your favorite parts.

And you still had no idea what to say.

“Yeah, Y/n. A date. Have you ever been on one of those before?” He joked, taking another turn into yet another neighborhood.

He had to have gone down at least four streets already—

“Does a slow dance at a mediocre prom count?”

“A what?”

You snorted, feeling the telltale heat of your cheeks reddening. You were such a loser, the best you could do was tell him about your failed relationships?

“I mean, Jung Wooyoung was pretty hot, so I guess it could count. Granted, Minho stepped in before he could kiss me at the end of the song.”

“You’re kidding.” He looked close to ripping his cheeks with how wide his smile was stretching.

His eyes flickered to you and a shiver ran down your spine at the way he took one hand off the wheel and leaned against the center console. You were either terrified of him crashing or really turned on by the way his biceps bulged at the movement.

You cleared your throat, “Minho was always really adamant about keeping me away from all the funny business.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately not. My brother sucks.”

Chan burst out laughing. “That’s why he pulled that, ‘what are your intentions with my baby sister’ act?”

“He didn’t.”

“He did. But he backed off so quickly, I was convinced that it was a joke.”

You nearly choked, your eyes widening as you suddenly threw yourself around to look at him, unable to feel surprised at the way he was already looking at you with a charming smile.

“He did what?”

“Yeah,” Chan shrugged, shifting back to look at the road. “I asked him why it mattered and he just kind of backed off.”

That was right—Minho was scared of Chan.

You would never forget that fun fact for as long as you lived, and it was all thanks to Bang Chan. It really had you rethinking the whole reason why you were nervous in the first place. Chan was the only person in your life that had managed to get rid of stress rather than add to it, and you were obviously worried over nothing. Chan was amazing.

And you were crazy.

You laughed, catching Chan’s attention, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips without you noticing. How you had managed to have him whipped within a matter of days was a complete mystery to him. But there he was, staring at your lips and risking his damn life while doing so. Chan was hopeful, he wanted things to go well this time, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure of that.

“Where are you taking me, you maniac?” You giggled in exasperation as he took yet another turn into a neighborhood, house stacked upon house.

Sure, it was nice to drive around with him, but you were beginning to get antsy. Even more so as Chan continued to look over at you and smirk, his smile as infuriating as it was attractive.

“We’re almost there, hold on.”

“That doesn’t tell me where—”

Turning down a dead-end, Chan lifted his hand to your mouth with an emphasized “shhh”.

Maybe he was a maniac and he was planning on killing you as soon as you reached the end of the street. You definitely wouldn’t be able to find your way back to the main road if he tried, so it was definitely a possibility.

“Don’t worry about it.” He hushed.

With a small scoff, you puckered your lips in a pout and they briefly brushed against the palm of his hand. With the action, your eyes widened as his head snapped your direction. Immediately, your lips pulled into a tight line, your stomach tying up in knots as he dropped his hand and let it fall to your thigh, causing your whole body to go ridged. What was wrong with you?

Chan chuckled, patting your thigh in an attempt to dissolve your tenseness, but it only proved to make your clothes feel much tighter than they had been before. You were physically going to melt into the seat with how hot you were getting, and you sure as hell hoped you weren’t sweating as much as you thought you were.

But the feeling of his hand wasn’t unpleasant—it was warm, but not so much that it was uncomfortable, which was surprising considering how your skin was close to melting off the bone. It simply rested there, occasionally he drummed a nonexistent beat against it with his first two fingers, though you suspected that he hadn’t even noticed that he had been doing that.

Without you realizing, he pulled the car into park, his eyes amused as he watched you stare at his hand for a little longer.

Something else—you definitely were.

“We’re here.” Chan said, lifting his hand away from your thigh to pull the key from the ignition.

You weren’t upset that he had moved his hand, but you couldn’t deny that disappointment had started to bubble up.

Looking out your window, you noticed that you were, in fact, at the end of the dead-end road. But instead of a dense thicket of trees or a mountain of concrete blocking it off, there sat a decrepit and grey building. The maroon of the bricks had been worn and chipped, and the large barn looking doors were rusted and close to falling off their hinges. You can tell that it had once been beautiful with the large stone bird watching over on a centered pedestal.

Chan opened his door to get out and you followed, despite how strange it might’ve been that he took you to an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

“What is this?” You asked, almost shell shocked at the sheer size of the building as you both stepped closer.

“It’s an old fire station.”

Old didn’t do the place justice—every new fire station you had seen was pristine and white, large open door garages lining the first floor. The one in front of you was nothing like the ones in town.

“I used to live in this neighborhood before I moved to Sydney. I was very young and don’t really remember much about it, but I do remember this place.” He smiled, looking up at the two storied building. “When I came back I never expected it to be still standing after fifteen years. I thought the two would’ve torn it down and built a convenience store there or something, but nope, it’s still here.”

It was nice to see his face light up while talking about something he cared about. It was endearing.

He then grabbed your hand with a small wink and dragged you forward, though you didn’t put up much of a fight at all. Every part of you screamed about how nice his hand felt around yours, how his palms weren’t too calloused to be rough but enough to want them all over the rest of your body. His pale skin pretty with the contrast of his raised veins. Veiny hands were nice… You really were just reverting back to your horny high school self, weren’t you?

You cleared your throat.

“But why did you bring me here?” You questioned, looking warily at the back of his head.

You weren’t scared, but you were almost certain that a building that was decades old wasn’t a normal date site.

“Why not?” Chan shrugged, hoping to god that you couldn’t see just how terrified he was.

“Maybe because I was expecting to go watch a movie or go to a restaurant?”

He glanced back with a raised brow. “Do you want to do those things?”

“I’d rather chew off my foot,” you admitted, catching him off guard for a moment. “But I’m trying to make you feel like the weird one here.”

Weird one indeed. He had spent the entire night before without sleep, not coming up with a new track, but thinking of where exactly to bring you. He contemplated how to explain to you the reason why he was so exhausted and jittery was because he didn’t want you to leave the date thinking that he was some average guy. Chan didn’t want you to think he was boring. So he could be weird if it meant you wanted to see him again.

You shared a smile, both of your nerves fading away with each passing second. Of course, Chan had nothing to worry about.

He proceeded to pull you through the old rickety door of the station, completely ignoring the way the visible slivers of his chest flexed when he tugged the door open with one good yank. Now that you were actually thinking about it, his outfit was one of the best you’d seen him in; a simple black muscle tee topped with a heavy denim jacket, and his jeans whitewashed and ripped.

It was simple but effective considering you couldn’t keep your eyes off the strips of flesh that peaked behind his jacket. If only the autumn breeze had taken a day off.

The further the two of you got into the building, the more excited Chan looked. His eyes lit up and there was suddenly a bounce in his step. Not to mention the way his grip on your hand tightened to the point where he was nearly cutting off the circulation. But it was nice nonetheless. You didn’t have the heart to be upset with him.

Your eyes flew around to all the different old contraptions that must’ve been shiny in their prime. With torn hoses all over the place, and precariously placed pipes, you had no idea whether to be amazed that they hadn’t succumbed to the elements or terrified that if you took one wrong step you would fall and get impaled.

Looking over at Chan, you giggled as he began to unravel a wound up hose, momentarily releasing your hand to act like a complete child.

“So what was your plan when we got here? Get me in a secluded place so you could tie me up and kill me?” You teased, offering him a smile.

Chan wanted to do two of those three things—that was for sure.

“What? You don’t want to explore this magnificent building with me?” He asked despite himself.

“So you didn’t plan some elaborate picnic with candles and fancy homemade French food?”

Chan paused for a moment, lips fighting a smile. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. The hours of preparation was for naught, and Chan could care less.

He hummed, “Well if you mean a blanket on the floor and take-out, then yeah. No candles though. I have a bad feeling that if we were to light any fire within ten miles of this place it would turn to dust. Which would be pretty ironic considering it is a fire station—”

“Are you rambling?”

Chan froze, mouth open to deny your question, but found that it wasn’t completely false and shut it.

“...it’s probably cold too.” He added lastly.

You smiled.

“Sounds good to me.”

You then proceeded to struggle your way up a flight of unstable spiral stairs with Chan close behind—so close that his arms were almost completely around you. He assured you that it was only so he wouldn’t be at fault if you fell. But it felt nice whenever his chest brushed lightly against your back, so you let his lame excuse slide.

The food was, in fact, cold. But it was still good since you really couldn’t go wrong with traditional Korean food.

And so the rest of the evening played out, the two of you sharing pleasantries and learning about one another, with many cracked jokes about your brother and his friends, only strategically avoiding Jisung all together.

Chan went on about his story, how he had two younger siblings back in Australia and a set of loving parents that believed in each and every one of his dreams as he grew up, and supported his pursuit of becoming a producer. You bit your tongue, keeping your questions of “do you miss them?” and “do you still see them?” to yourself. Still, Chan seemed happy enough, you thought. Considering you would be miserable if you had to spend your time with someone who complained and sulked the whole time. You were glad he could talk about his family without falling into a pit of missing them.

That date was pretty perfect, despite its oddities.

Who knew someone could be a by-the-book romantic and an original dork at the same time?

Your own thoughts had you chuckling into your water, almost making you cough, but thankfully Chan hadn’t noticed, his attention too zeroed in on all the food in front of him.

“Oh shit—I forgot all about that thing!” He suddenly exclaimed, his eyes locked on a rusty fireman’s pole that ran up into a hole in the floor. Chan hadn’t even finished his (second) bowl of food when he jumped up and ran up to the death trap. The thing didn’t even have any padding at the bottom to protect someone from breaking their legs, and he was excited about that?

Suddenly, you let out a laugh—it was the kind that comes out unexpectedly and makes a loud, unattractive noise and it surprised you both. Your hand clamped down over your mouth on impulse before your shocked expression broke, a swarm of giggles leaving your covered lips and forcing a pink tinge over your cheeks. Chan could only stare at you in awe, trying to think of everything else that could beat your laugh in the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, but he came up blank.

“Come down the pole with me.”

His words had you freezing mid-laugh, eyes wide.

“What? No way am I doing that. What if I get pole burn?”

“Here,” Chan threw his jacket over your shoulders, surprising you with the flood of warmth cascading around you. “Now you can’t get pole burn.”

You pushed your arms through the arms of the jacket, silently relishing in the warm weight.

“Ah, look at you Romeo. I see that you’re trying to make up for all the years I missed going on dates. How romantic.”

“I try.”

With a wink, he was grabbing onto the pole all of a sudden and wrapping his legs around it. You barely had time to stare at the image of his thick biceps curling around the pole before he was descending down it with a laugh of his own. You leaned forward to watch him hit the floor, his knees bending to absorb the impact. He smiled up at you, the sight blinding.

“Your turn!”

“Did I ever mention that I’m kind of allergic to bad ideas?”

Chan snickered, leaning his hands on the pole and shaking it to show you just how “sturdy” the thing was. The wiggle and creak didn’t set you at ease, that was for sure.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. You just watched me do it!” Was his genius response.

The night was beginning to just become you counting how many times Chan said or did something that made you think he was a child.

“Okay, I just don’t understand why you want me to go down this damn pole! Is it some right of passage or something? Do you only go out with the girls who have the balls to do something this stupid?”

“Slide down here and find out.”

He got you there. You really did want to find out.

So you bit the inside of your cheek and wrapped your shaky hands around the rust crusted pole. How Chan managed to do so so easily without sleeves was baffling and a little sexy for whatever stupid reason. You had a thick layer of denim protecting you, and you still felt like you were going to be filleted open.

“Don’t think about it,” he encouraged with a soft voice. “Just jump. I’ve got you.”

And at the words of a poet, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, taking a step off the wooden floor and letting gravity pull you down. You could hear the rust tug and catch on the fabric of Chan’s jacket, but only for a second, because it only lasted a second before you felt hands grab your sides and pillow your impact. A surge of adrenaline had you breathing heavy as Chan cheered lightly in your ear.

“There. You did it.” He poked your forehead with a chuckle, getting you to open your blown eyes. “You have successfully completed the initiation.”

Your heart felt heavy and beat hard against your ribs as he straightened you out, hands finding purchase in his jacket. Subtly he was admiring how you looked in his clothes, but he would never admit that sappy fact to anyone.

You smiled; admittedly shakily. “Ah, yes. Validation. My favorite.”

Chan admired how you could keep releasing quips despite your fear. You weren’t one to be deterred, that was for sure.

“You have an unlimited supply of sarcasm in you, huh?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t run out yet.”

He smiled and you smiled, it was a good moment—the best of the day. A moment where you were glad you listened to him and literally took the leap. Ready to take another one, your eyes dropped to his lips and his dropped to yours.

And he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You weren’t completely caught off guard, but you definitely were. His hand that wasn’t preoccupied with fiddling with your fingers found your face, palm cupping your jaw and urging your head to tilt to meet his kiss better. It was gentle, as you had expected from Chan, and you were thankful for that.

His lips were softer than you expected and you prayed that the hand that held your cheek wouldn't be able to feel the way your face was burning. The way he intertwined your fingers was more intimate than the kiss itself and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting light-headed. You lost yourself to the way your shared breaths echoed around the large room every time your lips separated only to reconnect again immediately.

Your first kiss—well, your first real kiss. Surely that one you had shared with Kang Chanhee back in your first year of high school didn’t count. You had only gotten away with it since Minho was home sick that day, anyway.

It was much warmer than your last kiss, that was for sure. His jacket kept you shielded from the cold air and his body secreted a natural heat that had you pressing closer, which in turn sent him a signal to push forward as well.

Suddenly, his teeth bit down on the sensitive flesh of your lip, pulling a taut gasp from your throat.

The noise had Chan withholding a groan, pushing him to break the passionate exchange, his hazy eyes meeting your wide ones.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice small and unsure.

He could see the way your lips shined with not only your spit but his own. In some sick and twisted way, he was pleased to see the redness that the kiss brought to your puckered lips. It was satisfying. It was a sort of claim, and he was proud to hold it.

"Nothing. Just admiring my work." He grinned.

You hardly had time to register his words when the hand wrapped around yours was used to yank you forward, Chan’s mouth finding yours once again in a quick peck, leaving you just about a hundred degrees warmer than you originally felt.

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impulsivefanwriter · 3 years ago

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Hush Now (Cryptid AU)

So I got inspired by the song, “The Nowhere King” (NWK) from Centaurworld and this happened. I recommend reading the summary of the SPBNR Cryptid AU & perhaps ‘Watch Your Mouth (Cryptid AU)’ as that is earlier in the timeline, but to quick summarize:

Red (M!Kai) is at the ‘Nest of the Red Blur’ (aka the abandoned apartments Smith took over and stylized to fuel the cryptid rumours about him) when... oh dear, it seems a real cryptid (cough M!Overlord based on NWK) has taken an interest in his apprentice- :3

TW for creepiness, horror, tar, kidnapping, etc.

Waking up in an old decrepit building full of ivy and spiderplants, scrap metal, peeling wallpaper, and washed out paintings of cake was not the ideal scenario, but considering Red had been cryptid-hunting for the elusive cryptid that seemed intent on training him for some reason, the Red Blur, the previous night (or was it still night? early morning? it was hard to tell), it wasn't as frightening as it should have been.

It was still mildly terrifying waking up in the nest of fabric. But he'd been here a few times before, and it was at least appreciating that the Red Blur didn't leave him alone on a rooftop or alleyway in the city when he inevitably ran out of energy and crashed during their late-night runs.

He untangled himself from the nest and stretched, wincing at the crack of bones. Urgh, he was going to end up like Master Wu at this rate. The Red Blur (in their own way) had shown him the exit (after a bit) the first time he'd woken up in their lair, but he still got lost in the maze of nature-claimed hallways of the apartment ruins.

Well, at least he could explore then. And it was only mildly creepy wandering around alone.

But something felt... off. He couldn't quite place his finger on what. Was it that the air was still, a suffocating cold that stung his throat and puffed his breath in little clouds? The way the broken clock on the wall still seemed to tick, chiming just off-key to the steady march of time? The pungent smell of petroleum, something acidic and tar-like like rotten mold?

The apartment creaked and shuddered with every step, which shouldn't have been possible considering it was formed from concrete and carpet. Red felt like he had chugged a gallon of oil; the taste was heavy in his mouth and he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

𝓗𝓾𝓼𝓱 𝓷𝓸𝔀 (Hush now)

Red froze in the centre of the hallway and batted his ears. He could have sworn he heard a chorus of whispers, sounding both at the ends of the hallway and inside his head. Wind brushed the back of his neck.

There weren't any windows in this hallway.

𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹 (Dreamless sleep)

Red's feet were planted- almost as if frozen or glued- to the old stained carpet. A low creak sent a violent shudder throughout his body, but when he looked at either end of the hallway, no one was there. Though... was it just him, or was the area getting darker, the edges tinted with shadows.

𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱 (Darkness is nigh)

No, it wasn't shadows...

𝓠𝓾𝓲𝓮𝓽 (Quiet)

It was tar.

𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽 (Silent)

Tar, leaking from the cracks in the wallpaper. Tar, dripping down from the ceiling in fat droplets and tendrils. Tar, spilling out from underneath the carpet.

𝓗𝓪𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓴𝓲𝓮𝓼 (Hatred that reaches the skies)

Red couldn't move. All he could do was stare at the tar, a choir of ghostly voices resting phantom hands on his shoulders and singing soft melodies in his ears. His mouth felt sticky and he coughed, struggling to suck in a breath through the choking, acidic air. Something cold and wet dripped down his chin.

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓳𝓸𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓝𝓸𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰 (You will bring joy to the Nowhere King)

The tar was reaching toward him, forming clawed hands that pushed off from the floor, the walls, the ceiling with a leisurely pace.

𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 (When he sees the light)

It was cold.

𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼 (Leaving your eyes)

{---------------}

The Red Blur- or Smith, though no one knew his name nor that he wasn't actually a cryptid, heard the scream. It sounded like- but why-

Smith bolted from his room, the only part of the abandoned complex he hadn't changed to match the 'nest' aesthetic of the building and raced through the hallway.

But when he got to the spot where he'd heard the scream from, he found nothing but a smoking scorched stain on the carpet and a message written in black paint on the wall:

𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂 (I don’t appreciate curious little pretenders in my territory)

#spbnr #same People but not really #cryptid au #ninjago #lego ninjago #Lego Ninjago movie #the lego ninjago movie #kai #kai smith #kai ninjago #nowhere king #overlord #ninjago overlord #overlord ninjago #Imp's Writing

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limitlessgojo · 3 years ago

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Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 19)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Graphic Depictions of Blood and Violence, Death, Gore, Japanese Mythical Folklore, No Major Character Death, Slight Horror, War

Previous Chapter: 百鬼夜行 - Hyakki Yakou

Next Chapter: Home with My Heart

Word Count: 3.96k 3.97k ish like rounds up to 4K

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra notes: Long. I suggest rereading the last chapter if you need a refresher. This is like more than twice the length of my first chapter lol.

Chapter 19: Stay With Me

You remain silent.

"No answer, hmm??" The Kitsune grinned. But deep inside she was pissed. Another technique of hers lies in knowing who you'd prefer to save and manipulating you into hesitating so that you’d lower your guard down.

You are the largest threat to them here in Kyoto after all. But you didn't trust so easily. Especially the words of a Special Grade curse who obviously has something planned.

You carefully took in a deep breath. And in less than a split second, you turned and ran towards Noritoshi, with one hand pointing behind you towards your cousin.

Your barrier activated around Hiroki while you moved to position yourself in front of Noritoshi. You whipped out your blades, ready to parry her thorns.

As soon as your feet moved from position, the magic circles flared and activated their sequence.

Both boys realized what happened after a few seconds, the Kitsune's attack and your movements were too fast for them to follow.

She had launched her thorns in your direction. You tried to block as much of them as you could, but some got through your openings.

There were too many, and it was much faster than you expected. It was hard, not fighting with a guard around you.

You numbly stared down at your open wounds, feeling the pain in a distant manner. She had cleanly pierced through your ribs. While her other large set of thorns had bounced off your barrier, protecting your cousin.

The magic circles beneath both boys disappeared, as did your warp around Hiroki.

“Y/N!!” Noritoshi stared in horror. Your back was still to him, but he could see the protruding blood-stained thorns. Time slowed down as blood gushed from your lips.

He catches you as you fall towards the ground. An insane heat spreads throughout your body. Something was very wrong.

She laughed maniacally at the scene unfolding before her. "Jujutsu Sorcerers are so weak. So easy! You all crumple at the sight of your most beloved ones in danger."

It's scary isn't it? Putting your life on the line for your comrades. Will you die today?

The Kitsune launches an attack at the both of you, but Hiroki quickly steps and defends against her. She is forced further back as Mechamaru shoots out a laser beam from a distance.

You were trying to use your reverse cursed technique, with no avail. Your hands and legs can't move. It's a temporary paralysis. So you couldn't pull out the thorns and then heal your wounds.

"Love! Talk to me! What's wrong?"

You couldn't even answer him or move your mouth. Blood continued seeping out of your wounds.

You slumped as Noritoshi gathered you in his arms. How unlucky. There were barely any curses anymore and yet this had to happen. But you had no regrets.

You looked up at Noritoshi with so much love in your eyes. But his own were filled with agony, screaming at you to hold on while blood was pouring down the side of your mouth.

Tears streamed down your face. You were happy, because you had the power to save the ones you love this time.

But you really wanted to grow old with Noritoshi. See the wrinkles line his face. Experience everything with him. You'd take him back in a heartbeat and tell him that he owned you and your heart since the day you met. That you loved him even when you thought he put on a farce to be with you.

Even if he were to love or be with another woman. Even if it pained you to think of him as a distant person in your life, being by his side was the happiest you've felt in your entire life.

He pressed his lips against yours, trying to give you more air. His hands trembling against the thorns embedded inside of you. Your blood was spilling everywhere, and he didn't want to look down to see his hands covered in red.

'There's so much blood,' he thought to himself, panicking. It was staining both of your clothes, dripping onto the pavement.

"Your reverse cursed technique! Use it!" He yelled hoarsely. In smooth movements, he ripped out the thorns one by one and applied pressure onto your wounds.

His heart plummeted as nothing happened. But he didn't lose faith. If you were paralysed, it was up to him to save your life.

Noritoshi did some quick thinking, remembering the content in the Gojo family records of Soulmates. He bit his thumb and forced his blood into your mouth.

"Drink my love, please drink it." Turns out you didn't have to do much. The blood hit your tongue, and he activated his technique on your blood.

Usually this would be impossible. Blood Manipulation only works on the user's own blood, but the power of soulmates isn't one to be taken lightly.

He read through your vitals, RBC (red blood cell), platelet, and WBC (white blood cell) count, and saw the rising blood pressure and temperature. He did his best to stabilize your vitals.

It worked. Your head cleared, and even while paralysed, you quickly managed to seal your wounds. You continued activating your reverse cursed technique, not stopping for a moment.

If it was any minute longer, you would have died. But Noritoshi worked way too fast out of desperation to keep you alive.

"Stay with me, angel. Good, your wounds are finally sealing." He leaned down and continued applying pressure onto the open punctures.

He continued to scan and manage your blood pressure, and found something. It was a foreign substance in your blood. Something like a black tar, attacking your insides and messing with your nervous system. Alongside with it was a poison slowly seeping through your blood.

"What on earth is that? Is that the technique of the Kitsune?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

But with complete hold over your blood, he was able to manipulate it into leaving your body by going outside one of your wounds.

It was so painful, more tears fell down the sides of your face, while you were still in paralysis.

"This will end soon, I promise. Hold on."

Noritoshi blocks out everything else. Completely ignoring Todo and Mechamaru who are facing the fox behind him.

As soon as the black substance was out, you finally could move, trembling and heaving out more blood.

"No, calm down. Calm down! Y/N!" He pressed you back down onto his lap as you tried to sit upright. “Love, please!”

Hiroki was fighting the Kitsune with tears running down his face, screaming bloody murder as he striked and aimed at it.

It seems as though the magic circles require a ton of cursed energy. The Kitsune doesn't seem to be activating them anymore. She was now on the defensive, not having expected reinforcements. Still, it was clear she overpowers them all.

A red symbol appeared on your right eye, a cross identical to Noritoshi’s red flowing scale mark. You bent over to the side and started puking out a blue substance mixed with your blood. Moving to kneel down on all fours, while Noritoshi held you.

“Get it all out, love, faster.” He was frantic like he’d never been before. Pressing a palm against your neck and forcing you to remove this new poison right away.

An alarming amount of blood came out of you and pooled on the concrete. Even though he knew you needed to force it out of your system, you were still losing blood fast, and it wasn’t good. Your skin slowly turns into a sickly pale shade.

Thank goodness for Noritoshi, who could help push out the poison with brute force. If you were stuck with anyone else, you'd be dead right now.

As soon as the poison is completely out, he pulls you up and away from the bubbling blue liquid on the ground. “Close your wounds. That’s enough. Anymore and you’ll lose too much blood.”

The mark on your eye disappears.

Noritoshi cradles you in his arms. Both of you were drenched in blood, the blood of the enemy and your own, but he didn't care as he held you close.

“Steady darling. Stay steady. You’re okay. You’re with me.” Tears continuously fell from his eyes. You tried to reach up, wanting to comfort him, but your arms could barely move. 'Don't cry Toshi. Please don't' You thought.

"I love you, please don't leave me alone. I can't live without you." He choked. With one hand on your wounds, Noritoshi did his best to ensure you didn’t lose any more blood. He tried to make it stay within your system, circulating properly.

You looked up at him with blood and tears running down your face. 'I love you too, Noritoshi, it's always been you. It has to be you,' you thought out loud.

You took deep breaths, grunting at the pain. The pounding headache you’ve had for a while slowly started to clear. You were now able to completely seal your wounds, trying to do it carefully to prevent scarring.

Noritoshi placed a hand over yours as you healed yourself. You turned to look at the Kitsune that was preoccupied with other sorcerers. They were going to die at this rate.

You feel light-headed and your eyes keep fluttering. It was hard to stay conscious at this point. Noritoshi slowly lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles ever so softly. “Stay with me, my heart.”

You will. If it was the last thing you’d do, you’d do anything to stay with him.

The reverse cursed technique activated and the wounds sealed tight and clean.

“I think I’m good now..." You tried to sit upright, breathing heavily. He worriedly looked over at you.

"You saved me, so I now owe you my life. Not that it's never been yours in the first place. Thank you for that Toshi," You heaved yourself up to stand, spitting out another mouthful of blood onto the ground.

“You saved MY life, darling. And what do you think you’re doing? You’re still hurt. Let’s bring you to the clinic. Come.” He beckoned you there.

"I didn't lose THAT much blood. It just looks really bad. Maybe a pint or two at most. I'll manage."

"No, you stay back. You need rest." He tried to push you to the direction of the clinic but you held fast.

Noritoshi stared into your eyes. They reflected the light of the fires behind him, making them look like glowing orbs of flame. You were his Phoenix, he realized. And he was utterly entranced by your charisma.

"I can still fight."

You knew your limits well, having trained all your life for a situation like this. Even now, your reverse cursed technique was activated in the background, simultaneously with your combat techniques.

Now that all the poison was out of your system, you only had to worry about the physical injuries.

"I don't want to lose you," Noritoshi whispered, broken.

"You won't. Because I'm much stronger than this, I promise you." You grabbed his wrist, "So stay with me. You said that just now right? I’ll stay with you, I promise."

“I can’t ever keep you down, can’t I?” He bitterly smiles to himself as he presses his forehead against yours. Eyes filled with pain, because he knew you were right. Jujutsu sorcerers always fight to surpass their limits.

“No, you can’t. But you already knew that since before, didn’t you? After all, you’re the same as I am.”

Noritoshi couldn't do anything else, but to kiss you. You returned it with just as much passion. It tasted of dirt and blood, but to both of you, it was like a breath of fresh air.

Both of your red strings slowly crept out into the open, invisible to everyone else except the two of you. The broken ropes reattached and you felt your mark burn for the first time in weeks.

But there was no time to celebrate.

"I've got this bitch to kill. Just watch the other curses in the area. I've got her."

He let out the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard. “Okay. I’ll be right here. Cleaning up the rest. Right behind you.”

Your eyes zeroed in on the Kitsune who turned to you, shocked that you had survived her poison.

She quickly pushed out another palm with the same insignia flashing in blood red. But you were faster, moving past Noritoshi's arms and in an instant, shoving both of your blades into her gut.

“Get back!” You yelled to everyone else. There was a reason as to why you were most effective when you did your missions alone.

She tried to pull away. Flames suddenly engulfed the both of you. But it didn't matter, because you've got a hold on her.

You didn't hesitate to choke her and wrap your legs around her waist.

"Fucking bitch," You spat out.

Her eyes flashed a brighter gold and the flames surrounding the both of you went even hotter. Burning the lamp posts and pavement in the vicinity. The ground warped and started flowing a bright red.

Noritoshi was forced back from the insane heat. The other curses and poor unprepared Jujutsu sorcerers closer to the both of you burst into flame and disintegrated.

You couldn't see anything at all. Just the Kitsune, and a wall of fire. You thought about the damages distantly, and automatically used your technique to fly high up in the sky with her still in your chokehold.

"We curses deserve to rule this land. Just as we did thousands of years ago during the Heian period. What makes you think you're any better than us? You pathetic Jujutsu sorcerers are slowly dying out while ignorant weak humans stay protected by their ignorance. What are you doing this for?" She hissed.

"I don't care about any of you curses," your throat closed up, anger rising at the thought of innocent sorcerers dying in the middle of combat.

"You could join us and be stronger!" She pleaded.

Fury was evident on your face. You gripped her throat tighter, your fingers wrapped in your spacial barrier to prevent you from her fire.

"Or you can shut up and die right here." You snarled.

The Kitsune saw that you were going for it. She raised her hand and the flames turned blue. If you weren’t fast enough you’d melt. This flame was far more than what you were used to handling.

What is stronger? Flame or ice?

You set Niflheim to the lowest setting you could.

"Absolute Zero."

Immediately the flames extinguished and turned to cold smoke. Ashes and steam billowed in the air, making it hard for anybody to see anything.

The Kitsune under you screamed as she slowly froze over. But she was still moving. Not enough?

You released your technique and the both of you did a free fall from the sky.

You took a leaf out of Satoru’s book and slammed her down hard on the pavement, simultaneously releasing Goldenrod with a proper activation at over 3000 volts. You've been perfecting this attack with Hiroki for weeks.

A loud crack of thunder with a flash of lightning shot out of your hands, incinerating her on the spot. Not a trace left as the curse disappeared into black smoke. The remnants of her final screams echoed in your ears.

You placed your palm against the still hot pavement and activated Niflheim to cool things down within the area. Steam fizzed out as the flames were put out.

You crouched down low on the ground to catch your breath, those last two attacks took a lot out of you and you were running low on cursed energy.

You have a lot. But it wasn't unlimited, unlike how Satoru could regulate his to an insane extent. Even now, you can feel some pain in your chest and try to heal yourself further.

You felt omnipotent. There's no other way to describe it. You say you hate fighting, but the rush of defeating a powerful opponent is like no other.

This side of you that enjoys beating down curses is rising, you couldn't stop smiling. But you felt a soft hand bring you slowly back down to earth.

"Darling?"

You looked up at him, still grinning. Ignoring the blood running down one side of your face.

"Darling."

Ah. That steady presence. The beautiful person whom you live for.

"My love, let's clear up the remaining curses. Celebrate later."

"Mmmm." You smiled at him, feeling yourself come back down.

You squeezed his hand. Noritoshi could feel your elation. It was almost electric. That ego rising up too high. Pride.

He didn't mind seeing you like this, but you tended to get overconfident in battle sometimes. Not that you didn't have any good reason not to be. This side of you was very much Gojo Satoru like, he thought to himself.

You helped clean up the remaining curses. Not much stronger ones were left. Noritoshi watched every movement of yours, staying right beside you to support you.

You staggered after seeing that your areas were clear. Noritoshi quickly wraps his arms around you, “You’re coming with me to the clinic. And I am not accepting any answer other than Yes.”

“Yes sir.” You leaned into him as he lifted you in his arms. Some of your wounds had reopened, due to your reverse cursed technique weakening. The adrenaline coursing through your body was too much that you failed to feel the pain. Which means you failed to realize that some wounds were still bleeding.

He entered the clinic and quickly put you down on one of the empty beds. One of your uncles came to check on you. Running over with an IV stand in hand. They hooked you to one of their regular Balanced Saline solutions to help with your blood loss.

Hiroki came in, battered with a bruise on one temple, but still very much alive. He was now off combat duty and on healing duty. Quickly coming over to press a hand against your chest to activate his reverse cursed technique.

Noritoshi sighed in relief, seeing your bleeding come to a halt. He winced upon feeling a sharp pain in his right arm, turning to look at the nurse that was dressing his wounds. He didn’t even notice them, being too focused on you.

He had fewer injuries than you did.

“Hemorrhagic shock sis. You scared the life outta me back there.” Hiroki groaned as he let his head fall forward.

“I would never have forgiven you if you died on me too.”

“You’re such a loser bro. I won’t die.”

“Keep talking shit like that and you might,” he pinched your side making you hiss at him.

“No fighting with the sick!” Your uncle smacked him upside his head.

“We need Hiroki! Life support emergency please!” A nurse from the other side of the ward yells. Your cousin worriedly looks down at you, “I’ve done what I can. Can you manage?”

“Yep. Go. You know how I’m fine now.”

He nods and leaves you with Noritoshi, who was still staring at you. Now with his wounds fully dressed and cleaned.

He kneels down in front of you, looking up with such a soft expression. He stayed like that for a while, feeling your vitals stabilise further. His technique was still linked to your blood somehow, which gave him a deeper sense of relief, knowing he can help you if anything else were to happen.

You felt absolutely horrible. The man had shown you time and time again that he loves you and you doubted that.

"I'm sorr-"

"Are you-"

You both spoke at the same time, eyes widening.

He motioned you to go first, but you shook your head and let him go first.

"Are you feeling okay?" He whispered.

You smiled. "I am. Just need to sleep it off. It's not the worst I've had."

He ran his fingers through his hair, seemingly distracted, before reaching over to link your right hand with his left one. "Good, good."

“Are you okay Toshi?”

“I’m fine. Hardly a dent in me today. Thanks to you.”

You gave a shy smile, quietly relieved.

“Toshi… thank you…” you whispered.

Noritoshi shakes his head, “You save me and I save you. That’s how we work. As soulmates.” He holds up your hands, marks burning brightly.

He could feel your emotions once again. It used to be this numb feeling, where you once were. But now, he can sense all the negativity in the back of your head.

Regret. A lot of sadness. Guilt. But also, a deep love for him. You never stopped loving him.

"Toshi," You started again with a bit more confidence. He looked back into your eyes, smiling and nodding.

You have to apologize. Go do it. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but somehow you were still tongue-tied.

"Noritoshi, I really owe you a proper apolo-"

"Hey," You both looked to the right to see your mom approaching you.

"Mom!"

Noritoshi jerked into a standing position, body stiff as he bowed a full 90 degree angle towards your mother.

"Ah, it's nice to meet you. I'm Kamo Noritoshi and I'm y/n's- " He froze, not knowing what to say.

You weren't dating anymore. As of now.

"Soul-"

"Boyfriend and soulmate, mom. He's my boyfriend." You smiled up at both of them.

His heart warms itself at your words. A humongous invisible weight lifts from his chest and shoulders.

She smiled and reached up to pull him into a hug. "You've made my baby girl so happy. Thank you. Call me 'Okaa-san' too."

He felt his throat tighten, "Not at all. She's been such a blessing to me. Uh- Okaa-sama."

“I need to bring my baby girl home now. Do you want to come back to the Tsuchimikado estate with us? We can oversee your recovery as well.” She offers.

Noritoshi’s eyes widened. “Ah, I’d love to. I just have to check on with my father-”

“I’ve already talked to him. A pleasant man he is, the head of the Kamo clan. More than I thought.” She had a bit of a wary expression when she said those words. Clearly still unfamiliar with Noritoshi’s family.

“If he said so, then yes please. I’d like to stay with her.”

After that, it was a blur of activity. Your mom makes sure you’re both stable enough before bundling the both of you in a car back to the estate. Noritoshi quickly shoots a text to his father to confirm things, and was actually surprised to see a jovial reply.

No doubt trying to help him patch things up with you. He closes his eyes. For now, he’ll take this as a solid win. It was working in his favor anyway for his father to so strongly support your relationship.

You squirmed uncomfortably against him, patting him to get his attention.

“Do you need anything, love?” Noritoshi nearly tosses his phone away in his haste to turn back to you. But you shook your head.

"I love you so much, Toshi. And I’m sorry for hurting you." You whispered. You were unsatisfied; it was far from a proper confession. But for now, exhaustion overcomes you. His eyes widen, but you fall asleep against him just as you see him open his mouth to reply.

He looks over the top of your head and checks your condition. You had fallen asleep. It was a miracle that you even stayed conscious for this long. Noritoshi was prepared to catch you in the middle of battle, but you held on the whole time.

Still, he was happy to hear those few words, not bothering to hide the biggest smile on his face as he tucks you into his side.

Authors notes: Guess whose form the Kitsune took on when Noritoshi looked at her as he was put under hypnosis.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast @nayydoesthings @a1hina @r-rose08 @cherriesanwine @felicityforyou

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chicksung · 4 years ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 - 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐦

Genre: best friend au, fluff

Pairing: best friend!jake x reader

Word count: 0.5k

Warning/s: none!

part of @ficscafe dialogue event!

prompt: I’ll give you twenty bucks if you kiss me

The night concealed the two figures who trekked along the footpath, illuminated occasionally by the oddly placed streetlamps on the side of the road.

“You’re joking, right?” You raised your eyebrows at Jake, the boy struggling to walk in a straight line from how hard he was laughing.

“Nope! Completely true. Niki downed that lemon juice like his life depended on it,” Jake wheezed, tears of laughter visible in his eyes from the dim glow of the lamps. You shoved him lightly, your laughter echoing through the empty streets.

“You torment that poor kid,” You shook your head at him, glancing at the empty asphalt roads that led to places unknown.

“Hey Jake?”

“Yeah?”

You hesitated on your question, but only for a moment. It was too early in the morning for hesitation.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” Jake blinked at you, confused by your question. Your words finally clicked with him, earning you a quirked eyebrow.

“Why do you ask? You want one?” He joked, amused by how you didn’t act as flustered as you thought you would.

“Why? What do I get out of it?” You smirked at him, kicking a loose rock on the path, watching it bounce across the concrete before it settled itself in the crevices of the tar next to it.

“I’ll give you twenty bucks if you kiss me,” He commented half jokingly.

“What? No! Jake Sim, what kind of person do you take me for?” You shot a strange glance at him.

“Fine. Fifty bucks,”

“Done,” You agreed, pulling him down by the collar of his jacket and planting your lips on his. The kiss didn’t last long, only three short seconds. You panted lightly, trying to control your adrenaline rush. Your eyes never left Jake’s, who had stars swimming in them. An awkward silence fell over the both of you like a weighted blanket. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, contrasting to the chill in the air as you fished around in your pocket for your phone. You smiled at it.

“I should get going. If my mother finds out I was out so late, I might as well be grounded for life,” You tutted, looking back at your best friend, “The things I risk for you, Jake,” You smiled at him, beginning to walk down the path. Jake watched you walk away, frozen to his spot. Did he really just kiss his best friend?

“Oh, and Jake?” You turned on your heel to face the brown hair boy again.

“Y-Yeah?”

“I expect that fifty bucks at school on Monday,” You pointed at him, eyebrows raised with a cheeky smile adorning your lips. He felt himself smile at you and nodded.

“You got it, boss,” He assured, admiring you as you trudged down the path.

He felt a giddy feeling bubble in his chest before realisation dawned on him. Not the fact he quite possibly was incredibly in love with his best friend, but he had to scrounge up fifty bucks by Monday.

#nct writers #neoturtles #neoswitch #kpopscape #ficscafe #neoculturecafe #kpop #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen jake #jake sim #sim jaeyoon

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lixie-lovie · 4 years ago

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{ Mysterious Stranger | skz }

h.hyunjin x reader

Chapter 5: De la lumière des ténèbres naît

Genre: Dark!au, Thriller-ish, Fantasy!au

Warnings: Some cursing, mention of weapons/blood/demons, fighting occurs, mentions of kidnapping, nightmares

((if anything else needs to be tagged/warned about please send me a message..i’ll fix it asap))

Word Count: 3k (ish)

Note: I AM ONCE AGAIN SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. Life made my brain shut down for a while, but this chapter is here! finally!! This chapter is a littleee short, but more will come soon and its ab to get s p i c y. Hope y’all enjoy!

Chapter Song: You Can Run - Adam Jones

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“It’s time”

I woke with a start in an unfamiliar bed. My hands grasped at the scratchy covers feeling as though I was suffocating. I took note of how cold it must have been by the mist of my breath blurring my vision as I struggled to crawl out of the bed. My body ached and my lungs burned with each heavy, rasping breath that rattled my chest.

My eyes searched the room frantically even through my brain’s panicked haze. I found myself crawling on my hands and knees, dragging my body towards a window at the corner of the small, door-less barren room. As my numb, shaking hands grasped the edge of the windowsill I gasped, looking out into swirling inky blackness. I staggered back as quickly as possible, fearing that the longer I would look, the more I would see, and the less I would want to.

I took deep breaths, steadying my aching palms on my knees before shutting my heavy eyelids for a moment of reprieve. When I finally felt calm I slowly peeled my now sticky with exhaustion eyelids apart and tried to take in my surroundings. As I looked toward the area I knew I had been lying in bed before, I realized I was somewhere completely new to me.

Somehow, this place felt familiar, as if the taste of it’s name had once graced my tongue with its syllables, yet I got a sense that it was different. As I stood straight I compared these feelings of a wistful familiarity to leaving home for college and coming back home to a city overrun with distasteful gentrification. A childhood stolen and sold while one was away.

I could almost hear symphonies and see golden halls filled with people I did not know and music I had never heard, but now as I breathed in air permeated thickly with tar-like smoke, it felt as though those scenes of paradise were in the past or possibly had yet to come at all.

My brow furrowed as my fingers, still tingling with numbness, curled inwards into fists at the discomfort settling in my gut. I sighed, taking in the asphalt covering the ground and the barren trees sparsely creaking in the seemingly unending wasteland before me. Though normally I would question this strange situation I felt as though I knew all of the answers.

Perhaps in this strange land I may have not even been myself, but I found no time to inquire about this revelation as I looked forward, determined and began to run. My feet pounded against the ground beneath my feet as I ran towards the abyss staring back at me as if maybe, if I could find it in myself to run fast enough, I would be able to reach those symphonic halls and find the everlasting peace I longed for so much. Maybe I would find my mother.

I woke up gasping, cold and alone in a dark and damp room. The room itself smelt of smoke and wax, as if only ever lit by candles. Taking into consideration how little I could see at the moment, I presumed it must have been a while ago those candles had held flame. My eyes tried to scan my surrounding area, but through the thick veil of inky blackness, I could see nothing but the colored spots that often danced behind my eyelids.

I took a deep breath, sitting up from my uncomfortable position on the floor and soon, as I became more alert and aware of my situation, I realized that both of my hands had been bound tightly by thick coils of rope. I wasn’t sure how long I had been here, but judging by the warm, slick feeling of blood beginning to slip down my wrists from the compressed tension of the rope, I assumed it had been a while.

My head was pounding with a dull, throbbing headache and my stomach rolled as I made a move to get on my feet. I tried to determine what way to walk, eventually finding my way to one of the walls, but by the time I felt as though I had walked around the same cold and hard concrete four walls one to many times to count, my legs gave out. I wasn’t any more sure of my surroundings and with my knees now surely bruising and bleeding I sighed heavily, trying to recall what had occurred to land me in this situation.

I racked my brain but the ache in my head was making my thoughts hazy. Just as I began to come to a clearer conclusion of what had occurred there was a sudden clang reverberating from somewhere nearby on the other side of one of these four walls. My head whipped around swiftly to try and stare into the direction the sound had come from. My lips moved to form words of inquiry, but the tone died at my strained vocal chords as I thought of what could possibly be the source of such a strange and ominous noise.

I stood again, slower this time, making sure not to make too much of a sound and my eyes darted to a small crack emitting a flickering orange light. My steps were loud in the silence, my eyes adjusting too slow to the dim lighting. Soon, as I approached the source, a loud creaking sound could be heard from the wall adjacent to me. I flinched, spots dancing in front of my eyes at the sudden light coming from in front of me, and I began backing up at the back-lit figure now moving in my direction.

As my eyes began to adjust, my brow furrowed deeply at the hooded figure staying by the only exit to the strange room I had found myself in. My feet shuffled backwards, the noise of the scraping alerted the shape in front of me as they began their slow creep towards my now cowering figure. I readied myself, squaring my shoulders and holding my breath as they approached, prepared to run or comply, whatever would allow me to make some kind of an escape. I knew, however, that I knew nothing here. I was in their domain now, like some kind of caged animal, and I was antsy to learn all that I could about this strange situation.

A feeling akin to panic rose in my chest and it became hard to quell the sounds of my harshly beating heart as the figure let out a low hum, looking over me and slowly rounding my silhouette, seemingly assessing my state of being. I let out a breath as they took a small number of steps away from my shivering form and dug my nails into my palms, so tightly I was sure they’d bleed, to compose myself as they began to turn back towards the still open doorway to this strange room. I watched their figure, taking small quiet steps behind them to question what I could see beyond this enclosure.

“Follow me.” A deep, gravely voice uttered, not turning back to face me. I nearly gasped, but bit my tongue as I was still in shock behind them. Their footsteps stilled suddenly, as they turned their head in my direction, humming out a noise I was sure meant I had no room to not comply with their wishes. I silently scanned their profile for a glimpse at their features.

However, even with the light protruding from the outside of this room The hood over their head blocked any recognizable feature from view. Their robes that hid their build were eerily familiar and I noticed my thoughts drifting to the interaction between myself and the robed figures before. The royal purple shone with the man’s movement like swirling liquid of entrancement, the gold thread lining the outsides of the glistened threateningly even in the low light surrounding us.

I noticed my brow furrowing as I took place behind the man, nodding my head softly in confirmation that I was willing to listen. Every idea of escape began to swirl in the background of my mind as the forefront was overruled with thoughts of finding the truth. Finding my mother.

As my feet shuffled tiredly, slowly copying the movements of the man guiding me and my eyes adjusted painfully to the brighter lights I found myself faintly wondering where I was located and how far I was from the men who had only recently taken me in. My thoughts came to a stop soon however as I took in the corridor now in front of me.

My feet stumbled, my once tightly set jaw going limp as I looked around these ornate concrete catacombs surrounding me. It felt surreal as I stared up, the high ceilings lined with carved statues of heroes and monsters catching my eyes.

There were sections cut out of the smooth, grey stone that held flames of a more red color than I had ever seen before. The man continued forwards, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silent hall, but my feet were still as I tried to snap out of my shock, hearing the shuffling sound of others nearby. I assumed at first they must be the other robed figures I presumed he was taking me to, but as my eyes scanned the walls inquisitively I noticed other cell like rooms containing more people bound and miserable.

My brow furrowed in thought as I rushed to catch up with the figure now leaving me behind and I vowed under my breath to figure out what was happening around me currently.

The walk down the corridor felt as though it had taken years, but I blamed that on the tight feeling of anxiety rising in my chest and the dry desert that was my throat due to seemingly hours of dehydration. The turns made my stomach churn as I tried counting the amount of times we were turning and in what direction, memorizing the patterns. The man suddenly stopped as my thoughts were far from what was occurring and his hand shot out to clasp my shoulder, the feeling shaking me out of the swirling thoughts in my mind and forcing my head to snap upwards to notice the large, dark wooden doors now residing in front of me.

“The elders will meet with you soon. Don’t stray too far and don’t go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I’ll be back to bring you back to your quarters.” The deep voice said to me. The tone made me eye him suspiciously, the anxiety rising through my chest and claiming my throat now at the implications behind his words. I sighed softly and nodded my head as confirmation as he turned and began walking back the way we had come moments before. As his footsteps receded I replayed his words in my head while turning my hands in their ropes trying to test how hard it would be to get out of my restraints.

His words felt oddly familiar and I tried racking my brain for any means I would have to help me out of this uncomfortable situation, but just as I began muttering the words spoken to me out loud the doors in front of me slowly began creaking and shuttering as they were pushed open, revealing their contents to my eyes. The room itself was large, much larger than I expected, and I was almost unable to make out the shape or size in its entirety due to the darkness shrouding every inch currently. I tried whipping my head around, searching for who had opened the door or any other sign of an “elder” around me, but I was left longing, confusing, and panicked as I was left in eerie silence and solitude. I inhaled sharply, the air burning my lungs in a refreshing manner, squaring my shoulders once again and determinedly taking a few steps inside.

I held my breath as I used all the senses I could still rely on to assess my situation. My footsteps resonated loudly throughout the echoing room. I jumped as a voice suddenly boomed from in front of me, stating my name loudly. Stumbling backwards slightly my eyes darted back and forth, searching for some kind of figure to settle upon. My eyes could faintly make out the shape of large figures towering above me.

Candles were settled at the edge of the platform in front of them, allowing me to see that there were six of them, all of which were wearing matching robes to the other’s I had seen before.

I muttered a prayer to any god I could think of before taking a deep breath in and trying to pay as much attention to the minute details as my foggy, dehydrated brain would allow. I noticed each of them had a glowing pendant that looked well crafted and eerily similar to the ornate designs of the dagger I had been given before.

I gasped as they spoke to each other quietly in a language I was sure I had never heard before. I listened intently, searching for some kind of meaning in the way their tongues were curling around the foreign words. Finally, the large one stood towards the middle of the group spoke up, in a language I could understand this time.

I couldn’t catch every word, my consciousness feeling as though it was sand slipping through an hourglass, but there were a few words that stuck out to me. My senses perked up at the implications each had and I racked my brain for what they could have been connected to, coming up with nothing but questions and dizzy confusion.

“the one blinded”

“vengeance”

“the full moon”

“duty”

“sacrifice”

Their words were making less and less sense as my face contorted at the last word and sweat began to bead at my brow. I blinked harshly, feeling my face become wet with tears that I couldn’t remember crying. I could hear voices, footsteps, but my legs felt like lead and my head felt heavy.

There were gaps of time that felt impossibly thick and suddenly I was alert, staring at the large man’s face that was now riddled with unbridled shock. A rough, calloused gasp left his lips and suddenly he took a step forward, his hood shifting with the sudden stumble. My eyes went wide as the other hooded figures’ voices went silent.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from his pale, wrinkled face as I watched his eyes gather wet, thick tears and suddenly he coughed, once and then twice, before slick red blood began gathering at his pink, chapped lips. It formed a trail down his chin before a hooded figure, now visible to me as the man slumped to the ground with a dull and heavy thud, stood tall with a blade now visible in their hand. The blade itself I recognized instantly, but I was startled by the blood now coating its blade.

The murderous hooded figure made a turn so impossibly graceful it seemed as though it was practiced and almost playful before the other figures, the elders, made a panicked dash, blades in hand to exit and scatter. The treacherous man made daring moves after them, but only for a moment before he looked my way, his hood falling slightly allowing me a subtle glimpse at his impossibly golden eyes, before they darkened and darted towards something behind me.

I yelped loudly, thrashing around as someone grasped my sore, scabbed wrists until I heard a voice that filled me with relief. I nearly smiled or laughed at the impossible situation I was in when I heard him speak into my ear, his breath making me shiver.

“You need to run.” Hyunjin said, his hands gentle as he tore through the ropes binding my wrists. He made a quick motion with his hands and spoke words I feared I would never know the meaning of to the other traitor before making a move to run in the direction opposite to where I was being pointed to run. Just as I took a shaky breath in, rubbing the sorest part of my wrists softly and wincing at the pain it caused, he turned back, his hood now down and his golden hair sweaty and stuck to his face in patterns that made my head spin.

His eyes twinkled even in the dim light of the candles and a mischievous smirk played at the corners of his lips as he stared back at me. He took two steps back in my direction, something I never expected, and reached his hand out towards me slowly, as not to startle me.

“You know, I said I really don’t like babysitting.” He said, speaking softly, as if almost hoping I wouldn’t hear him as he pushed a strand of my hair back so that it wouldn’t fall out of its original resting place. His hand drifted down, barely touching my arm as it ran its course causing my skin to break out in goosebumps. “And I am real sick of having to keep giving this back to you.” He laughed out, placing my blade back into my open palms gently.

I looked at it shocked, feeling its weight sink into my palm as if it belonged there, like an extension of myself. Then, my eyes darted back up to his face, softer than I had ever seen it before if only for a brief moment before his features hardened again.

“Now. Get out of here and don’t look back. Someone’s waiting on you.” He whispered to me, his voice gruff with an emotion I couldn’t quite place and wouldn’t dare question. He then turned on his heel, decidedly making his way towards a future I wasn’t sure of and I found myself wishing I would have found the strength to say something as I listened to his advice and began to run.

I recalled my dream, my feet pounding against the ground, my hands numb, and a scene unfolding before my eyes, all around me. It was encompassing and terrifying, but full of promise from the past and for the future if only I could run fast enough through the suffocating darkness of the present.

#and it begins #mysterious stranger #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #straykids #straykids x reader #skz #skz x reader #reader insert #series #demon hunter #thriller #drama #getting somewhere #05

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softjeon · 5 years ago

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Home | Pt. 3

• Pairing: Namjoon x Hybrid!Yoongi (Platonic!) • Genre: Fluff | Hybrid!AU • Words: 4,3k • Disclaimer: a tiny bit of anxiety and insomnia

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ Namjoon watched Yoongi strutting after him over his shoulder and sighed. He couldn’t believe he’s really done it; paying too much money for a hybrid that would bite him if given the chance when all he had wanted was a cute, little - very much harmless - kitten to begin with.

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Namjoon woke from the sudden sound of a window closing shut with a bang, making him jerk up in an instant, his heart beating fast against his chest.

“Fox?” He called out for the hybrid, as he still had no name for him, so Namjoon thought calling him just ‘Fox’ was the only right thing to do. He got up slowly, blinking his eyes to see better in the dark when he noticed that the hybrid wasn’t sleeping next to the air cooler on the pillows. Namjoon quickly ran from where he suspected that the noise had come from and gasped when he saw the chair on the table, the window hitting the roof repeatedly from the wind. “Oh no,” Namjoon ran back into the hallway, grabbed his key and the leash and ran out onto the front lawn.

“Fox?” He called out once more, looking left and right. Namjoon couldn’t help but feel scared, not necessarily because of his hybrid hurting anyone, but of humans that could want to hurt him - or cars that he didn’t see in his haste.

“Fuck,” Namjoon chose one direction and ran ahead. He had really thought that the arctic fox had maybe liked his home, his food and would stay with him. In a way and just in a few hours, Namjoon had hoped that he would want to keep him company. That he maybe could open up to him. He chuckled to himself, as he turned the corner. He should have taken that sweet little cat instead. But he couldn't fool himself, he would have taken that hybrid over anything. His heart had decided in that moment. If Jimin or Hoseok would see him now, they would tease him about his ‘save the world’ issues again and how he was trying to make it right for everyone. Even for little white arctic foxes that were stubborn and defiant.

...

Yoongi stayed in the shadows, sneaking from house to house feeling like he could breathe more easily the further he got from his owner’s home. He needed to cross the river to get to the other part of the city. Because where Namjoon lived was the ‘nice’ part, he would definitely find more exclusive food in those dumpsters – but the police would be here within minutes because he would stand out like a sore thumb. On the other side though where the skyscrapers were piling up and the rundown parks and the concrete jungle were the norm lived, he just had to steal an old oversized parka with a hood to hide his ears and tail and he would be like the people who lived there and seamlessly blend into their lives. It wasn’t less risky to be there because there were gangs and drugs and all the other stuff you could find at the edge of the city but hybrid catchers normally didn’t went there – unless they were called.

Yoongi planned the route in his head, getting closer to his goal by the minute. He was quiet, listening, searching for any hint that told him that there were humans around. He didn’t have the luxury to stay in the shadows completely right now, he needed to cross streets and walk over illuminated sidewalks to get where he needed to be and he had to get there till morning or else Namjoon might have a chance to find him so he needed to be quick but also careful and he tried his best.

But it wasn’t enough.

He hadn’t heard them, hadn’t gotten any kind of smell because the street smell was so pungent (gasoline and tar and dirt) that he only saw them when it was too late and he had already stepped out of the shadows. It were policemen of all people. Both leaning against the hood of their car, one writing a text, the other looking up as if he was stargazing. They looked at each other, equally surprised and Yoongi reflexively brought his hand to his throat. But he was too late. He could see that the men had seen it: He didn’t wear a collar. Which was mandatory and maybe if he had jumped over his shadow and had taken the collar he had gotten in the pet shop with him even though he never wanted to wear one of those things again then he might have been able to talk his way out of this and explain why he was out, alone, at a time like this. But realistically he didn’t have a chance like this. So he ran.

They followed right on his heel and as fast as they could. A straying hybrid wasn’t something they could just ignore. They had to call a vet, get the hybrid somewhere safe or to an animal shelter. They caught up quickly. Yoongi had thought that he would be able to outpace them because he was fast and he used all the smaller streets where they couldn’t follow him by car but in this part of the city there were street lamps all over and comfortably broad streets with basically no useful backyards so they chased him down again and he ran as fast as he could and tried to push himself further and further because if he didn’t then all of this had been in vain...

His lungs were burning but he wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t, because if he didn’t outrun them and he got caught and they would sent him back to the pet shop..

The fear gripped Yoongi`s heart like an icy claw and he stumbled, losing focus and landing hard on the asphalt. He could hear the screeching of tires and when he was back on his feet there was a voice yelling at him, “Don’t move, fox or we will shoot!”

Yoongi stood motionless, panting. Everything in him screamed to flee, to run or at least try so that they wouldn’t get him. But he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live! Why couldn’t they just let him live! He pressed a hand over his mouth to keep from sobbing and heard a little click as the other man cocked his gun. It was over. They would shoot him if he didn’t comply and then he would die on the asphalt so far from home... he turned around and surrendered. They grabbed him by his arms and dragged the fox back to their vehicle to secure him. “Do you have an owner?” One of the policeman asked, trying to look for anything that could give away to whom the hybrid belonged to.

But Yoongi kept his lips sealed.

“He belongs to me!” Namjoon shouted breathlessly. He had seen the police lights down the street, running towards it on instinct. This wasn’t a bad part of town, at least not normally and Namjoon had somehow felt it in his guts that it could be Yoongi. The police had to take in stray animals, especially hybrid ones. “He’s m-mine…” Coming to a halt in front of the police men, he waved the leash around, supporting him with a hand on his knee from running so much. “It’s not his fault, really. It’s mine…he’s new and he didn’t know where we were. Midnight walk and all... I just got him.” Namjoon explained quickly, when the police man had raised his hand. “You know sir it is dangerous to others if you leave your pet running around like that, especially one that is predatory.”

Yoongi had almost felt relieved when he saw Namjoon - if his heart hadn’t ached so much and his lungs had been burning like he had just run for his life. In a way he had. He let Namjoon put the collar around his neck without any fight. He had no choice, really. Not with the police close by. It felt even heavier than he remembered.

Namjoon nodded in understanding and quickly put the collar around Yoongi while they were still holding the fox, but he couldn’t help himself but adding, “He’s not my pet, sir. He’s my hybrid.” He took the leash and let Yoongi step away from the men holding him, “There’s a difference.”

The policeman eyed him skeptically but didn’ reprimand him any further. It would mean lots of formalities to take them both to the department and the fox hadn’t really done anything wrong except for running away so he was able to let them both go like this. “Please take care Sir. Have a nice evening.” They both got back into their car, switching off the blue light and sirens and then drove away.

Yoongi walked besides Namjoon, ears and tail hanging low and eyes on the asphalt. He felt like someone was slowly, painfully choking him out.

Namjoon could feel the sadness coming from Yoongi in waves and he couldn’t help but feel defeated. He had tried, he really did but the white fox hadn’t even given him a real chance to make it a home for him. Namjoon quickly made a run for the kitchen, opening the fridge to get Yoongi a bottle of water because he figured he had been running a lot, when he saw the note the other had left there. He took it from the table, his heart beating fast as he read the shaky written letters. Freedom. Namjoon averted his gaze, folding the paper to put it into the back of his pocket. He lead the fox back to the pillow fort and turned on the cooler, leash still in hand as he sat down in front of him.

Yoongi had gone back home with him, waiting for the door to get locked behind him. Where else should he go. He hadn’t even managed to leave the quarter.

He was stuck here.

Caught.

Yoongi was afraid what Namjoon would do with him for trying to run and he tried to not let it show, his face an impassive mask. However the shudders that ran through him gave away how much he feared the punishment. He hadn’t seen any of the electronic sticks in Namjoon’s apartment yet but he must have bought something at the pet store to keep him in check. He didn’t want to find out what it was. But no matter what Namjoon did he wouldn’t cry. He had sworn himself that he would never cry in front of a human again, he wouldn’t ...he couldn’t... god it was so hard not to cry even now!

When Namjoon sat him down onto the bed he looked up at him, ready to accept whatever the other would do just to get this over with - because he felt like nothing could hurt as badly as realizing that your life was over. He could have realized it in the pet shop but something inside of him had still burned, still yearned to break free. He wasn’t sure if he could hold onto that any longer now.

“I am sorry,” Namjoon averted his gaze, licking over his lips nervously, “That people made you scared and hurt you, but I won’t. I really don’t want to hurt you. And…and in a way I understand, this is probably not the way you want to live.” He waved his hand around, pointing at his living room. “Why did you run away? You could have gotten hurt. Fox, I…” Namjoon stopped, deeply gazing into the hybrids eyes and then he understood. It felt like a small stab in his heart and Namjoon tried to gulp down the hurt he felt in this moment. “You don’t want to stay.” He concluded, “No matter what I do, right?” Namjoon wiped over his face, trying not to show how close it hit to home. “I…I know someone. A friend of mine. I can show you a picture tomorrow if you want. He has a farm…a really big one and the animals and hybrids there, they live freely with him. It’s really beautiful there.” He smiled at Yoongi and leaned in to reach for the collar, “Promise me not to run away again, okay? I will bring you somewhere safe. Somewhere where no one can imprison you. It will be your decision then but please wait until you see it…if you don’t want to go, then you’re free, okay? I…I won’t force you to stay.” Biting his lip, Namjoon kept it from trembling as he loosened the collar and got up. He ignored the sudden blur in his vision and the burn behind his eyes and turned around. “Please, think about it. Good night, Fox.”

To his surprise Namjoon started talking to him as if he wanted to understand, as if Yoongi’s opinion counted. He kept silent, still scared and wary and...lost but Namjoon didn’t hit him, didn’t threaten him, didn’t hurt him. Instead he told him that he might know a place where he could run and live and be a fox and despite better knowledge Yoongi started to hope. Just a teeny tiny little spark that he couldn’t push down. Then Namjoon turned, ready to leave him alone, placing the water bottle right besides Yoongi and this was what finally broke his defenses.

He had run and caused trouble with the police and Namjoon had chased after him in the middle of the night, found an excuse for him and then after everything he had to do because of him he wasn’t even angry or mean but gave him hope and water in case he needed it. If this was just a plot to make him trust him and to break his heart even harder later then Yoongi would risk it, just for the sake of that small flame of hope coming alive in his chest. It might be worth it, even if it might just last for a little while.

“Yoongi” He whispered, only barely loud enough for Namjoon to hear. “That’s my name.”

Namjoon turned to look over his shoulder with a faint smile. “Nice to meet you, Yoongi.” Not wanting to stretch it out even further, he simply turned and walked upstairs to his bedroom. He was tired and exhausted anyways. Namjoon sighed deeply when he fell into bed, not even really caring about pulling the blanket in, he’d probably kick it away anyways. Nonetheless, there was a smile on his lips.

...

The nightmares were something Namjoon had for a while now. It had gotten worse lately. His anxiety forming into bad dreams haunting him at night, making him sometimes mumble, kick or scream in his sleep before he woke up with a heavy heart and mind and sweat dripping down his forehead. That was one of the reasons why everyone had told him to get a pet. To have company. It was easier for him to sleep next to someone, the heartbeat of another person calming Namjoon and the cushion he was pulling in now could only give him so much.

Yoongi actually enjoyed his pillowfort, pulling the blanket completely over his form so that it made him feel like a den and then curled into himself. He sighed comfortably. Namjoon was a complete set of stairs away so he would wake in time if the other came back down which meant he was safe enough to actually properly fall asleep. Sleeping in the pet shop had been horrible because of all the different animals and the humming of the electricity and the cold metal bars of the cage on his back, because he needed to feel something on his back to feel safe but of course the bars only made it worse because one could still reach through and touch him... so this was like heaven. He comfortably curled his tail up to his face so that he could hold onto it and have fur under his fingertips and then he fell asleep quicker than he had ever done before since he had been captured.

It had seemed like a calm night.

Namjoon felt content that Yoongi had decided to open up to him, the exhaustion settling into his body and making him fall asleep...until the very early morning when he was running in his dreams again. Fast. Faster. He just needed to be quicker than whatever was behind him. He couldn’t see it, he never really could but Namjoon could feel it. Everything in Namjoon screamed for him not to let it get to close or else it would swallow him whole. Mumbling something in his sleep, Namjoon whipped around. He needed to be quicker. He screamed and with that scream, Namjoon sat upright in his bed like all the nights before, panting heavily, his heart threatening to just fail on him.

Yoongi was up on his paws within seconds, his tail puffed up in distress, ears pressed flat against his head. The scream had sounded horrible, full of fear and desperation. It had cut right through his sweetest dream and ripped him back into reality. It was Namjoon who had screamed like that, he had recognized his voice. And even now with his ears flat and a whole set of stairs between them he could still hear Namjoon panting and rustling with his bed sheets. Yoongi carefully stalked closer, sniffing the air. No one could have come inside, he would have woken up, smell another person in here. But what he could smell was fear, strong and sickeningly sweet. Namjoon was scared. He must have had a nightmare. Yoongi was stunned.

So Namjoon trying to fall asleep in front of the TV before hadn’t been an accident and the human had trouble sleeping. He wondered what is was that haunted him. He had half a mind to go upstairs and ask if he was okay but who knew how the other would react when he was frightened so he rather stayed down here and listened. Soon enough Namjoon’s feet hit the floor as the other apparently got out of bed. Yoongi waited - and then he realized that the footsteps came his direction and that Namjoon would soon round the corner and see him at the foot of the stairs. Yoongi quickly turned, running into the very next room, which was the kitchen - realizing his mistake too late. Namjoon wasn’t going to the bathroom. He would come in here, to drink. His quickly tried to flatten his tail that was still puffy from before and then acted nonchalantly as if it was totally normal to stand in the kitchen and do nothing in the middle of the night.

Namjoon sighed deeply as he tiptoed down the stairs, hoping not to wake up the hybrid, but it was too late, when he saw him standing pressed against the kitchen counter. “Ah, Yoongi,” He clasped his heart, “Don’t scare me like that in the dark. Are you alright?” Namjoon couldn’t help himself but look up at the window to see if the other had tried to escape again but found it closed to his own surprise. He opened the counter to get a glass and filled it with tap water, looking at Yoongi over the edge. “You couldn’t sleep or…” Namjoon blushed, averting his gaze as it hit him. Yoongi probably had heard his scream and it scared him, just as much as his dream had frightened himself. “I...I am sorry if I woke you up. Please don’t be scared...I just have nightmares sometimes. And trouble with sleeping in general. I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders, quickly taking another sip from the water again. “Don’t worry about it.”

"Yeah, I noticed." His tail twitched nervously with them both standing together in the kitchen like that. Maybe it was the darkness that made him feel bold or the way Namjoon acted; almost as if he was ashamed for his nightmares. "What are they about then?" He stared at Namjoon, eyes gleaming like gemstones in the dimmed light. "What are you afraid of? Me?"

Namjoon shook his head immediately, “No, of course not. I always struggled with my sleeping schedule...always been like that and it gets worse when I’m stressed out and stuff.” He smiled at Yoongi reassuringly, placing the cup back on the counter. “You don’t have to worry about me, please.” Namjoon leaned over to the window, seeing how the sun was slowly starting to rise, dipping the street into a beautiful morning light. “I don’t think I can go back to sleep, guess I’ll just start my day earlier then.” Namjoon reached out for Yoongi, stopping mid-ways as he realized what he had wanted to do, fighting the urge to just ruffle through the others hair and quickly pulled back his hand. “Do you need anything? Y-you can still sleep. I’ll get my laptop and work upstairs. And maybe some coffee.”

Yoongi immediately tensed when Namjoon reached out for him without warning, getting even more confused when the other changed his mind midways and turned away. He had no idea what to make of Namjoon's behaviour. He was definitely nicer than Yoongi could have ever dreamt of (if he wouldn't show a different side of him later) but sometimes it felt as if Namjoon didn't know how to act himself. He ignored Namjoons question (he wouldn't be able to sleep when he knew that the other was awake anyway) and instead asked bluntly, "Namjoon? What did you get me for? Why did you buy me even though I scratched you. At first I thought you might like the idea of breaking a rebellious spirit - but that's not it, is it?"

Namjoon stopped, turning back to look at Yoongi and then simply shrugged his shoulders. “Honestly, I am not so sure.” He chuckled to himself and went over to his coffee machine pulling out the filter while he was talking and filling it up with new coffee, “You know...I wanted to get a cat. Hence all the cat stuff around...excuse that, please. I had a sleepless night and bought everything I thought I would need.” Namjoon smiled over his shoulder towards the hybrid, before pushing the red button to make the water boil and soon give him his delicious bitter nectar that he needed to stay awake. “It was an idea of a friend of mine a while back to get a pet. I first thought about a dog, then about a cat, more precisely a kitten.” Turning back around, he added in a mumble, “So, I wouldn’t be so alone anymore in this house.” Leaning against the kitchen counter, Joon turned to look at Yoongi, “And I knew they were lying about you. About where you came from...I couldn’t just leave you there, I guess. It was a quick decision...I don’t know what came over me but then I was starting to like the idea. I think you have the fluffiest and most prettiest ears i’ve seen. And it was my fault after all that you scratched me. I should have asked you if you were alright with it."

Yoongi's eyes widened as Namjoon spoke so openly with him. So the other had been lonely - and then reacted on instinct. If this was true then Yoongi was the luckiest hybrid he knew. He flushed deeply and suddenly when Namjoon complimented his ears, moving them back and forth in embarrassment. He was very proud of the thickness of his fur but he hadn't been able to take care of it as much as he would have liked. "It would be even softer and fluffier if you'd let me take a bath," He mumbled shyly and then quickly changed the subject, "And you're right, I wasn't raised to be a pet. I was born free somewhere close to the suburbs. When there was no more food I had to get closer to people - and they caught me." It was easy to talk to Namjoon when the other looked so harmless, soft and sleepy with his eyes a little glassy.

“I am sorry,” A soft, apologetic, smile played on his lips and Namjoon nodded outside of the kitchen, not wanting to dig deeper, yet when Yoongi just started to open up. “Well, I told you, you could simply use either the bathroom down- or upstairs...though I only have a bathtub in the one right next to my bedroom. You’re free to use it. Do you want me to get you any kind of special shampoo or...wanna just use mine? I got some kind of kitten shampoo there, too? It’s for extra soft and fluffy fur?” He scrunched up his nose cutely, letting his dimples show, before explaining the way to the bathroom although he was sure Yoongi would find it easily, there were only three rooms upstairs - his office, the bedroom and the master bathroom. Yoongi played with the end of his tail in thought. Fur wasn’t exactly human hair so he probably was better off with the kitten stuff even though he felt a little embarrassed asking for it. “I think… fluffy fur sounds good.”

“I’ll prepare breakfast for us in a bit, so take your time with cleaning. Oh and,” Namjoon spoke up, making Yoongi turn again, “I’ll try to reach Taehyung in a bit. He’s always up early...so we’ll get you your freedom back and make sure you’re safe.” With that he turned to get out a pan, eggs and some bacon, starting to prepare some food.

Yoongi was glad that the one with the bathtub was upstairs because it would make him feel safer to know that there was no one around while he was undressing. He folded his clothes into a neat pile and then let in the water. When he sunk in tub he sighed in pure bliss. It had been ages since he had been able to get into water and the little lakes close to the city were either filled with bracky water or used for swimming by humans.

This though, this was absolute heaven!

A/N: There we go again! What do you guys think? Will Yoongi open up and stay until Namjoon can show him Tae’s farm? Also who’s ready to meet Tae and his hybrids ;)

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