#because believe me i WANT to tip servers i WANT to make sure that everyone is paid

[swamp-world]

like i think that we really really really need to actually gain the social literacy and compassion to understand that. not tipping your server isn’t praxis, but the fact that it’s expected that the customer pay the wage of the server also doesn’t mean that the customer (often also stiffed and a victim of wage theft) isn’t obligated to do so, and that while this is within our own economic system a great injustice and act of violence that needs to be rectified, it is in fact not the greatest injustice in the world and seeing people comparing getting screamed at for war crimes to not being tipped demonstrates a drastic lack of any sense of proportion. this is me speaking as both a service worker and someone engaged in organizing. let me be absolutely clear that I am not saying that not tipping your server is praxis. if you are able to tip i think that you should. i also think that “it’s the social contract in america to tip your server” needs to be read as “the structure has been built so that resisting it is tantamount to being a class traitor, and there are no winners in this situation”. i make less than 1k a month. tipping at 15% is straight up not viable all of the time if i want to pay rent. that’s not praxis, that’s me trying to keep a roof over my head, same as the service worker who i can’t always tip. so much analysis of this matter on social media tends to boil down to brute utilitarianism that causes further fragementation among the working class, and not for unjust reasons.

but just as not tipping my server isn’t praxis, tipping my server also isn’t praxis. not because it doesn’t help the individual (it does) but because it functionally validates the extant system in which the customer directly pays the wages. especially in the digital age: whereas cash tips are often considered nontaxable income, digital tips are administered as directly taxable income by the employer. when tips are paid out as wages i think it’s a little unfair to consider them to be “gratuities”.

again: not tipping isn’t praxis, but i wonder often about how many people who parrot this point are engaged in labour organizing or support in any way other than tipping. everyone deserves to be paid for their labour. but likewise, putting the onus on the working class customer to do so doesn’t actually help anyone except for the employer.

if you’re getting pissed at other working-class people for not tipping high numbers, especially impoverished and/or marginalized people, i hope that you are also engaged in literally any form at all, no matter how intense or dedicated, to any kind of action or organization that supports increasing minimum wage and shifting this responsibility from the customer to the employer (i.e. working class to owning class).

[draagu]

Hello fellow anxiety haver! I have a question. Have You ever Made Friends online if so how did You do it? Ando any tips? (Its really difficult for me)

ello!

i have made quite a few online friends and i love em dearly! im pretty sure all my closest ones ive met over shared interests haha

my oldest friends i had joined a server for an animator and chatted in that server enough to get to know everyone and we stuck together! albeit i was a lot lot less anxious when i was younger so that probably helped

for my newer friends (i think you know who you are! hi love u :)) it was kind of a similar story. shared interest was rain world, most of them were mutuals at first and then i made the emote server and we all got chatting and yay! friends :D

i think a big part of it is just getting over the initial fear of speaking up and sharing some stuff that interests you, eventually people who share similar interests or personalities will want to talk as well! its not always going to hit off but you will find people and make friends

i wish i could say more but i cant give much more tips than that because i honestly don't know how i got here either, though i couldn't be more grateful.

overthinking stuff i say and my brain being mean to me about everything wont change anytime soon but generally its all going to be okay!

best of luck to you anon, i believe in you!

[stories-from-the-shaded-moon]

The Shine of the Moon

Astrin belongs to me

Mossie belongs to @vio-starzz

These are OCs from a very cool rp discord server that needs to be revived because-🥺🥺

He knew that he’d find fae here. Alone. As usual. So he joined them on the rooftop under the dim white light of the moon.

Their legs dangled off the side. Part of Astrin thought that leaning over even a little would make him fall. He leaned over anyway.

He wished that he had brought wine or his cigarettes, but he was more keen on finding Mossie. He remembered the Mossie also drank.

There were times like that when he had to remember that they were immortal. Then there were times that he had to remember that he, too, was immortal, tied to the overworld until it was inevitably destroyed. And his life will continue even after that. So will Mossie’s.

He finds himself chuckling at his own grueling thoughts. He catches the glance Mossie gives him. He shows fae a smile, but his eyes didn’t match his face.

“You up here thinking too?” Mossie nodded. Mossie was usually thinking. Sometimes it was about how much of a monster they were, but no matter how much Astrin explained how similar they were, Mossie would never believe him when he called himself a monster.

Mossie went back to looking up at the moon. Astrin sighed. He didn’t really know how to be an older brother. It also made it harder that he technically wasn’t the oldest here.

He tried to remember his older sister, but when he did, the bitter memories of his mother came with it. He remembered when he would be beaten and his sister would stand to the side and watch as he screamed for her. What kind of sibling would stand and watch as their sibling was forced to bleed?

Not Astrin. That’s one thing he knew for sure. He’d die before he ever allowed anyone to take his siblings’ blood.

He sighed. How was he supposed to work with Mossie? He acted differently around everyone individually. Around Cyrus, he could be the weirdest man alive, but around Callahan, he needed to act strong and like the assassin that he is. All of that just to get the tiefling’s respect and yet, he’s not even sure if he’s earned it yet. Probably not.

Mossie raised fae’s hands and started signing. “Why are you up here?”

Astrin contemplated whether he should speak or sign. Most of him chose to be non-verbal for now. “I came to check on you.”

“Why?”

Astrin hesitated signing because I love you, it would probably make things weird or Mossie might run away. The last thing he needed was that panic he felt when Mossie disappeared. He remembered the first time it happened, when he had spilled all of his feelings to Belle and Rowena on the bloody bathroom floor. Only by the grace of the gods did those two not spill everything to the others.

He shook his head and tried to think about another response.

“Because I wanted to make sure you weren’t gone again.”

“Why does it matter if I’m gone or not?”

To Astrin, it felt like Mossie was fishing for an I love you, and it killed him internally.

“I told you before that I care about you.”

“But why?!” Mossie spoke. Fae’s voice was barely over a whisper.

Because I love you. The words were at the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth, searching for a different response, but it took him too long.

“You don’t even have a reason! You can’t just…love everyone!”

“I don’t love everyone. I love only two or three people in this world.”

“Who are?”

“Cyrus, you, and-“

“Jaz, the same guy that walked right out of here without a single word.” Astrin paused, recoiling from what fae said. He felt a weight in his body drop. He felt heat rise into his face. The bluntness of fae’s voice angered him.

“Love is complicated Mossie!” He didn’t mean to shout.

Mossie stared at Astrin. He took a deep breath and prayed for his anger to dissolve. He looked down at the ground that awaited him when he eventually fell off of the roof.

“I’m sorry,” Astrin whispered, feeling tears start to swell.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Mossie shake fae’s head. He assumed that fae was disappointed in him. Who wasn’t at this point? “I’m sorry Mossie.”

But fae was right. How could you love someone who just left? How many days could you live in denial before you finally accepted that they were gone and they were never coming back?

He felt fae pat his back and another flare of anger sparked. He signed, wiping the loose tears away. He straightened himself and decided to stare at the moon.

“You know,” Mossie spoke. “I think that you’re like the moon…”

Astrin chuckled. “And that means?”

“You rely on others to be seen.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

[iztarshi]

oh boy, i believe i recognize what au "raphael vs aoi" is from! i didn't realize you were writing it, tell me more :D

I think I did share this snippet on the server! But I am very happy to talk about this AU.

First, context for anyone who does not know about a Very Specific turtle AU XD

This is a server AU where the various iterations of turtles are werewolf packs living in the same area. This kind of started with the meta thought of werewolves as "monster, curse or animal", due to the different ways horror movies can treat them and the different ways they might view themselves, and how this overlaps with how mutant turtles see themselves.

87 are wolves that were turned into werewolves accidentally by werewolf Splinter (they attacked him, he's very sorry he bit them, they are not that sorry they have thumbs now).

03 are experiments that were rescued by their (different) Splinter (they were human to begin with but don't remember it, Splinter was a wolf).

12 Splinter was a werewolf hunter who rescued some baby werewolves rather than kill them. They bit him in the process so he's been hiding out with them since. He's raised them to view it as a curse, they're the only ones that lock themselves up at full moon.

Rise are a different kind of experiment, with the blood of Old Ones (Krang) injected into them, making huge semi-humanoid demonic wolves at full moon. They're nice kids! But scary as hell. Lou Jitsu!Splinter is a vampire because Big Mama would be, wouldn't she? He can turn into a wolf as a result! Also a bat, but that's less good for family bonding.

We gave everyone different names, as well, which I'm not going to relate here. But it's important that Aoi is Rise!Leo while the 87 turtles are the ones who kept the original names.

So! 87 Raphael is usually the least angry Raphael - if any of his fans are reading this I need to note that as a pre-emptive apology - but he has a really bad time in Red Sky. So one of the things we were playing with in the werewolf AU was shifting things more towards Red Sky at some point both because it gives 87 werewolf issues (being hunted, feeling resentful) and because it makes 87 the oldest for a fun switch from them being the young, silly ones.

This snippet was me running with that idea, and with the fact that 87!Raphael gets less funny and more bitter under pressure but Rise!Leo just doubles down on the jokes. I'm not really sure I got Raphael's voice here, even at his most aggressive. But the idea of Aoi having his coping mechanism treated as annoying and broken by someone who usually shares it still feels like something.

*

The thing is. The thing is, it’s not really your fault. You’re not used to this, not used to feeling like this, and you’re not even sure if this is the way things have been going lately or the wolf hormones finally hitting. You’ve always been the quickest to yip and nip and tease but roll over as soon as anyone sends a glare your way. Suddenly you’re standing next to Donatello and Leonardo staring down Michelangelo when he starts bouncing along and poking at things.

That’s not the thing though. Making Michelangelo sad isn’t your fault either, but it’s not the thing.

The town’s feeling more hostile lately. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know what a mob looks like even before they grab the torches and pitchforks. It’s pretty certain you’re immune to pitchforks, but you’re not immune to torches, even if you’re not as flammable as Yoshi’s pack. That’s not counting the hunter someone hired who used silver bullets. Silver. Normal bullets bounce off you. These go through you and they burn all the way.

So you’ve always been the one to make a joke but not much seems funny right now. You’re territorial, uncertain, powerful, you’re picking fights with Leonardo, you’re terrified, you want it all to stop.

And Aoi made a dumb joke like everything was normal.

He’s a monster in wolf form. Huge, long limbs to reach for you tipped by tearing claws, with an uncanny ability to fade into the shadows. That didn’t stop you going for his throat like a bullet.

The look on his face, ears folded down, eyes wide and averted, the way he’d thrown himself back from you as if you were the size of Shuiro. Like you’d attacked a puppy.

Then he’d perked his ears up, lolling his tongue out in that weird doggy laugh he affects.

You switched to human form, soft hands and blunt nails. A signal that you weren’t going to fight that didn’t require backing down. “Get out of here, Aoi,” you said. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

You think maybe you shouldn’t have said that. You haven’t seen him since. He’s fine, though. If he was actually missing you’d have heard from all three of his brothers. He’s just avoiding you.

Aoi’s not the stupid puppy he acts like. He can handle some hurt feelings.

And anyway, it’s not your fault.

[silver-moon1]

International Travel & Arrest

The two movies really opened my eyes to what can happen when a U.S citizen commits a crime in an international territory (whether it was intentional or unintentional). I learned that the way we handle crimes in the U.S. is nothing compared to how some countries handle crime and prison sentences. Let alone the fact that the US embassy can only really make sure you aren't abused or starved while in prison, but other than that they can't do much else.

One thing that frustrated me during the Bangladesh episode was watching her fight for the roses because they were a gift. Had she thrown them out the drugs wouldn't have been strapped to her and she may have never gone to prison in the first place. The episode made me realize that if you get arrested in a different country you really have little to no say in what happens from the point of being arrested and so on. They take you from one facility to the next and don't fill you in on much otherwise. You don't even get as much as a phone call. I felt like as a U.S. citizen you would still be treated as such even in a different country, but I was very wrong after seeing these movies. It was interesting that the Bangladesh prison allowed the man from the US embassy to visit her every month, but it frustrated me that he wasn't the one to get her out of prison. How could he do so little for a US citizen? Especially when they kept insinuating that they have the death penalty and she could potentially get it. If I were her I would've felt so paranoid of getting the death penalty for one dumb mistake. The scene when the prison guards took coo-coo in the middle of the night for her execution was incredibly unsettling. Especially when they turned off the lights as well to essentially let everyone know what was going on. It was also very difficult to feel sorry for her because TSA in this instance was only doing their job in order to keep mass transit safe and arrest her for smuggling drugs. It was ultimately her fault although her situation and desperation for money was very sad. During the whole episode I though that it was interesting when she began to read/learn their language and appreciate the culture while in prison. I think this was an act to make the most of things and maintain her sanity, but it also gave her a different perspective on life that she wouldn't have had without going to prison. The films are similar in this aspect because both women wouldn't take what happened back because it changed them for the better.

In the "Brokedown Palace" what surprised me the most was that the girls were given a statement in Thai, which they couldn't read. It was like they wanted to trick them into a confession which isn't fair at all considering they didn't commit the crime they were accused for. I also could not believe that at the end of the movie she took her sentence and the length of her friends' sentence so that her friend would be free to go home. The entire movie felt as though they had no chance of redemption or glimpse of freedom in sight. How could they not find the guy responsible, who framed them for their crime? It was also very interesting how food had to be earned and that visits were very informal and outdoors. The conversations were not private. You basically had to yell over people just to hear what they were saying.

I think overall travelers/tourists have a responsibility when they travel abroad to become knowledgeable about the norms and customs of the country they are visiting. It is important to be respectful and maintain awareness of others and how to behave while in a different country. Just because you are a U.S. citizen doesn't give you the freedom to do what you want with no consequences as a result of your actions. So do research before you travel on what you can and more importantly CANNOT do in a foreign country. Something as simple as tipping a server can be seen as disrespectful and rude. So do your part and do the research.

[meowzfordayz]

bff

Author’s Note: 10/10 would be 11/10 happy w/ these bffs. 😭💞

bff

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tokito Muichiro x Reader

Word Count: ~1,500

CW: explicit language, platonic

Emergency Request Fulfilled: can i request platonic fluffy hcs for muichiro and/or genya— separate ofc, with a fem/gn (thats really up to you) childhood friend!hashira reader whos very loving? (not a hashira if genya!)

for example always holding on in someway, giving hugs, cuddles, kisses (on the hair/scalp or hands only), giving alot of attention, and friendly overall.

how they interact, feel, maybe even defend them if someone makes a comment abt them for ‘leading him on’ bcs they dont love him romantically *totally didnt happen to me once* i mean.. its like 1920 its bound to happen, react to dating assumptions, ect.

~faqs, image~

Bff!Kyojuro who, to be quite frank, doesn’t exactly make you laugh directly, but constantly makes you laugh indirectly, because how could you not laugh at how hard he makes himself laugh ??

Bff!Kyojuro who’s only slightly embarrassing to go out for meals with (his moaning exclamations of delight and contentment as he eats are, uhh, fairly loud), but you’re never truly embarrassed — really, you just wish you had his level of obliviousness confidence

Bff!Kyojuro who grins brightly whenever the server assumes you’re on a date “Which date do you think we’re on?”; who grins even brighter when the server’s eyes widen as he promptly announces “Beyond five hundred!” (of course, the server doesn’t have any way of knowing that those ~dates were entirely platonic and span a decade+); who tips the server generously if they mention proposing or marriage

Bff!Kyojuro who takes your scolding Stop fooling everyone into believing we’re a couple! with a grain of salt, because you do the exact same thing (it’s a miracle that your friends continue to fall for your We’re finally, actually, literally official! prank)

Bff!Kyojuro who raids your pantry with zero shame; cooks a second portion—for you—of whatever he’s craving; randomly stocks your fridge from time to time (he has a key to your apartment — it’s a regular occurrence for you to return home to new groceries and a sticky note “Reimbursement for our recent movie night!”)

Bff!Kyojuro who comes over with his old clothes because you get first priority/pickings before they’re donated

Bff!Kyojuro who pouts when you refuse to cuddle with him You’re too fricking sweaty

Bff!Kyojuro who retaliates by sitting on you

Bff!Kyojuro who writes you the sweetest birthday letters; you have a box with 10+ letters for all the years you’ve known him; it’s your tradition to read them in order (oldest to newest) every night after the celebration dies down and everyone (besides Kyojuro) heads home; he starts cleaning while you sit and read; it’s also tradition that by the final (newest) letter, you’re sobbing (happily) into his chest

Cleaning can wait

Bff!Kyojuro who believes in you, supports you, would move to another country for you — he has his own ambitions and dreams, sure, and they’re as adaptable and flexible as his adoration for you

Bff!Kyojuro who knows he can show up at your apartment at ass o’ clock, cheeks tear stained, heart ruptured, because you’re there for him too

You told him once that You’re my non romantic soulmate, and feeling your palms cup his face—your gaze tired, concerned, angry for him—he knows, “You’re my non romantic soulmate too.”

Bff!Sanemi who’s kinda your frenemy ?? except more friend than enemy (albeit, it took years to achieve that ratio)

Bff!Sanemi who excels at the little things

Bff!Sanemi who picks you up from the airport, the bar, really anywhere if you give him enough time to get there

Bff!Sanemi who knows your allergies, health conditions, fears — double checks whenever you dine out, carries extras of generic medication on him, keeps an eye on you ~just in case

Bff!Sanemi who remembers the things you want but I don’t need it though; has a literal list of items to buy/make for special occasions (i.e. birthdays, holidays) as well as ~just because (i.e. he misses you, you’re annoying him); ensures the list never runs out, “But you deserve it.”

Bff!Sanemi who’s very competitive and very mean about it — Monopoly, Go Fish, War, Scrabble, and puzzles are in the DO NOT PLAY WITH SHINAZUGAWA SANEMI category

Bff!Sanemi who has almost destroyed your friendship over Monopoly’s houses and hotels rules, cheating when shuffling cards, bullshit words in Scrabble, and overall raging (puzzles in particular)

Bff!Sanemi who doodles Sharpie tattoos on your forearms whenever you fall asleep before him, bUT TO BE FAIR — they’re always lowkey beautiful

Bff!Sanemi who’d be honored to draw the art for your first tattoo (if you so desired a tattoo), and would be just as honored if you drew the art for his first tattoo

Bff!Sanemi who’s adamantly against matching tattoos, but he’s got nothing to worry about considering your styles differ… significantly… (aka, for the sake of these hcs, his doodles of eyes actually look like eyes, whereas yours look like… scary)

Bff!Sanemi who kisses your bruises and scrapes (acquired from careless tripping, stubbing, falling) first “Are you okay?!”, and then laughs and points at you second “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Bff!Sanemi who: if you’re good at cooking — buys you ingredients and ~forces you to cook; if you’re bad at cooking — delegates setting the table, choosing the playlist, washing the dishes to you (while he cooks instead)

Bff!Sanemi who dances with you in the kitchen, which could be cute except that he takes it very seriously

Bff!Sanemi who grumbles when you accidentally step on his foot, insults your skill, “You’d be knocked out first round from any dance competition.”, rolls his eyes when you mutter It’s not that deep, and inevitably turns stepping on feet into a merciless battle that he unfortunately and usually wins

Bff!Sanemi who reluctantly massages your feet afterwards (winner’s remorse)

You told him once that You’re a menace. My menace, and as he stares at your playful fierce glare, he’s inclined to agree

Bff!Muichiro who cuts the tops off your strawberries; unshells your sunflower seeds (a true act of selflessness); shares his fries I’m fine! “I insist.” But Mui- “Less staring, more eating.”; lets you sip his frappes before he does

Bff!Muichiro who grabs your hand as you cross the street together, squeezing protectively, eyebrows furrowed with endearing focus considering, well, yanno We’re just crossing the street!

Bff!Muichiro who holds open doors for you; jams his foot in closing elevators for you; waits in lines for you

Bff!Muichiro who listens to you ramble for hours—tucked into your favorite corner of his couch—while playing mindlessly with your hair, David Attenborough narrating about whales or something in the background

Bff!Muichiro who kisses the top of your head after playing with your hair; hands migrating to your shoulders; searching for and gently kneading at any knots

Bff!Muichiro who learns your favorite braids, and either creates masterpieces with your hair and/or allows you to “Go wild.” with his (depending on who has better/ideal hair for braiding)

Bff!Muichiro who keeps extra hair ties on his wrist; for himself in case you spontaneously decide he needs a make over; for yourself (when applicable) in case you break/forget/lose yours

Bff!Muichiro who surprises you with picnics in meadows of wildflowers (the long drives are 100% worth it) because wildflowers = flower crowns = the best accessories

Bff!Muichiro whose entire Instagram is basically photos of you, himself, and you with him, featuring your plethora of creations

Bff!Muichiro who tags you as Hair Stylist: @--- or Model: @--- because, “Credit where credit is due.”

Bff!Muichiro who replies with vague 😁 and ☺️ and random heart emojis to You guys are too cute! and Dayum you really outdid yourselves and Where is this? It’s sooo prettyyy comments on aforementioned posts

Bff!Muichiro who never discloses locations because he cherishes the privacy and intimacy of his time spent with you

Bff!Muichiro who rarely allows you to move (when you’re cozied up on his couch), tugging sternly at your earlobe, “Hungry?” as you inch toward the kitchen, “You’re my guest. Stay put! I’ll go.”

Bff!Muichiro who has your coffee/tea/preferred beverage order memorized, and if you don’t have a usual, then he still knows your moods and somehow always picks the perfect drink to satisfy you

Bff!Muichiro who can’t promise to not watch the next episode(s) of your favorite show(s) without you, but is happy to rewatch them to your heart’s content

Bff!Muichiro who scoffs when mutual acquaintances—sometimes even mutual friends—poke and pry at his friendship with you, because he knows where he stands with you, and that’s what matters most

Bff!Muichiro whose tone turns icy, impatient, rude when pushed too far, “Leading me on? I choose to be their friend, and they choose to be mine. We know how we feel, and that’s enough.”

Bff!Muichiro who could write entire essays in your defense, but finds that cutting to the chase is generally more effective

Bff!Muichiro who refuses to stop nudging you with his elbows, tickling you to get his way, offering you piggybacks when you’re lazy/sleepy, because, “I don’t care about rumors. I care about you. If you’re happy with our friendship as it is, and I’m certainly happy with it, then what’s there to change?”

Bff!Muichiro who hugs you for as long as you want—for as long as you need—regardless of whose around

You told him once that Your hugs could cure practically anything, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t live up to your standards

[lonely-lost-soul]

Where Loyalties Lie

(Technoblade X reader) 

Request 3: Can we get a little angsty fic or headcanon of Techno trying to get the reader to leave L’manberg?

Requested By: Anonymous

~~~

     “Tubbo please take a deep breath,” You followed him around the rubble as he paced restlessly. 

     “I’m president of a crater (Y/n)!” The boy pulled on his ears with a loud whine, “What am I gonna do. I can’t believe Wilbur blew it up-” He felt your hands touch his own and gently pull them away from his oversensitive goat ears. “What am I gonna do? I-I’m a kid…” You frowned, moving to cup his cheek with your hand. He nuzzled into it desperately, welcoming the comforting touch of someone who he considered family. 

     “You’re going to get through it because you’re strong.” You told him, “and so brave little ram.” He flushed pink letting out a whine of protest especially because he was still surrounded by most of his friends. 

You watch as Quackity walked over to the both of you and placed his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder squeezing it, “We’ll rebuild. We’ll be right behind you Tubbo.” He smiled at the kid and you couldn’t help but smile over at him. 

     “Thank you both. Truly.” 

There was one thing that had you were worried you may come to regret, and that was not taking Technoblade’s hand as he fled from the country. You were close almost touching it, he looked like he wanted to beg for you too but one desperate cry from Tubbo had you pulling away. He looked heartbroken but at the same time, you saw understanding in his deep red eyes. 

Family came first. 

That day he pulled you close pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be back for you.” 

You murmured a soft I’m sorry, turning to find Tubbo to make sure he wasn’t injured or dying. The thoughts of the festival replaying in your head, you couldn’t go through that...not again especially because now Tubbo was officially on his last life. Tommy couldn’t fathom how you didn’t blame Technoblade for what happened that day, but to you, two things were clear: one was that Tubbo didn’t blame him which made it easier on your end to forgive him; two Schlatt was manipulative and overwhelming as fuck you can’t blame someone for something they were peer pressured into doing. Speaking of Tommy you ended up finding Tubbo and him in the rubble that day, the taller male was pressing cloth to Tubbo’s bleeding arm desperately, when you took over and Tommy seemed grateful. 

However, you had to push your possible regrets aside and focus on the new nation you’d help build, and build it you did. You worked endlessly for months on end creating a lovely new nation for people to live in, Tubbo had dubbed it New L’manburg. You felt his pride and happiness, he just loved seeing everyone together again and happy once again. Finally, the server felt somewhat normal after all that destruction, even if there was a Techno-shaped hole in your heart. Things changed rather quickly when Tubbo was, in your eyes, manipulated to exile Tommy by Dream. You had tried to argue for the boy saying that not only was he Tubbo’s friend but just a kid. You were shut down harshly by not only Dream but Tubbo as well, the look in his eyes was filled with so much loathing and frustration. It’s the first time he ever snapped and was harsh to you, you felt your own frustration bubble up in your chest. You turned on your heel and marched back up into your house, you were not going to put up with this behavior. When you slammed the door shut, and turned around to find Technoblade standing in your living room,  with your cat purring fondly on his shoulders; you almost screamed.

     “Heh- why are you scared it’s just me?” The hybrid complained his nose scrunching up, “Don’t be cringe- oof-” Techno grunted as you threw your arms around his waist, the man flushed to the tips of his ears and looked away from you, Taffy hopped off his shoulders disgruntledly, “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.” He pet the top of your head tenderly and you looked up at him with a smile. 

     “What’re you doing here Tech? If Tubbo finds out he’ll have your head.” 

     “Then I guess we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find me then huh?” He mused lips, quirking into a smile, and you nodded in agreement. “Other than that just running some errands. I’m in retirement now you know. I have to say that ‘New L’Manburg’ is certainly a name.” He did air quotes around the name and you nudged him, 

     “Be nice.”

     “Boo Cringe. I’m a Blood God starlight. I don’t do nice.” 

     “Bullshit,” You punched him in the arm, “Tea?” 

     “Please.” He cracked a smile as you walked over to your tea kettle heating the water and grabbing some tea bags. 

     “So, you came here to run some errands huh? I almost thought you missed me?” Technoblade shuffled a little behind you, how could you read him so perfectly? It was complete and utter bullshit. You heard him click his tongue distastefully behind you and you couldn’t help but smirk cheekily,

     “Get off my back woman.” He stated gruffly as you laughed, “but I guess I do miss you a little bit.” You smiled fondly and softly cooed at him and he let out another scoff, 

     “A little bit?”

     “What is this interrogation? You a cop now?” You placed his tea in front of him and he took a sip,

     “Yeah, we’re gonna need to do a strip search. Drop your pants.” Technoblade choked on his drink, face turning the darkest shade of red you’ve ever seen from him. You howled with laughter sliding down in your seat beside the man. 

     “I changed my mind. I didn’t miss you at all, you’re a terror.”

     “You love me, admit it.”

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He murmured looking at you with a sudden softness that was out of character for him. You didn’t notice the change but it was there, oh if only you knew how much of what you said was true. He did love you. He ran his tongue across his teeth and reached out to interlock your hands within his own. 

     “Come live with me.” 

     “Tech…”

     “I’m in retirement now. I’m going to get some turtles hopefully, maybe some other pets while I’m at it. There’s a lot of room...It gets lonely all alone you know. It’d be nice to have you there with me.” He watched hesitance flicker across your face again just like the day Wilbur blew up L’Manburg. Your thoughts went to Tubbo and how much he needed you, especially now that Tommy was exiled. However, you were also brought back to a few moments ago where Tubbo snapped at you for trying to help. You took a ragged breath and pushed his hand away, he frowned sadly bringing his hand back down to his lap. 

     “I need to be here for Tubbo. He’s a kid Tech...way over his head. Dreams sniffing around him like a dog looking for his next victim to manipulate. I can’t let that happen, not to him. I know he’s President of this nation and you hate him for that, but he’s my brother and I love him. He’s a tough kid with a lot of fire, but I can’t just leave him in the dust. I love you,” You reached up and cupped his cheek and Technoblade felt his cheeks burn at the implication, “but I can’t leave until Tubbo is safe.” 

     “I’ll convince you one day.” Technoblade shot back even though his heart ached, that you wouldn’t be coming home with him. But Technoblade wasn’t known for giving up. He was stubborn as hell, he’d win you over yet. You’d come home with him, he’d confess to you and he’d make you the happiest person in the world. You just...didn’t know it yet. 

     “I’m excited for the day you do Tech.” You snickered softly, you both were startled by harsh knocking on the door.

     “That’s my cue. See you soon Starlight,” Technoblade hummed slipping right out the window, you watched him go longingly. You shuffled towards the door and opened it slowly, on the front steps stood Tubbo who was rocking nervously on his feet. 

     “Hi…” 

     “Hey LR...you okay?” Tilting your head to the side,

     “Is LR supposed to stand for little ram?”

     “Problem?”

     “No…I suppose not.” He murmured before clearing his throat and straightening his back, “I wanted to talk with you.” 

     “Oh?” You raised an eyebrow watching him nod his head sternly, you walked outside and closed the door behind you so you could lean on it. “Shoot,”

You watched as Tubbo swallowed thickly, “First off I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. It wasn’t fair of me to snap.” He watched you nod a little urging him to continue, “however, I am the President now and you have to respect my authority.” Eyebrows furrowing together in frustration you opened your mouth to counter him but he held up his hand, “Dream has an idea of how to rule. He can steer me in a better direction-”

     “Pardon me?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, “A better direction? Tubbo, are you forgetting everything we all fought for, we fought him for independence. He killed us!” 

     “He might’ve changed!”

     “He exiled Tommy!” 

     “He deserved it!” Tubbo shouted back as your nose scrunched up, “He’ll steer me in a direction that you never could!” He snapped before realizing what he said, he slapped his hands over his mouth eyes widening to the size of saucers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-” 

     “Go home Tubbo.” 

     “(Y/n) please,” He reached out towards you and you held up your hand, 

     “Go reset the day. You need rest,” You frowned, turning back into the house “see you tomorrow.” Inside the house you shut the door on him and slid down onto the floor, you brought your hands to your mouth and swallowed thickly. A part of you wished Technoblade was still here just so he could tell you to get over yourself, he wasn’t skilled in the art of comforting others, but he could make you laugh. To keep yourself sane you reminded yourself that Tubbo was a child and needed you now more than ever, especially if he thought Dream was dishing out good advice. But you were hurt and a selfish part of you wished you could just go live in retirement with Technoblade and not worry about the new country forming, but you couldn’t ditch Tubbo. 

Running a hand through your hair you sighed loudly, one might wonder what exactly could Tubbo do to make you listen to Technoblade’s offer. Honestly, you had no idea if anything would make you do that unless of course they just started executing people or something ridiculous like that. 

Restless was how you’d describe the rest of your night, you tried to sleep but after a few hours of tossing and turning you gave up. You decided to make yourself a ‘healthy’ midnight snack, a small bowl of mac & cheese, you didn’t care, you were sad. You sighed softly scratching behind your cat’s ears, “It’s just you and me against the world Taffy isn’t it?” Her purrs rang in the air as she snuggled against your hand, distracting you just enough to swipe a noddle from your bowl. “You fat bitch!” You hissed as she ran off back up the stairs, you leaned back in your chair and sighed, literally nothing was going your way today. Just as you finished up your snack you heard a soft ping upon your window, turning to the sound you noticed your neighbor Phil awake in his house. He held up a hand and waved at you through it, and with a small smile, you waved back. He shuffled back into his home, I guess you both were insomniacs together, Techno knew how to pick a certain type of friend it seemed. 

You walked back up to your bedroom and slid under the covers once more, maybe you were wrong and things were going to get better. 

Months went by and nothing seemed to change much to your disappointment. Tubbo and you were still a little rocky, you had forgiven him for his harsh words but he always put Dream’s and even Quackity’s opinion before your own. When you came back from visiting Niki one day and saw wanted posters of Technoblade all around the country you almost had a stroke. You confronted Tubbo about it and only half answered you before running off when Quackity called him. That worried you, he normally didn’t like lying, especially not to you. 

The same day you were walking into the market to get some fresh fruit when a hand shot out from the wanted poster and pulled you behind it. You were held flush against someone’s chest who chuckled gruffly, you recognized that chuckle anywhere. “Techno! What’re you doing here?” You asked looking up at him with eyes filled with concern, “don’t you know you’re a wanted man?”

     “I think that just makes this all the more exciting.” Techno mused running his fingers through your hair, “Plus it’s not like anyone here can catch me.” 

     “Wrong I could catch you.” He dared to laugh in your face, 

     “Sure you could, and I’m half sheep.” Technoblade mused and he watched you huff cutely, “Don’t get all huffy at me you know I’m right.” You only waved him off, “seriously though I’m here to do some trading with Phil.”

     “Oh…” You gave a nod, “Will I see you more frequently then?”

     “You could see me all the time if you moved in with me.” Techno joked again and was surprised to see your face fall a little. Are you serious? Was he getting you to crack? “Starlight?” 

     “Ask me again in a few months and I might say yes,” You teased brushing the question off swiftly, Technoblade didn’t pry but he could tell you were almost convinced. Just what was going on in this country to make you want to leave your little brother? “Now shoo, go see Phil before he gives up on you.” You gave him a little shove and he stumbled off with a huff sticking his tongue out at you in the process. 

After that encounter, you didn’t run into Technoblade for another very long stretch of time. About a month or so after that encounter, Tubbo had shown up at your doorstep a complete nervous wreck. He begged you to help him, claiming he needed diamonds for an upcoming project and wanted you to acquire them for him. “Tubbo I don’t understand why I need to go on this trip? I have diamonds I can just give you. You know I don’t care.” 

     “But I feel bad about it,” Tubbo argued with you “please just do this for me.”

     “You know I’ll do anything for you. If you want me to get them this way I’ll do it. I should be back tonight is that okay? Do you need them sooner?” Tubbo looked relieved as he took your hands in his own, 

     “No tonight is perfect!” The boy chirped sounding more like himself than he has in months, you couldn’t help but smile. You ruffled his hair a little before kissing his forehead, 

     “Then tonight you shall have them, Little Ram.” 

Tubbo helped you gather the materials you needed for a trip down into the mines, Tubbo even gave you some fire resistance potions. You thanked him for the potions before putting on your armor and heading down into the tunnels. As you were down in the mine the concept of time was always an illusion, so when you finally found diamonds for Tubbo and you left the cave you were surprised to see the sun was just setting. You hummed softly to yourself walking back into New L’manburg excited to show off to Tubbo you couldn’t help but wonder what he needed them for in the first place. However, when you entered town you were greeted by a gathering going on at the center. Everyone seemed to be there clad in what looked to be butcher’s outfits, your vibe was immediately thrown off eyebrows furrowing in concern. Quackity was giving some sort of speech and that finally drew your eyes towards the podium, locked inside a cage was a fuming Technoblade. You rushed towards the group, pushing past Ghostbur and a blue sheep, and grabbed tightly onto Tubbo’s arm. 

     “Tubbo what the fuck is happening?” He tensed turning towards your face. It was no secret that you and Techno were friends, this wasn’t good at all.

     “(Y/n)! You’re back early!” He spoke nervously rubbing his hands together as Quackity turned towards you, 

     “Welcome back!” Quackity hopped off the podium with a smirk, “Fundy grab them.” 

     “Quackity hey wait a minute-” Tubbo started as Fundy roughly grabbed onto your arms pinning you in place, 

     “Ow hey! Watch it! Let go of me!”

     “Get your hands off them!” Technoblade snarled nostrils flaring grabbing the bars of the cage tightly. 

     “Quackity you said we’d leave them out of this!” Tubbo argued and your jaw dropped staring at Tubbo, “You promised!” 

He waved Tubbo off with a scoff, “they’re just as bad as Phil, Tubbo. She needs to be punished. We can't play favorites when trying to run a country. We’ll execute Techno then deal with the other traitors.”

     “Execute?” You choked, “you can’t be serious! Tubbo you cannot be serious, since when are you okay with public executions?” He refused to look at you, his hair covering his eyes, he only nodded his head in Quackity’s direction. 

     “Do it.” 

     “Tubbo!” You shrieked watching Quackity grin maliciously, moving over to pull the lever that would allow the anvil to fall and crush the man below it. 

What happened next was a cluster fuck, someone began trying to set off TNT, and Quackity pulled the lever. It fell rapidly towards Techno and he pulled something out of his pocket, in a flash of bright colors and bursts of light Technoblade was ripped apart and pulled back together again. He was alive, Technoblade really doesn’t ever die. He hopped on top of the anvil and jumped the bars of the cage, Fundy had long since lost his grip on you, he noticed Dream ushering him inside a cavern and he paused a moment. The hybrid turned towards you holding out his hand one final time, the world seemed to stop a moment and it was just you and him. His face held a desperate look in it, almost pleading you to take his hand within your own. You flashed back to the day Wilbur blew the country up, Tubbo called your name you glanced over your shoulder once towards Little Ram. You reached into your bag and dropped the diamonds you found for him on the ground, you grabbed Technoblade’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Technoblade smiled and yanked you forward, leaving a heartbroken Tubbo in your wake.

[saurexhas]

Love is Blind - Part 1

So I’ve been hanging out with @studionovella​ and the team for @nightmare-castle​, and the sheer talent in their discord server is so amazing. It led me to be inspired, and while I’m typically more of a Sanscest writer, I figured that it’d be fun to try something new considering the source of my inspiration! So have some Nightmare x MC (Nightmare x Reader).

Be warned, this story handles blindness and... probably some other sensitive topics considering it’s me. So just watch the tags for any relevant triggers!

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You didn’t think that it was possible, but somehow you had fallen for Nightmare. On the surface he was cold, cruel, and calculating, using everyone he could to advance his goals. But if you could tolerate the coldness, get past his clinical treatment of those he believed were beneath him, then there was so much more to him. Nightmare was a scholar, a brilliant mind with a vision for a world all his own. He appreciated the arts, often enjoying his downtime with a good book and a calming cup of tea. And believe it or not, there was a small part of him that genuinely cared for the skeletons under his charge. You’ve seen that side of him more than most, managing to open even his eye to what was hidden beneath the centuries of anger and hatred.

Even if negativity was still a large part of who he was, you found yourself able to accept that darkness, because it only made the small lights within him shine brighter. Just like the stars the two of you were gazing at. Though as your gaze shifted to the skeleton currently dominating your thoughts, you found that piercing cyan eye of his locked onto you instead of the sky. If there was ever any doubt in your mind that your feelings were reciprocated, one look at his gaze would sweep it all away. There was a tenderness to him, reserved only for you as he would say. It was only in these moments where the two of you were alone that he would let his imposing demeanor slide.

Getting moments to yourselves was easier said than done though. Despite the sheer size of the castle, the others always seemed to be around. They knew how Nightmare favoured you, how he treated you special and wasn’t as harsh. You were pretty sure that they’d managed to piece everything together on their own, even if none of them ever said anything for fear of angering their king. That said, some of them, namely Killer, seemed to delight in getting in the way of your fleeting moments alone. And there was always no shortage of work to be done, not when your partner was as ambitious as he was. Nightmare aimed to create an empire, and you were doing what you could to further his goals. Even if all that work and Killer’s interference left you and Nightmare fleeing to other worlds in order to have some semblance of a relationship.

Outertale was a favourite destination of yours, the beauty of the cosmos always taking your breath away. It always seemed so far removed from the chaos of the multiverse, or the chaos of the castle.The peace and quiet out here made it perfect for when both you and your partner just needed a break. You could stand out here for hours, watching the subtle shifts in the sky or mapping constellations.

But for now, you were seemingly locked in a staring contest with the lord of darkness, neither willing to look away or break the silence that had fallen. Unsure of what to do, you simply reached out with your finger and booped the tip of his nose. The look of utter surprise on his face left you giggling, only for his own rich laughter to mingle with yours.

“You dare to lay a hand on the God of Negativity, hmm?” He teased, pulling you close with his tentacles before wrapping his arms around your waist. “You are either very brave or very foolish… maybe a bit of both. How shall I deal with your crime, my little moon?”

You couldn’t help but swoon a bit at the pet name he called you, grinning up at him like a fool as you took advantage of the close proximity to snuggle close. “I could swear my love to you, would that appease the great Nightmare?”

“Perhaps,” he chuckled, the distance closing between the two of you even further as he ducked his head down to be level with your own. Nightmare opened his mouth, perhaps to say something else or to move in for the kiss you were anticipating. Before either option could happen though, the dark skeleton froze for a split second. There wasn’t even time to ask what was wrong before you found yourself hefted into his arms, the two of you dodging a volley of bright blue arrows that had speared where you’d been moments ago.

Your heart hammered in your throat, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you tried to get a grip on what was happening. Nightmare still had you cradled to his chest, dodging arrows and… was that paint? Following the paint’s trajectory, you could see your partner’s enemies had managed to crash your little date.

The Star Sanses stood on the other end of the floating chunk of rock you were on, the portal they’d used to arrive closing behind them. Blue was just coming through the portal, his gaster blaster hammer in his grip. Dream had another arrow ready to fire, though he hesitated upon seeing you staring back at him. Ink on the other hand wasted no time in splattering more of his paints everywhere, a tentacle raising to block you from the oncoming attack. The paint hissed and fizzled on contact, a growl leaving Nightmare as he jumped to another nearby rock to escape the barrage.

“Night, are you okay?!” You look up to see him trying to hide his pain, showing you that those paints are far more than something to be smeared on a piece of paper. While you’d heard stories from the others about the chaotic creator, you’d never met him in person or seen him fight. Seeing that paint flying towards you was way scarier than the guys’ stories had led you to believe.

“I’ll be fine,” Nightmare insisted as he set you down, even if you knew that attack hurt. “Look, you need to remain here where you’ll be safe. I don’t care what kind of training you’ve been partaking in with the others; I refuse to let you endanger yourself by fighting them. Ink especially is dangerous, keep away from him at all costs. If you cannot dodge his attacks, make sure to shield your face. His paint can burn like acid if he wishes, and while liquid negativity protects my body, you have no such defenses. Give me your word that you will remain safe while I deal with these pests.”

As much as you wanted to argue that you could help, even you couldn’t muster the confidence to speak against him with such a stern glare directed at you. It was clear that Nightmare wouldn’t take no for an answer on this one, so you had no choice but to nod your head meekly. “I-I’ll stay here,” you promised, glancing up to see him seemingly satisfied. Without another word, he rushed off, preventing Blue from getting any closer with his large hammer.

Watching Nightmare take on all three of the Star Sanses by himself was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, much like the first times you’d joined sparring sessions with the guys. But there wasn’t the assurance in the back of your mind that nobody would be out to kill you. While it might not be the goals of all of the Stars, there was very much mortal danger in this fight for both you and the one you loved. Staying on the sidelines like this was painful, leaving you feeling useless as Nightmare struggled to hold off the onslaught.

Were they not essentially your enemies, you’d be impressed by the coordination and teamwork the Stars possessed. All three of them were capable of both melee and ranged attacks, and wordlessly organized themselves so that one of their own was never in danger of being hit by their own attacks. Dream’s precision with his arrows allowed him to stay primarily a ranged fighter, while Blue’s blasters and Ink’s attacks were a bit too widespread to risk while one of them fought in close combat. Nightmare was the only one without a specific ranged attack, which probably explained why the others rarely got close to attack. Your lover’s tentacles gave him reach though, and the ability to hit multiple targets at once, so he was somehow able to hold his own against all three.

The battle looked to be a stalemate… until one of the Stars suddenly switched tactics. While Blue rushed in with a hammer and bones at his side, Ink actually turned his back on the fight. He seemed a little lost, like he was trying to remember something, only for his eyes to light up as he locked gazes with you. Instant panic seized you as the one skeleton that Nightmare warned you about came straight for you, manic glee plastered over his face as he quickly crossed the distance between the two of you. A glance back at the battle proved that Nightmare had seen what was going on, but Blue was keeping him from coming to your aid. So it was up to you to think fast and avoid the creator, hope bubbling in you that this might actually make things easier. If you could keep Ink busy by dodging his attacks, then Nightmare might be able to take on the remaining two with better success before coming after Ink.

With this admittedly crazy plan in your head, you began a game of cat and mouse with Ink, jumping from one place to the next. If you didn’t have a splash-happy maniac chasing you, it would’ve been cool to enjoy the low gravity of Outertale. For now though, it was all that was allowing you to escape most of the attacks directed at you. You were far from unscathed though, small splashes of paint eating away at your arms and legs. It burned, but was nothing you couldn’t deal with as you continued to dodge and weave the bulk of the attacks. So long as none of it touched your face, you would be fine.

Glancing back at the main battle going on, your hopes of Nightmare doing better against two targets instead of three were steadily being crushed. He seemed distracted, constantly looking up to watch you kite Ink around the area. Instead of focusing on the two he had to deal with, he was so worried about you and Ink that he was now losing. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was facing off against Ink and Blue, because there was little the two could do beyond superficial damage. Dream on the other hand was still very much a threat, his arrows of pure positivity being about the only thing that could seriously hurt. And you could see several piercing the ground, coated in the black negativity that Nightmare relied on for protection. It was a surefire way to see when he’d been hit, and the staggering amount of these soiled arrows made it clear that your partner wasn’t holding his own anymore. Guilt welled up in you, because you were the reason he was now losing this fight. While there wasn’t much you could honestly do to shake Ink from your trail, reason did little to quell the negativity rising inside you. All you could hope for was that your own despair could give Nightmare just a bit more power, enough to keep himself safe at least.

As time dragged on, both you and Nightmare were running out of stamina. Your legs cried for rest as you continued to run away from the creator, while your lover’s movements were growing noticeably sluggish. More arrows seemed to connect than not at this point, and he had barely any time to recover from one attack before dealing with another. The two of you were badly losing, and it was quite clear now why Nightmare rarely let anyone from the castle venture out on their own.

The Stars seemed to sense this sudden weakness in their target, Dream finally stopping his barrage to call out to the one going after you. “Ink! Stop playing around, I need your help!” Help? What help could Ink possibly be? Even his corrosive paints couldn’t breach the surface of Nightmare’s negativity, the only thing that could was Dream’s… oh… oh no.

As the realization hit you, Ink finally gave up his pursuit. “Woo! Looks like my plan actually worked… at least I think this was my plan. Whatever, let’s do this!” Laughing at some untold joke, Ink hopped away from you to return to the large rock that most of the battle had been on. At the same moment though, you felt your legs moving as the horrific reality of their plan hit you. Ink purposefully went after you to distract Nightmare, allowing the others to weaken him enough so that their special attack would hit. The creator might not be able to damage the surface, but if Dream’s arrow ripped through first, then there’d be a narrow window where Nightmare’s greatest defense would be gone. In a single spot he’d be vulnerable, which is why they needed to slow him down enough to ensure their hit would work.

You weren’t going to let that happen. Promise be damned, your soul was screaming at you to protect the one you loved, and you were going to heed its call. The ache in your legs went completely ignored, adrenaline pushing you forward with more speed than you thought you could muster. You needed to be faster though; Ink was already there, and Blue had set about corralling Nightmare to keep him still.

Only a few floating chunks of rock were between you and your beloved now, but you still weren’t fast enough. Panic rose once again as you watched Dream draw back his bowstring, the arrow glimmering faintly in the surrounding darkness. Ink stood ready beside him, the paint coating his brush a dangerous shade of red. That same paint had left such horrible burns along your limbs, and you could only imagine the damage it might do to the weakened god of negativity. With Blue running interference and drawing Nightmare’s attention, it was only a matter of time now.

As your feet touched down on the large space rock, several feet from everyone else, you knew that you were out of time. Nightmare was too absorbed in his fight to hear your warning calls, and it would only alert the two and likely cause them to reset before trying again. This attack would only work once though, because once Nightmare knew of their plan, he wouldn’t let it work a second time. That meant that you had one chance to stop them, especially when you saw that Dream was aiming towards his twin’s soul.

Courage and determination welled within your soul, driving you forward despite the risk you were running straight into. Any number of things could go seriously wrong, but… you couldn’t risk them killing him. Nightmare was the bane of the multiverse to many, but he was everything to you. Gritting your teeth, you timed your steps so that you’d only enter Dream’s field of vision after he fired, preventing them from stopping you and trying again. The second he saw you, the god of positivity’s expression changed from one of grim determination to one of shock and horror, his hand reaching out as if he could stop his attack or stop you. His hesitance once again wasn’t present in Ink, the creator wasting no time in flinging the red paint directly after the arrow.

With mere seconds to spare, your outstretched hands made contact with the cool goop that covered Nightmare’s body. All of your momentum and might went into a push, knocking the deity away from the incoming attack. Your lover turned back to look at you the second you made contact, his eye conveying the same shock and horror as Dream’s had when he saw you. All you could do was smile, knowing that you’d managed to save him no matter what danger you’d put yourself in. Nightmare reached out for you just as the arrow whizzed past, its trajectory leaving it slicing past your eyes. Pain bloomed as the minor cuts scratched the outsides of your eyes, but it was nothing compared to what came next. You’d been so concerned about the arrow that you temporarily forgot about Ink. His attack followed as per the Stars’ plan, splattering over the both of you with its acidic effect. The scratches to your eyes had left you temporarily blind, so you weren’t able to see that red paint as it splashed all over your face. The last thing you saw was instead Nightmare, reaching out to you as if to save you from this pain.

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[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1

Ding dong fannibals I’m back on my bullshit :) 

I discovered that I cannot for the life of me be concise so this one might come in a couple parts. I don't anticipate it's gonna go as long as Cult Girl but we'll see. Y/n is an introverted waitress at a fancy restaurant with a crush on a mysterious regular. An encounter with a dangerous criminal pulls her into his world.

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence; implied drug use; religiously-motivated violence.

In some ways, waitressing was the perfect job for an introvert. Customers didn’t see you as a person, they saw you as an NPC. As long as that was the case, you weren’t expected to engage with them beyond the script: you take their order, bring them the food and they, hopefully, leave a tip. To ensure that, you perfected the art of fake happiness. You were there to make money, not friends. 

Well, there was an exception to every rule. Yours was the sommelier. 

The sommelier was a regular at the restaurant, but never ordered a meal. He mostly just sat at the bar, drank expensive wine, and watched the people come and go for hours at a time. Among the waitstaff, he was a bit of a local cryptid. Waitresses whispered about the handsome gentleman with an unidentifiable accent and deep pockets. About how lucky you had to be to score a bartending shift on one of the nights he showed up. It got to the point where bartending shifts were swapped like currency, because every woman on staff wanted the chance to meet the sommelier. 

One of the more religious line chefs liked to remind you all that the devil would come as everything you could ever desire. He was fully convinced that the sommelier was Satan incarnate, and he wasn’t completely off the mark. Standing at six feet tall with features sharp enough to cut diamonds, the sommelier wouldn’t look out of place in a vampire thriller. He always dressed in dark suits. Your coworkers hypothesized this was so the bloodstains wouldn’t show. Despite the chef’s well-intended (if not condescending) warnings, even the threat of eternal damnation couldn’t scare you off. 

As much as you liked to believe you were above stupid workplace gossip, you knew you weren’t. You were never the most socially adept person, but this gave you something to connect over. It’s how you discovered that you and the other waitresses were all in the same boat; broke, lonely and in desperate need of some excitement. And if that came in the form of a wine-loving vampire taking a liking to your restaurant, there were certainly worse ways to go. 

Unfortunately, not even the chance at encountering the sommelier could make you look forward to working Easter Sunday. Your manager had you working from noon to midnight that day. As employers went, he wasn’t much of a tyrant. He offered you time and a half and even let you switch from waiting tables to bartending halfway through the shift. He, too, knew how coveted the bartending shifts were. And you weren’t in any position to refuse, either. You quite enjoyed having a roof over your head and food in your stomach. 

That didn’t make up for the fact that most of the other twenty-something employees had left for the holiday, and you were one of the few stragglers left available. Easter was the most dreaded workday of the year, because the infamous after-church crowd quadrupled in size and lasted all day. They came in double-digit parties, had no concept of birth control and tipped in prayer. Too many times had you reached for what looked like a generous cash tip, only to find that it was a church pamphlet disguised as a fifty.

You clocked in at noon exactly, after waiting for the second hand to pass the twelve just to be sure. 

“[F/N]!” Your coworker, Charissa, grabbed your attention before you could walk away. “I heard you’re at the bar this evening. Congratulations.” 

“He’s not going to show up, Charissa.” You rolled your eyes. You decided to go into this shift expecting the absolute worst, that way you wouldn’t be setting yourself up for disappointment. “It’s Easter.” 

“You don’t know that.” Charissa nudged you in the side. 

You grinned. “Why would a vampire come to dinner on the one day everyone is gonna be wearing a cross?” 

“Oh, shit, I didn’t think of that.” Charissa gasped. “Well, good luck anyway.”

The first wave of customers filing through the door and filling the restaurant with noise pushed all optimism out of your head. Sighing, you approached a person that Charissa had already seated. 

“Hi, my name is [F/N], I’ll be your server today.” You greeted the first customer in your block. “Can I get you something to drink today?” 

The man couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five, if that. He was still lively in a way that meant he hadn’t experienced the drain that was a minimum wage job. He was wearing a shirt that said ‘on fire for Christ’ under a flannel with no buttons. One look and you knew he wasn’t going to tip. 

The man flashed a row of eerily white teeth. “I thought you said you would bring the wine?” 

You momentarily thought you’d already taken his drink order and shook your head. “I’m sorry, did I--”

“Ah, I see your confusion.” The man shrugged and forced a laugh. “You’re waitressing this week, you and I are going on a date next week. My mistake.” 

Great. You thought. It hasn't even been five minutes and I'm already being gaslit.

Any interaction that forced you to go off-script was bad, but this was a particularly irritating diversion. “Would you like to see a wine list?”

“I’m Chase.” He said. “It’s nice to meet you, [F/N].” 

“Have you decided on a drink?” You repeated, trying not to grit your teeth too obviously. 

"I'll have a glass of your finest coke, please." He faked an English accent, poorly.

"We only carry Pepsi products." You said, dreading how this joker would react to such a minor inconvenience.

He threw his head back and made a face like he had just taken a bullet to the chest. "No, it's gotta be coke! It's coke or nothing!"

"Did you want something else, then?" You tried to hurry him along. "The bartender makes a very nice mimosa-"

He smacked the table as if he had some urgent question. "McDonald's or Chick-Fil-A? There is a right answer, so choose wisely."

"...uh," You mumbled, just praying that he would order a drink already. There wasn't even a Chick-fil-A in the area. "I like McDonald's."

Again, he acted like he was shot in the chest. "Oh, you're down zero to two!"

"If you need a few minutes to select a drink," You said. "I can come back-"

He grabbed your arm and forced a laugh. "I'm just kidding around with you, [F/N]. Pepsi is fine."

You scribbled the order down on your notepad, mostly just to pry your wrist from his grip. You wanted to go into the bathroom and scrub yourself down, but perhaps it was just easier to chop the whole arm off. That way you could get worker's compensation, too.

The tables were filling up and you had spent far too long coaxing a drink order out of this youth pastor creep. You had actual families to wait on. The shift was off to a horrible start.

You made him wait for as long as you could get away with. You took drink orders from three full booths before returning to the youth pastor. Because you knew he was raring to corner you again.

You planted the pop in front of him, the glass already wet with condensation. "Have you decided on a meal?"

"I was just looking over this menu and something caught my eye." He began, looking at the holiday menu your manager had printed off. "This rack of lamb, it's a special, right?"

"Right." You nodded. "It's a pretty large meal, though, so I'd recommend sharing it-"

"No, y'see.." he cut you off. "Jesus was the lamb of god. He died on the cross for your sins. And, look!"

He pointed to the menu. "It says it's a 'praying hands' lamb!"

"Oh!" You forced yet another smile. "I can see the confusion. That just refers to how the rack is arranged."

"I think it's a sign from god." He said.

You demonstrated the shape of the dish with your fingers. "See, the rib bones are long and the racks are Frenched, so the dish takes the shape of a pair of, well, praying hands."

"I'll take it." He nodded furiously.

He took a sharp breath in through his nose and you started to seriously wonder if his definition of "coke or nothing" had a double meaning. It formulated in your head as a joke, but it became more and more of a serious inquiry by the minute.

You leaned in just slightly to get a closer look at his face. Some details you hadn't noticed before were beginning to come into focus. His eyes were vacant and glassy. A small but noticeable stream of blood trickled from his nostril.

"Sir?" You said in a clear, projected voice. "Is there someone I could call for you?"

He turned his head. "Jesus died for your sins."

You looked around the room for any sign of your manager, a supervisor or anyone with a shred of authority. "This man needs help!"

In your haste to call attention to the situation, you didn't see him pick up his steak knife.

"You want to know what Jesus felt when you pierced him?" He muttered, just loud enough for your ears alone.

You felt the serrated knife puncture your skin before you had time to process his words. The pain shot through your body, making you freeze in place.

A chorus of screams filled the restaurant. Blood was pouring from the open wound in a quantity you didn't think possible. Underneath, the knife went straight through your hand and into the table.

The man gripped the handle and gave it a twist, a look of horrifying pleasure on his face. At this point, several people had stepped in to restrain him. He was tall and athletic and could easily overpower many of the other customers, which he did. He found another steak knife and began to cut throats while chanting an incomprehensible prayer.

An older woman claiming to be a doctor rushed to your side. She made a makeshift tourniquet from a napkin and a butter knife. Everything after that was a blur. You struggled to stay conscious as the woman tried to guide the knife from the table while keeping it embedded in your hand.

Soon enough, police and ambulances arrived on the scene. The woman placed you in the care of one of the many EMTs, then rushed away to assist the others.

"I'm just doing what Jesus says!" The youth pastor shouted, before gouging his knife into another man's throat. "Spreading his love!"

The officers notably didn't open fire and made an attempt to de-escalate. Maybe that was how the youth pastor was able to escape. 

[ray-ray-writings]

UMM THIS

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe24dvmM/

Im sorry I know you are packed and busy but can I make a request based on that video?? BECAUSE HOT DAM JUST WILBUR ENTERING LIKE

‘WHAT IS THIS I HEARD ABOUT HURTING Y/N AND TOMMY ‘

LOOK AT THAT VIDEO LOOK AT IT AND TELL ME YOU ARENT SIMPING TO THAT MAN

I simply cannot tell you that because it would be untrue because I am SIMPING so hard…. Also this was way longer and had a lot more plot than I originally planned so…. There’s that lol. Hope you enjoy. (P.S. Because it’s so long, this is going to be the only post tonight, my brain is a bit fried rn lol. Have a great night everyone!)

Warnings: Mentions of very quickly losing a lot of weight, it’s brief but it’s there. As well as, manipulation from Dream. At one point the reader is like “wow it’s been three days since you hit me… Thanks Dream!” And a few swear words here and there. 

Before Wilbur died, you and Wilbur were married. It absolutely broke your heart to watch the love of your life lose his mind (and then his life) for the nation that you and he created to raise and protect your boys in. But you stood by his side until the very end. You held his hand as he died and clutched his body with Phil once it was over. Ghostbur gave you somewhat of a shock. Because you’re husband was back, and he remembered you. He was the man you had married. The person he was before the presidency, before the war, before L’Manberg… You’re Wilbur was back. But you were still sad. You couldn’t hug him or kiss him like you were able to and although he seemed to be right in front of you, it felt like he couldn’t be farther away. Ghostbur can see this and decides that if he can, he really wants to try to come back to life. He tells his father and older brother about this and so they begin planning and researching. In doing this, they kind of accidentally turn a blind eye to what is happening to you and Tommy. 

While those three are figuring out how to bring Wilbur back from the dead, you and Tommy are being harassed by Dream. Something else you lost when you lost Wilbur was protection from Dream. For some reason, Dream was always afraid of Wilbur. Perhaps it was his ability to always stand up for what he wanted and fight for the things he loves… Or perhaps it was because he was Techno’s brother. Doesn’t matter. Point is when you lost Wilbur you lost the protection from Dream. Dream threatens you and Tommy, trying to provoke Tommy and trick him into doing stuff so that Dream could get him in trouble and one day it finally works. Dream tells Tommy where George’s vacation house is because he knows that Tommy cannot resist checking a place out and looking through other people’s stuff. So Tommy drags Ranboo over there and while they’re there they accidentally knock over a lantern and burn some of the house and some of the chests. On the other side of the server, Dream is in your home, poking fun at you for losing your husband and telling you that it was partially your fault and just stuff like that. You didn’t react. You never could when talking to Dream. But his words stung and slashed deep, and he knew it. Finally after a while of this, Tommy comes bursting through your front door, out of breath and seemingly panicked. “What’s the matter?” You ask softly, leaving your kitchen and going to comfort your boy. Tommy is about to spill everything but when he looks up he sees Dream and immediately swallows his words. “We were playing tag… That’s all… Tag” he says. You absolutely do not believe him but you catch his gaze and know that whatever he’s done he cannot say it in front of Dream. So you decide you’ll just have to wait…. You don’t have to wait long. 

“You burnt down George’s vacation home?” Dream’s deadly tone sounds from the kitchen. Your eyes widen and scan Tommy’s face and the look that overtakes him, you know it’s true. “I did not burn it down… I knocked over a lantern and a small fire broke out… I tried to repair everything, it’s fine.” Tommy insists. But Dream seems too pissed to listen to reason. “Come with me” he hisses, marching forward and snatching Tommy’s wrist tightly and marching out of the house. A small whimper left Tommy’s lips as he was pulled causing you to fly into a rage. “Let go of him!” you demand, chasing after them. Dream doesn’t listen and so you reach out and shove his shoulder causing him to stumble, let go of Tommy’s wrist and whip around to face you too. A chilling smile rests on his face, “Oh you just messed up big time.” Before you can react, he reaches out, grabs your wrist, grabs Tommy’s again and continues on down the Prime Path. You’d try to fight it but the grip on your wrist was just too strong. Dream pulls you to Tubbo and immediately jumps on the boy. He explains what happened as well as says that you assaulted him and that he wants you two exiled from L’Manberg or there will be hell to pay. Dream tells Tubbo he will start a war and will kill everyone and everything if his orders are not followed. You can tell Tubbo really doesn’t want to, but it’s something he has to do. Tubbo lets out a small sigh and nod, “Okay Dream. You win.” He murmurs, not looking at Tommy’s betrayed face. “Excellent choice, Mr. President,” the man spits out. “Tubbo” Tommy utters broken heartedly, staring at his best friend, silently begging him to say sike… It never comes. “Dream please escort Tommy and Y/N out of my country.” “With pleasure” You wrist is seized again and you’re being dragged away from your home. 

After you three get out of the SMP, Dream lets go of your wrists and lets you walk for yourself. You approach Tommy and wrap a comforting arm around him. “It’s going to be okay Tommy. Everything is going to be okay.” You comfort the young boy who sighs and nods, “I just can’t believe that he would throw me under the bus like that,” Tommy murmurs. “I know kiddo. I know.” You follow Dream for a very long time until he is satisfied that you are far enough away from the rest of the SMP. “Okay, we stop here… Put your stuff in this hole,” Dream commands, digging a small hole for the two of you to throw your stuff in. You let out a scoff and roll your eyes, “No way. You’ve already forced us into exile. There’s no way we’re giving you our stuff.” Dream’s face flushed a bright red before he lurched forward and grabbed you. Putting in a headlock to where you’re back was pressed against his chest, his arm around your throat while he has a crossbow to your head. “I’ve had enough of you fucking attitude Y/N. You have no power here. I do. I’m in charge and when I say to do something, you do it. If I ask you to jump, the only thing you may ask after that is “How high?” Do you understand?” You don’t speak, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of obedience. But then the tip of the arrow digs into the side of your head causing you to let out a small pained whimper, “I said, do you understand?” he demands again. “Yes” you finally whimper out. He moves the crossbow away from your skull and lets you go and shoves you forward, stumbling into Tommy who catches you and stabilizes you. “Put your stuff in the hole… Now” he growls, not in the mood for any more ‘games’. You and Tommy share a look and then a sigh and slowly put your things in the hole like he demanded. And you could only watch as he placed TNT above it and blew up everything. All of your items that you had worked hard for… Gone in a moment. Dream leaves with a cackle. You and Tommy are just there. Shocked. Finally, after a few moments, you’re able to shake yourself out of it. “Okay… Let’s get started, there’s no time to waste.” Tommy just looks at you and then he sighs and nods. “Let’s do it then.” The two of you spend the rest of the day gathering materials and building yourself a little shelter. You were all alone… At least you were all alone with your brother.

As we all know, Dream comes back almost every day. He comes back, blows up your stuff and leaves. The first time he came back you tried to stop him… It didn’t go well. “Dream, please he just-“ He cut off your words with a harsh slap across the face. It sends you flying and leaves your head spinning. “Haven’t you learned yet? Stuff. Hole. Now.” And you have no choice but to obey. You watch with a broken heart as Tommy slowly begins to actually trust Dream and believe him when he says that no one misses him. You do your best to be there for him and convince him that it’s not true but as days go by and no one, not even your Ghostbur, you can’t help but slowly believe that they’ve forgotten about you two. As time goes on, it seems that you and Tommy fade. You lose a lot of weight. Your food source is scarce and you have to do a lot of work because you’re restarting every. single. day. You get hurt a lot easier and it takes a lot more time to recover. Every once in a while, Dream will physically hurt you. Whether it a slap or a small sword slash, he does it just to make sure you still remember who’s in charge. You just learn to take it and deal with it. It hurts, but at least it’s you and not Tommy. Ranboo visits you once and is horrified at what he sees. He’s worried about you, but knows he can do basically nothing to help you. He makes a mental note to tell someone about it back in the SMP…. And even though he has memory problems, this is one thing he cannot forget. 

On the other side of the SMP, Philza, Techno, and Ghostbur have done it. They’ve cracked it. They have figured out how to bring Ghostbur back to life and to bring back Wilbur. The three make the plan and tell no one, especially not you. (Yeah…. They don’t even realize that you and Tommy aren’t around rn lol) They want to make sure this works before they tell anyone. So they do all the prep and the work and then they perform the ritual. They perform it in a cave somewhere just a little bit away from Techno’s house so that absolutely no one would know where they are or what they were doing. They begin just as nightfalls. Carefully completely each step and making sure they’re doing everything just right, knowing if they fuck up one small thing it’s over and they won’t be able to get Wilbur back. The three complete the final step and wait…. Nothing happens. “Fuck!” Techno curses, his eyes falling to the book, “We did everything right! It should have worked!” “Techno calm down, we’re all upset but at least we-” Philza doesn’t get to finish. All of the sudden a bright light floods the room. The light? It’s coming from Ghostbur. “Uhh guys?” the ghost questions in fear as he is levitated off the ground. Philza and Techno cannot look at him for fear of going blind. Ghostbur is unsure of what is happening but then the shredding pain fills his body. A scream rips from his throat as his whole form begins to physicalize. The skin begins to become real as the bones, blood, organs, and all other internal body parts forms. All memories that Ghostbur had forgotten flood Wilbur’s mind as his whole life flashes before his eyes, reminding him of everything. It only lasts a few moments more before the light fades and Wilbur is dropped from the air. His body hits the ground with an extremely harsh thump. He feels the impact and lets out a groan. His whole body is sore… But he’s there. He’s real and most importantly he’s alive. “Wilbur?” Philza asks hesitantly. Wilbur lets out another groan. The two standing men share a look before rushing to his side. They kneel beside him and gently reach out. Don’t tell anyone but tears threaten to fall from both men’s eyes, Philza and Techno’s, as their hands actually are able to touch Wilbur and they don’t go through him as if he were a ghost. They gently help him from his side to laying on his back. At the movement, Wilbur opens his eyes and is met with the tear laced ones of two of his family members. “Hey guys” he manages to croak out, “how’s it going” “Wilbur” Philza breaks, a tear streaming down his cheek before he lurches forward and wraps the boy into a warm hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” the older man sobs to his son. “Shhhh,” Wilbur calms his father, “It’s okay Dadza. I wanted it. You did what you had to do. It’s okay.” To the two’s surprise’s Techno’s buff arms wrap around the two and join in the hug. “It’s uhhh… it’s good to see you Wilbur” Techno grumbles, not really liking the emotion that had built up in his chest. Wilbur let out a soft laugh, “Good to see you too Tech.” 

The sweet moment is broken by someone calling Techno’s name a little ways away from the cave. At first, they elect to ignore it, but then the voice calls again, this time for Philza and they can tell now that whoever it is, is panicking. So the two help Wilbur up and gently help him out of the cave. They look out over the snow and find Ranboo there, standing on Techno’s front porch. “Ranboo!” Techno calls out causing the tall boy to turn around and then run at them. “Techno! Phil!.... Is that Wilbur? Like actual real Wilbur? He’s alive?” Ranboo asks, his tone still slightly panicked. “Yes Ranboo… It’s a long story but to sum it up we managed to bring Wilbur back to life… Now why are you here and why are you panicked.” Ranboo’s eyes shift back to Wilbur and gulps, “I knew you weren’t going to like this… But now you’re really not going to like this… Dream is hurting Y/N and Tommy…” All three, especially Wilbur, snap to attention at that. “What?” Wilbur asks harshly. Ranboo gulps and nods before diving into his story. He tells them about your exile and how Dream has been treating you two, blowing up your stuff and even physically harming Y/N. He tells them that Dream has the two convinced that nobody cares about them anymore. The three go stiff at that. Have they all been so focused they really missed all of this? Well time to go right some wrongs. It is almost as if all ache and tiredness left Wilbur’s body at the thought of his spouse being hurt, especially at the hands of Dream. He straightens up and takes a few steps toward Ranboo, “Take them to us” he speaks, his tone pretty damn dark. Ranboo nods and quickly turns around and leads the three men back to the exile spot. 

Back in exile, you and Tommy built a house… Logsted! It wasn’t exactly your taste, but it made Tommy happy so you lived in it together. You had woken up, actually feeling kind of good. The bruises and nicks on your face had slowly begun to heal and Dream hadn’t hit you in the past three days. You had a nice dinner last night, you and Tommy had found some chickens and made a small chicken farm a little ways away from the house so that way Dream couldn’t easily find it, but point is you had chicken for dinner… that’s what I was getting at… I’ll move on. So long story short, you were feeling good. The sun had risen and so Tommy and you were just kind of waiting for Dream to show up so you could get the daily blowing up over with. And like clockwork, he shows up, but for some reason he’s angry. For the past couple days he’d actually be pleasant to be around, greeting you asking you how you’ve been. But today was different. He slammed the door open and begins digging a hole in the middle of Logstedshire… That’s really weird. He was going to blow up the stuff inside the house? No way. But he points to the hole and you know he wants you to dump your items in. You move to the hole but don’t throw your stuff in, “Inside the house? Can we please go outside, I don’t want to ruin our hard work” wrong thing to say. A growl escapes Dream’s lips as he reaches forward and slaps you hard across the face, harder than he’s ever slapped you. It is enough to make you dizzy, but you don’t even have time to recover because his hand is in your hair, yanking it back forcing you to look at him. “You stupid bitch. You would think that after all this time, you would have learned by now… I mean you were doing so so well. But it just seems that you never learn your lesson… Guess I’ll have to teach you yet again.” And he pulls out his sword and points it at your stomach, ready to slice you again. Just as he’s about to harm you, the door swings open again and someone stumbles in. They lean against the doorframe with their hand grabbing the top of the frame. You can hear Tommy let out a gasp and you watch Dream’s eyes widen in fear. “So Dream,” an all too familiar voice calls, “What’s this about hurting Y/N and Tommy now?” And then you’re let go by Dream. You crash to the ground, fall flat on your ass, but you manage to scramble to a stand as you stare at the door frame in complete... Shock? Amazement? Fear? You can’t tell. You’re husband, Wilbur, is standing there in the flesh. Literally in the flesh. He’s alive again and you cannot believe it. “Wilbur” Dream stutters out, “You’re alive? How-” “That doesn’t matter, Dream. What matters is the fact that you’ve been hurting Y/N and Tommy… We can’t have that. So now what is going to happen is I’m going to take my family back to L’Manberg and you are never going to hurt them again,” Wilbur announces, moving ever so slightly further into the room. Seeming to have recovered just a bit from shock, Dream actually retorts, “Or what?”. Two more people enter the house and it causes Dream to blanch even further. “I think you know what… now run along.” Not wanting to risk it, Dream takes off running. 

Once you’re sure he’s gone, you allow yourself to speak. “Wilbur?” You whisper out, still not sure if this is real or if you’re dreaming. Wilbur’s attention shifts to you and he completely soften. “Hello,” he greets with a soft smile on his face, taking a few steps toward you, “Have you missed me?” Deciding you don’t care if he’s real or not, you rush forward and throw yourself into his arms. You, like Philza and Techno, almost cry at the feeling of your body’s connecting. He’s here. He’s real. And he’s alive. His arms wrap around you and hold you to him so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. But you don’t care. You’re hugging your husband. You’re actually hugging your husband. “I missed you so much, Wilby. I mean we had Ghostbur but it wasn’t the same. I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulders, the tears slowly falling out of your eyes. His hand comes up and slowly pets your head, in silent comfort and reassurance. 

After a few minutes you pull away slightly, “How are you-” You’re cut off by his lips pressing against your and you cannot help but melt. It has been months since his passing and this was just the absolute best feeling in the world. You kiss back with so much passion it makes your head spin, this time in a good way. It’s also probably the only time ever his brother’s didn’t fake vomit at the sight of you kissing. You only pull back to catch a breath, but right as you breathe in, Wilbur’s lips are back on yours. The process repeats a few times, before you manage to breathe out a “Will,” causing him to pull back, but leaving his forehead resting on yours and his lips just hovering above yours. “Yes my love,” he mumbles to you. “Can we go home please” you ask, not wanting to be here at Logstedshire any longer. He gives you a warn grin, leaning the inch forward and kissing you once more before giving his answer. “Of course my love. Let’s get out of here.” 

[consumeconstantly]

A Discowing at the Wayne Gala

Summary: Getting Jason to go to the Wayne Gala each year was more difficult than putting the Joker away in Arkham; he insisted the part was full of pretentious, rich social climbers who were horribly boring. As it turned out, all he really needed to persuade him was an upset, drunk girl rambling about how much she was going to deck her highschool enemies there to convince himself that he’d be in for a great show. (AKA the extremely chaotic and nonsensical salt/crack fic)

____________________________________________________

“I, Mar--” she hiccupped, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng solemnly swear to rip Lila a new one with Discowing’s godawful costume.”

“You say it girl!” called some random person from across the bar. 

“I will--” another hiccup “--use Batman’s Batmobile to run over Kim. And slam Red Hood’s ugly ass helmet onto Adrien’s stupid face.”

“Better yet,” Marinette pounded the table, “I will use their stupid utility belts to dismantle Gabriel’s empire. Somebody give me a yeah!”

“Yeah!”

All in all, the sight wasn’t that atypical for a bar in Gotham, if it weren’t for the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was barely five feet, wore pigtails, and knocked five men on their asses when they tried to approach her. 

“Take that, Hawkass,” she hissed. “Think you can pull a fast one on me when I’m drunk, do you? Well I’ve got news for you!”

Her words slurred together, and she leaned on the bar for support. “When I get my way, you’re going to be tied up into a pretzel and dumped into a volcano, then the tundra and then we’ll see how you like your stupid little jewlery touched.”

“Dupain-Cheng,” her blonde companion hissed. “Get yourself together. We don’t need another one of your breakdowns now. You know we’re going to be busy tomorrow night, and I don’t want to deal with you completely hung over all throughout the gala.”

“Aww,” Marinette squished her cheek onto Chloe’s “You know you love me.”

“Yes, yes, but I’m not going to tolerate this bullshit. If you want to make good on your plans, you need to be in tip top shape.”

“Ughhhh, why are they even invited to the stupid gala? It’s not even like they’re rich! Oh wait, I guess they are…” Marinette pressed her face to the bar, which was undoubtedly dirty. She reveled in it’s coolness, brushing her bangs out of her face. “And why do you have to be right? I guess I have to stop drinking if I want to make any of my plans work.”

“Your plans will work, hungover or not. It’s just a question of how much you’ll be able to enjoy them. I don’t want you complaining for months after the fact that you don’t remember half of what happened.”

“I guess you’re right. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I'm feeling a little too warm to ice them out.” Staggering, Marinette got to her feet. “Call an Uber?”

“It’s already here.”

#

“What made you change your mind?” Tim frowned at Jason, doubtful that he wasn’t going to cop out at the last second. He was sure that he was only putting on his suit as some sort of deliberate ploy to get out of the Gala. Truthfully, it wasn’t required that all of them attend the Gala, but it was one of the few events that brought together most of the Wayne family.

Jason ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “Let’s just say I’m expecting quite the show.”

#

Jason kept a hawkish gaze on the entrance, waiting for the appearance of one short, pigtailed girl, and a taller blonde. They arrived almost forty five minutes into the Gala, which was good timing; not late enough to be considered rude, but most people have already arrived and have made their rounds.

Marinette looked different out of the dim lighting of the bar, and even though she definitely looks like she’s nursing a light hangover, she still managed to look stunning. With a matte-black floor length dress that attracted all light in the vicinity towards it, it’s hard not to look her way; Tim, for one, stared at the outfits that Marinette and her companion are wearing with stars in his eyes. Any moment now, he’s going to approach them. Or he would if he weren’t on Jason-sitting duty.

“I’ll play nice,” Jason promised.

“You? Nice?” Tim sounded incredulous, and it’s not like he can fault him. Whenever Jason did successfully get roped into coming to the Gala, it’s a sure thing that he gets at least one fist fight started, if not an everyone for themselves sort of situation. 

“They’re the reason I decided to come. It’s not me you have to be worried about.”

Tim groaned. “Really? They’re trouble makers? But they’re wearing MDC!”

Jason chuckled, slipping a hand into his pants pocket. Tim was weirdly obsessed with the highly secretive French designer. Nobody ever saw them in person. “Wearing your fashion icon doesn’t mean they can’t kick ass.”

Tim rocked back on his heels, looking at the two girls calculatively. “That’s right. If anything, they’re more likely to kick ass, because that’s the kind of confidence that MDC inspires in their designs. Well, if you’re not going to fight them, I’m going to introduce myself.”

“And I can’t leave my little brother alone.” Jason said, watching the blonde girl point in the direction of, if he wasn’t mistaken, Gabriel Agreste’s son and his plus one.

Who knew that doing a preliminary reading of the guests would be so informative? He could only guess what kind of beef Marinette had with Agreste Jr.--Bruce had enough problems with Gabriel; even though Wayne Enterprises only dabbled in fashion, Gabriel was a ruthless man when it came to his competitors, and tried to edge them out of the market multiple times. Foolish on his part, not taking into consideration that both Bruce and Tim were very, very stubborn people who only get more difficult to face when dealing with a challenge.

Wayne Enterprise might primarily be considered with R&D and technology companies, but underestimating the amount of influence Tim could gather when someone pissed him off was just a bad idea.

“Hi, I’m Tim--”

“--and it’s lovely to meet you, but we’re on a mission right now,” finished the blonde girl, who Jason was now 98% sure is Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of Paris’ mayor and Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois. “Dupain-Cheng, it’s your time to shine.”

“God,” Marinette muttered underneath her breath, ducking her head. “I can’t believe you’re holding me to what I said while drunk last night.”

“It’s not just what you said drunk last night, it’s the most effective way of dealing with that liar. She’ll be so embarrassed she’ll hide away forever. Maybe get some plastic surgery and change her name. Daddy will make sure she can never step foot in Paris again.” 

“Chloe,” Marinette groaned. “We all know how that panned out last time. Do you want a repeat performance?”

“By that time Hawkmoth will already be taken down. No need to worry about evil butterflies.”

“Evil butterflies?” Tim frowned. 

“We can fill you in later, Marinette has a car to steal.”

“Chloe!” 

“Oh stuff it, Dupain-Cheng, you’re no goody two shoes, even though you pretend to be one.”

Marinette whispers into Chloe’s ear, eyeing Jason and Tim. “Do you have to discuss that with other people around?”

“Well,” Chloe crossed her arms. “You boys aren’t going to rat us out, are you? They’re part of the infamous Wayne family. They’ll definitely be in.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know they already reached out-- I can’t risk--” Marinette kept cutting herself off. “Fine, but if you-know-what falls through, I’m putting it all on you.”

“Like they’re going to pass you up just because of what’s going to go down at this gala. If anything, they’ll be glad to know that you’re as vicious as you are creative,” Chloe checked her nails and touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

“Sorry, what? I’m a little bit lost.”

“Keep up, Drake. I’m beginning to doubt your title as child-genius.You have the unique opportunity to watch history in the making.”

#

“Wait,” Tim’s jaw almost dropped at the display in front of him. “How did you even--”

“Trade secret. Marinette doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“But that’s the Batmobile.”

“Yeah, and?”

Jason laughed. He stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile, Marinette stole the whole thing. What a sight.

#

Here’s how the rest of the night went: Chloe plied Marinette with copious amounts of water, trying to get rid of her headache. Marinette hopped into the driver’s seat of the Batmobile (to which Chloe cackled, “And she doesn’t even have a driver’s license yet,” and Tim paled to the shade of freshly fired ceramic plate.) They ran over Kim, who, somehow managed to get into the event as a server of sorts, at which point Tim swore that the background checks would have to be upped again. Marinette landed the Batmobile in the middle of the gala, barely managing to avoid several innocents who were in her path. She reached into the convenient storage compartment that Jason was previously unaware of and pulled out the Discowing outfit and his helmet-- seriously, how did she get those?-- and slammed the car door.

Security, of course, was waiting for them. How couldn’t they, with that big of a disturbance? Half of the guests were up in a tizzy-- mostly the ones who were experiencing their first Wayne Gala-- and the other half were looking on, amused. Tim waved the guards off as Marinette made her way to Lila and Adrien, like a vengeful Valkyrie.

“You,” Marinette grimaced. “Chloe, say the words, I forgot them.”

“We decided that words were useless, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Marinette said, before promptly slamming Red Hood’s helmet onto Adrien’s head hard enough for him to fall to the ground, likely concussed. Lila, who started screeching and running away made for a surprisingly difficult target. Well, difficult in the fact that she was using other people as shields, but once she came across a group of Experienced Wayne Gala Goers, she got pushed out of her comfort zone.

In eight inch heels and with her hair down, Marinette stalked towards her prey. 

“Lila Rossi,” Marinette intoned. “Your sins will be judged.”

“What are you going to do, Marinette? You have no power here. We’re in America now. No Ladybug to back you up. No public opinion in your favor.”

Marinette shuddered. “Ugh, your voice makes me want to vomit. In any case, I sentence you to life in Discowing’s costume.”

“You can’t make me wear anything!”

Famous last words, Lila.

#

“I’m still so confused. What just happened?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe gave Tim a pat on the back. “You’ll get used to this kind of thing if you end up hanging around Marinette more often.”

“I think I’m in love,” said Jason.

“Get in the back of the line. The only thing Marinette has time for now are her plans to take down Hawkmoth.”

“I’m not opposed to joining you. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” Jason paused. “By the way, has she already stolen the utility belts to take down Gabriel or does she need more? I’ve got contacts.”

 "Fair warning, everything in Paris is at least twenty times crazier than what you’ve seen here today.” Chloe swiped through a few notifications on her phone. “And please, do you think someone who hotwired the Batmobile needs your help getting her hands on a couple utility belts? If she really put her mind to it, she could get the Lasso of Truth from Wonder Woman.”

“Yeah, Jason, I’m definitely not going to join you on that trip.” Tim turned his attention towards Marinette, who was currently passed out on the hotel couch. “Anyways, You two are wearing MDC, right? I have a meeting with them tomorrow!”

Chloe looked at the poor boy with pity. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

________________________________________________

i’m really churning out these jasonette prompts like butter (god butter is so freaking good you ever eat butter straight? i do. heart attack city & the next paula dean) even tho i only thought about joining in right when july was ending but here we are 

[cdroloisms]

Hello, idk if you’ll see this, nor do you have to take this request. But I’ve been thinking, and thought up: Dream joined the egg, but not because it offered him world domination or a happy family or any of that; no it offered to treat him kindly, to be affectionate, to be a friend, basically offering him human decency. (With an add on of everyone believing it was for some big reason, but the actual reason gets revealed somehow) if that made any sense. (Idk if this counts as an au or not)

[ask: if dream showed up to the red banquet, that would be very sexy of the writers to make him join the eggpire instead of the pro-omlette]

hehe egg!dream has so much potential ,, this is a ficlet i’ve been working on for a while (writer’s block my detested) but i finally finished it up !! it’s a bit unpolished but oh well - they cant all be winners lmao 

tw: body horror, blood, injuries, implied torture/abuse, starvation, possession, dark/disturbing imagery, dark content, pandora’s vault/prison arc 

Dream gets corrupted by the Egg, because of course he does.

Sapnap trudges through the vine-filled hallway, his face bundled firmly with a holy-water soaked bandana to keep out the worst of the spores. It’s a shoddy defense, but he doesn’t plan to stay long; he’s only been sent on reconnaissance, to see what public enemy number one is planning and get out as quickly as he can. As much as the entire server wants Dream dead, trying to defeat the man the first time was enough of a feat, never mind with the power of a giant demon egg on his side - to try and fight him now would be practically impossible.

The floor squishes underneath his boots, and his lips curl in disgust; the vines are thick and moist and feel ugly and rotten to the core. He can’t imagine anyone being anything but repulsed by the things, but he guesses it makes sense for Dream to be drawn here - corruption attracts corruption, it seems. It only figures that Dream would be desperate enough for power to let himself get possessed by the living - if you could really call it living - embodiment of decay and deterioration itself. The feeling of the floor giving way underneath his footsteps has another wave of revulsion crawling up his throat, though he’s not sure if it’s directed towards the Egg or his former friend or both.

He reaches the end of the hallway, an itching, pulsing feeling of wrong filling the air in the room just beyond the haphazard archway carved into the stone. With careful hands, Sapnap draws the bandana further up his face, making sure that it is tied securely behind his head - just beyond this wall lies the belly of the beast, the heart of the rot slowly but surely spreading its influence over the entire server. Something hums in the air; whispering, otherworldly sounds pierce through his armor and settle beneath his skin; he pushes on. He knows better than to listen, to try and make sense of the words within the noise - from what he’s heard, by the time you understand what it is saying, it’s too late.

He steps inside; the room feels, for the lack of a better word, red. He’s better suited for the place than most, being a Netherborn and therefore more used to the oppressive heat and heaviness of the air, but there’s something undeniably wrong about how this place feels, something entirely Other having made its home in the room. Every inch of the place feels hostile, angry, hungry, recognizing him as someone foreign and wanting nothing more than his destruction. Unlike the Red Forests, which teemed with life - piglins and hoglins and giant fungus - this room is little more than a twisted mimicry, sucking the air dry, leaving little more than husks behind.

His hand immediately goes to his sword, drawing it with a dull, metallic scrape. The room is eerily silent save for the Egg’s hissing whispers, and he frowns; he’d expected an attack, but the room is still, quiet; a mockery of peace that only makes the uneasy feeling in his gut grow further. He trudges forward, watching against the puddles of lava and smoking magma scattered over the floor, but nothing stirs.

There’s a growing pressure against his skull with each step into the room, and his hand tightens on his communicator; they’d set up a stasis chamber, just in case things went south, his way out of this place only a few button presses away. Still, nothing moves; no Bad or Ant popping out of nowhere, weapons in hand, no Dream driving an axe between his shoulder blades as he’s done so many times before in their spars. There’s only the sound of his footsteps against the rotting growths on the floor and his own heartbeat thudding in his ears and the Egg’s warbling voice, beneath it all - beckoning, almost kind.

He swallows, throat dry, and moves forward.

His feet carry him to the back corner of the room, to the rotting, pulsing core of the wrongness plaguing the entire server. Even through his bandana, the air feels foreign, nearly choking him, and he strains his eyes against the glare of the lava to look up at the vines’ rancid heart, the Egg. Up close, it’s almost underwhelming, only about three times his height, hardly coming halfway up to the ceiling of the room. What it doesn’t have in size, however, it makes up in sheer presence; the hissing whispers in his head grow louder, crawling under his skin and between his bones, and he curses under his breath as he prepares to call for his way back. Dream isn’t here; the mission is a bust.

“Sapnap?”

He freezes.

It takes a moment to realize that the voice wasn’t in his head, as raspy and unsettling as it was, and his eyes traced the edges of the Egg to a dull colored shape at its side, completely overlooked in his initial sweep of the room. He watches, a dull horror rising in his chest, as the shape moves, twists around on itself in an entirely unnatural way like a marionette pulled by its strings. A pale dot rises from where it had been hidden against the bright red of the Egg; it’s a face, Dream’s face, covered in clawing vines, stark against the bone-white of his sun-starved skin, vomit racing up his throat at the sight of the vines having made their homes in jagged wounds all over his face and neck and disappearing into the torn scraps of his prison uniform, each one spilling crimson in the form of writhing vines and thorns instead of blood.

“Sapnap,” Dream says again, his mouth moving with the words but something entirely other having made its home in the air of his lungs, a shivering rasp to his voice that lifts and falls with the same desperate hunger that saturates every tainted inch of the room. His neck tips to the side, shifted over by a twisting vine tangled within his hair and wrapping a crown of blood-red thorns over his forehead, tendrils drooping over his face and framing the gaunt edges. “You came.”

“Dream-” the anger comes back, familiar, at the other’s words - the same red-hot rage that had boiled within him in that first and only prison visit (you took so long) but it dissipates as fast as it comes. Dream - if this remnant, this shade, this corrupted, mangled half that seems more corruption than human can even be called the name of one he had once considered his best friend, his brother - stumbles closer, held up by the vines that twist over his shaking legs, one having the pale, ragged edge of a bone clearly having ripped through skin - and Sapnap does throw up, this time, dragging the bandana from his face and heaving bile all over the floor.

“What happened-” he cries, flames licking up his arms in defense when his friend-turned-monster-turned-this steps closer on a wreck of a leg that should not be able to bear weight, stumbles back to a roaring in his ears-

He is mine he came broken came shattered and I gave him everything I gave him his heart’s desire I am his savior his grace he asked for warmth and he asked for comfort and he asked for nothing but for someone to take his pain and he is mine he is mine he is mine

He freezes, hand tightening over his communicator; Dream stares at him with the one dull-green eye not covered by the vines splayed over his too-pale face, mouth moving but no sound coming out. The roaring, angry sound in Sapnap’s ears grows louder, follows the shape of Dream’s lips come join your friend come with me I will give him to you you have failed him once but not again not again he is mine but you can be mine also and you will be together together together

“-pnap! Sapnap!” Puffy’s words crackle over the communicator, harsh and loud and snapping him out of his thoughts, “Pull the switch, Sam! No, he’s not responding- pull the switch-”

The world dips, and he heaves in a shattered breath, lungs finally full as he breathes in clear air for the first time in what feels like an eternity, hacking coughs pulled from his throat as he tears the bandana off in one sputtering gasp for breath.

“Sap- Sapnap,” Sam pitches his voice low, comforting, a hand rubbing up and down his back, but all Sapnap can see is the skeleton of a man held together by red thread, the life leached from his skin and leaving nothing left, he asked for nothing but for someone to take the pain and he is mine he is mine he is mine-

“Sapnap,” Puffy’s voice is tinny with concern, “What happened? You stopped responding and the time passed so we pulled the switch on the stasis chamber- are you alright? Did he attack you?”

“I-” -you have failed him once but not again not again you will be together- “I need a moment.”

He scrambles away, feet carrying him away from Church Prime, away from the Holy Land, away away away until he’s standing on the Community House roof, staring at his hands at this home, destroyed, this home, rebuilt, this home, empty and wrong and a shadow of house for a shadow of a man, a shadow of a friend found, a friend lost- and sobs.

What had he done?

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Question, if worm man is hels zed then would helsknight at some point recognize him? I’m pretty sure they would either:

A) have a odd run-in with each other

Or

B) helsknight threatens to tell the server and they become rivals

OOOOOOH BOY i got inspired :D

Helsaph hops out of the portal at the Yes Wings Club and approaches the building. Part of him regrets declining Impulse’s invitation to show him around but Helsaph thinks it’s a good test. The only person he’s likely to meet here is Wels, and Wels likely doesn’t know Zedaph well enough to be able to differentiate between Zedaph and Helsaph.

Speaking of Wels…

“Oh, hello, Zedaph,” Wels says casually, a bit-too-friendly smile on his face, as he exits the Yes Wings Club.

Helsaph keeps his guard up but manages a friendly, if nervous, smile back. “Hi, Wels. How are you?”

“Pretty good. Haven’t seen you around in a while, Zedaph.”

“I’ve been… busy. Good busy though.”

Wels nods. “That’s good to hear, Zedaph.”

A shiver runs down Helsaph’s spine. “Why do you keep saying my name like that?”

“IS it your name, though?”

Helsaph freezes, panic briefly flickering across his face. “...what do you mean?”

Wels’s smile turns into a triumphant grin. “I knew it. You can’t hide from me; I know you too well.”

“I don���t understand what you mean,” says Helsaph, avoiding eye contact. “Excuse me.”

He starts to leave.

“I wouldn’t walk away from me if I were you, Helsaph.”

Helsaph stops dead, his heart skipping a beat. He slowly turns back to face the person who clearly isn’t Welsknight.

“Got your attention now, have I?” the person chuckles. “Frankly, I’m a little hurt that you didn’t recognise me straight away. Or maybe you did and you hoped I wouldn’t recognise you.”

Helsaph does recognise him now. In fact, he can hardly believe he ever thought this person was Wels. “What are you doing here, Helsknight?”

“Just out for a walk.” Helsknight shrugs casually. “Is that a crime?”

“I mean on this server,” responds Helsaph. “Last I heard, you were banished back to Helscraft in Season 7.”

“Oh you heard about that? Good news travels far and wide, doesn’t it?”

Helsaph narrows his eyes. “Helsknight, stop playing around with me. Just tell me what you want.”

“I want to know why you’re running around the server pretending to be Zedaph when you know full well the real Zedaph is back home in his base.” Helsknight’s eyes gleam. “Are you up to something evil?”

“No, I live here now,” Helsaph says. “Wait, what do you mean the real- Have you been spying on us?!”

Helsaph is not encouraged by the grin on Helsknight’s face.

“Maybe,” he responds. “Maybe not. Point is, I know a lot. Including the fact that you’re not supposed to be on this server.”

“That’s not a point, that’s just an ominous statement.” Helsaph frowns. “Are you threatening me?”

Helsknight nods. “Yup. I’d really like you to realise right now that I could go over to Xisuma and tell him a LOT of interesting things.”

Helsaph’s breath catches in his throat.

Immediately, Helsknight grins triumphantly. “Uh huh, that’s what I was waiting for. The flicker of panic on your face. That’s how I knew it was you and not the real Zedaph. I know you too well, Helsaph.”

“Helsknight…” Helsaph stares at Helsknight in fear. “Why would you want to ruin this for me? I’m finally in a place that makes me happy after years and years of-.”

“Because helsmits aren’t supposed to be happy!” Helsknight bursts out suddenly. “You think I’M happy?! I’m stuck here on this server trying to kill my counterpart so I can escape Helscraft forever! Constantly having to look over my shoulder and hide! Trying to gather resources in a world that rebels against my every move! Why should YOU-” He jabs his finger at Helsaph. “-get to be happy and I don’t?!”

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Helsknight,” Helsaph says pleadingly. “Befriend your counterpart. Wels is a loving and understanding person; he’ll take you in the way Zedaph took me in.”

Helsknight stares at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking. You think I’m gonna crawl to him after all this time of trying to kill him and beg to be forgiven?! And even if he does, then what? I’d be stuck in the same position as you! Still forced to hide, not allowed to do anything, stuck under the thumb of my idiot counterpart.”

“He can-.”

But Helsknight sharply waves his hand, stopping Helsaph. “NO. My goal is to kill Welsknight so I can absorb his lifeforce and get the hell away from everyone here. THAT is the goal of a helsmit.” His upper lip curls in disgust. “Not to run around dressed like an idiot trying to fight imaginary crime.”

Helsaph takes an involuntary step back. “Y-You know about that…?”

“Of course!” snaps Helsknight. “You make me sick, Helsaph. I’d rather die than suffer that indignity.”

“Well, it- it was a little awkward at first but I grew to really enjoy it,” Helsaph explains. “It sure beat returning to Helscraft, that’s for sure.”

“You pathetic little-!” Helsknight breaks off with a sneer. “You’re not fit to be called a helsmit! I’m not existing here on this server knowing you’re out there being HAPPY.”

He turns and starts to walk away but Helsaph, before he can stop himself, jumps into his path. “I won’t let you do this to me, Helsknight,” he says, forcing his voice to stay steady.

“Get out of my way,” growls Helsknight.

Helsaph shakes his head. “No. I’ve suffered too hard and for too long for this to just let you take it all away from me.”

“Well then, the only way to save it is to kill me.”

For a moment, Helsaph thinks he heard Helsknight wrong. “Wh-What?”

“Kill me,” repeats Helsknight firmly.

“W-Will you respawn?”

Helsknight rolls hie eys. “Of course not, idiot. You know the rules: if a helsmit dies outside of Helscraft, they die forever.”

“Then why are you telling me to kill you?!” yelps Helsaph.

“Because that’s the only way to save your precious new life.” Helsknight takes a step closer to Helsaph. “Do you want it that badly that you’d murder another helsmit to keep it?”

Helsaph doesn’t respond.

Helsknight snorts. “Thought not.”

With that, he moves past Helsaph and keeps walking away.

Making a quick decision, Helsaph draws his sword and lunges to attack Helsknight, but he makes the mistake of letting out a yell as he does. Helsknight spins round and meets the blow with his own sword.

Helsaph is not a good fighter, so having lost the element of surprise, Helsknight is able to easily disarm him and knock him to the ground. As Helsaph tries to get up, he feels the point of Helsknight’s sword touching his neck, causing him to freeze.

“You never were a good fighter, Helsaph,” laughs Helsknight tauntingly. “You, Impulstor, Foxtrot. None of you could ever beat me even when you all came at me at once. You nev-.”

With a sudden burst of strength, Helsaph tackles Helsknight to the ground and snatches his sword off him, holding it threateningly out with both hands.

Helsknight laughs again as he sits up. “Wow. Genuinely, wow. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t ever bring up Impulstor and Foxtrot again,” Helsaph growls. “Ever.”

“Or what?” Helsknight says challengingly.

Good question, Helsaph thinks to himself.

ALoud, he says, “I don’t WANT to kill you, Helsknight. But you’ve no idea what I’ve gone through the last few decades. How much I’ve suffered to get here. I’m not going back to that.”

“Hm.” Helsknight raises an eyebrow as he regards Helsaph as if seeing him in a new light. “You know what? This could be interesting. You’re running around playing hero, huh? A hero needs a villain.”

“I’ve already got one.”

“Evil Xisuma?” snorts Helsknight. “Don’t make me laugh. They’re nothing but a pest.”

“Don’t you-!” starts Helsaph furiously.

But Helsknight again interrupts him. “So here’s what’s gonna happen. You and I are gonna fight a bit. I’m gonna cause some mischief around the server. If you can defeat me in a fight and get me locked up fair and square, I won’t tell Xisuma about you.”

Helsaph narrows his eyes. “I don’t trust you one bit.”

“Nor should you,” responds Helsknight.

After a moment, Helsaph says, “What if I just go tell Xisuma about me right now? I’m sure he’ll be receptive when he finds out how well I’m doing here.”

Helsknight barks a laugh. “HA! The man who banned his own sibling from the server?”

Helsaph stares at Helsknight with a frown. “What?”

“Evil Xisuma didn’t tell you that, huh?” Helsknight seers. “Well I hate to break it to you but if a man can banish his own sibling to the void for decades and decades, I don’t think he’ll be very happy to learn that an ACTUAL helsmit is living here and has in fact been part of Hermitcraft before. That might get your little buddy Zedaph into trouble, huh?”

Helsaph scowls and says nothing. He hadn’t considered the trouble his counterpart would get into if he’s discovered.

Helsknight rises to his feet and stretches. “Touched a nerve there, I think. I’ll see you around, Helsaph.”

Helsaph lets Helsknight take his sword back and glares down at the ground. “I hate you.”

“Good,” responds Helsknight. “You think I want to be liked?”

“Maybe it’d do you some good,” Helsaph mutters, folding his arms, “to have someone actually think you’re worth something.”

A pause.

Then Helsaph cries out as he feels something sharp slice a cut in his arm. His free hand flying to cover the area, he spins round to find Helsknight standing disturbingly close, the tip of his sword blade glistening with drops of blood.

“I’d watch what I say if I were you,” he says warningly, lifting the sword close to Helsaph’s face. “My patience only extends so far.”

Clutching his arm, Helsaph takes off running back down the path and into the nether portal he came from. He sprints through the nether tunnels back towards Zedaph’s base, his heart hammering in his chest. There are no thoughts in his mind as to how he’s going to explain his injury to Zedaph.

All he wants is to get as far away from Helsknight as possible.

[magicalsalamander]

Lacuna

Pairing: Jin ⇆ Reader

Genre: Law Students | Werewolf | Childhood best friends to idiot enemies to lovers | F | A | S

Summary: Lacuna(n): (1) In law, a non liquet (commonly known as “lacuna in the law”) is any situation where there is no applicable law. (2) An unfilled space or interval; a gap.

You are well equipped at handling whatever life throws at you. You had worked hard to erase the past and mold a new you, and the future were to become a lawyer. Well, everything was planned expect for your ex best friend who came back into your life like a crashing gavel. Just when you thought you could deal with his presence, he was now your partner on a case that was bigger than you had ever imaged.

Words: 21K

Warning: Mature; explicit themes, sexual content, and violence.  Lots of law inaccuracies. Alcohol and  club situations. Heavy angst with lots of arguing. Previous trauma of abandonment, harsh words and feeling unworthy. Knotting, cunnilingus, fingering, mentions of impregnation, soft dom Jin, marking/claiming, and possessive behavior.

A/N: It’s been so long since I’ve put out something! I want to thank everyone for being so patient and always supporting me! Thank you @heyitsmee2 for reading over this early on. I apricate you!

*Story mildly edited due to time constraint, will edit further 

| Masterlist | Copyright 2020 © by magicalsalamander. All rights reserved.

You were no stranger to the game; surviving and trying to be someone in the charade of corporatism.  It was all too important to be unemotional. You’d soon find yourself in Prometheus place than on the highest rock on Olympus if you let yourself slip and you were sure of your path.

Calculation leads to quantification—and it takes only seven second to make an impression.

Your throat narrows with altitude, but the breadth of your career expands.

The raspy voice of the jazz singer was a rich wine as she caressed the vintage microphone intimately. The soft notes of the piano and band follow in tandem with the slow, romantic song she sung. The dark golden hue casted over the ballroom from the multitude of chandeliers only perpetuated the elegance of the atmosphere. Parties like this were suffocating despite being in a room sized for a hanger. You wouldn’t doubt either than some of the patrons here own their own planes.  

You down the rest of your wine nearly rolling your eyes at the romantic lyrics. When you were a little girl events like this were a dream, places like this gave promise of finding a prince charming. At least that’s what all the movies feed you and lead you to believe would happen until reality set in. This event wasn’t romantic in the slightest. It was to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the law firm. The entire point of the function tonight was to schmooze and be seen. As an intern, this was prime time for you. However, you suppose you were living the dream, just not a fairytale. You had worked hard to get this internship, nabbing one of the four spots that over thousands applied to. You had done what felt like to be the impossible—coming form a school that wasn’t ivy made it all the more surreal. Important business people, old and new money mixed in with ‘top of the food chain’ lawyers were all present and hiring opportunities post-graduation. That is if you don’t end up getting a job post with the firm, but a smart woman always keeps her options open.

The obligatory greeting and sucking up to had already passed and it was the lull of time where everyone was wondering who would be the first to leave. Your senses go off as you catch a two of four making his way through the crowd towards you. Standing up as if you hadn’t caught glimpse of Logan from your peripheral. You smile at those who you had shared the table with, names already forgotten, number three’s included, silently bidding them an underserved excuse me. You grab at the bottom of your dress and move through the crowd. You miss the scrunch in brow from Logan as he picks up speed after you. He was the typical American type of handsome with brown hair, strong brows, square face, shadowed beard, lean and tall. Logan was nice, made his name memorable by persistence, but the guy couldn’t take a hint. How he’s made it this far has been a mystery to you.

As you break the crowd going into the hallway, you hear him calling your name. Acting as if you couldn’t hear him, you ask a server where the restroom was and quickly headed in that direction. He began jogging to catch up with you. Your pace began to pick up too. You counted down the seconds, four, three, two—the bathroom was still to far to accommodate for your sudden pick up in counting.

“Y/n! Wait, oh, sorry, excuse me.” Timely a cart full of new hors d'oeuvre blocks his path.

Seeing his distraction, you abruptly turned and head down another hall from the main meant for staff. You reached for the first door and to your muttered curse when it was locked. You jogged to the second door which opened and closed it behind you as if fire was at your feet. Not bothering to turn on the light, you backed up further into the closet until you hit something. You had expected to hit a wall, but instead what you bumped into what oddly felt human, a large one at that. When they oofed, you scampered away. Fear thickening in you as you rapidly apologized under your breath. Instinct dictated you get out, as you opened the door to leave the heavy sound of footsteps outside had you closing it right back. The person with you murmured a beginning of a question but you quickly reached up, cupping the mouth of whomever was inside with you. Shushing them they quieted up instantly. The slight stubble under your hand indicated it was a man. At this point you didn’t care if they were someone important. You winced as you heard Logan calling your name again. The man murmured a muffled question that you couldn’t understand and you shushed them again until the footsteps outside quieted.

Sighing in relief you removed your hand from his mouth, using the same hand to search for a light switch. With an apology on the tip of your tongue turning to face the stranger, you froze, staring back equally as motionless as him in shock.

Kim Seokjin.

Number four.

Dressed to the nines in a black suit that clung to him tightly. His broad shoulders were pronounced, and with his height tall he took a lot of space. His thick, dark hair was pushed away from his face. His eyes flashed red before it disappeared back into its espresso color. He looked gorgeous. You’d never utter that out loud, but you couldn’t ignore it either. It irritated you even more. He irritated you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” You drawled out the oh incredulously.

A smirk pulled at his thick lips. “Hello to you too.”

“I never knew you to be so forward, at least take me to dinner first.”

Looking around you realized you were in a janitor’s closet. The scent of bleach was thick, taking up as much space as Seokjin’s personality in the confined space.

“What are you doing here?” You asked while wiping the hand that was over his mouth on your dress not so subtly.

He shrugged, suffocating a laugh at your gesture. “Needed a break.”

That was hard to believe. Jin was a natural at talking to people. He made it seem easy. He always had this sense of composure and poise about him. Staring at eachother his eyes broke from your gaze as he looked you up and down. Suddenly feeling self-conscious you adjusted your dress. The black satin dress you were wearing suddenly felt tighter than when you put it on. Under his gaze you’ve always felt this way, vulnerable, but you’ve learned how to conceal it better over time.

“What?” You hissed at him when he still stared.

“This isn’t the first time you caught me in a closet.” Quietly he followed up with, “Reminds me of the first time we met.”

You don’t know what bothers you more, Seokjin’s casual reference to the past or the fact that you suddenly are placed back there. You remember being terrified, wrapping your blue, pilling blanket over your head only letting your head poke through. You had been reading under your blanket when you heard thumping coming from your closet. With your flashlight pointing at your closet you swallowed harshly as the sound came again. Your parents had told you that monsters were fake, but the sounds sounded real.

Your light was shaking on the white double doors. “H-Hello?” you bravely called out. The thumping stopped. You gulped inching closer. You were taught to be brave. Your dad said that monsters couldn’t hurt you, especially if you don’t show fear. Like the book you were reading, “Where the Wild Things Are”, you like Max, could confront the monsters too. You could become and make them friends with them. You were sure of it.  

“H-hey,” swallowing hard, ”I’m opening the door, don’t bite me okay. I won’t hurt you.”

When no response resounded you breathed in deeply through your nose. Reaching out and yanking the door open you came face to face, inches away, from a boy hiding in your closet. A majority of your clothes were pulled from their hangers and piled on the floor which he was laying on. Similarly in equal fright from you bursting open the door, a shirt he had over his head fell off revealing furry grey dog ears.  At the sound of your gasp, he gasped, and a tail that swept to the floor wrapped around his middle.

Buffering in the moment you stared at the boy who seemed to be around the same age as you. Recognition filters through you, “Max?” Your eyes lit up in wonder.

The boy squinted at you, almost upset. “My name’s not Max, it’s Seokjin!”

“Why do you have ears and a tail like him then?”

His brows furrowed, “Because I’m a—.”

You heard a knock on your door from your mother hushing Seokjin instantly. “Sweetie, are you still awake?”

The boy lurched forward cupping a hand over your mouth seeing you were going to respond. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here.”

You whispered, “Why?”

“Y/N?”

His eyes gleamed as he silently pleaded with you, switching between the shadow from under your bedroom door and your eyes, bidding for you to understand.

Nodding in understanding, somehow you understood. Your mom from the other side of the door sighed, “I know you’re pretending to sleep, Pumpkin. Put the book away. I know its Saturday but remember lights out by 9.”

“Okay, Mom.” Finally speaking up.

“G’night.”

“G’night.”

She walked away.

Seokjin studied you carefully, eyeing you skeptically. “You’re not scared?”

“No, should I be?”

He paused truly thinking. “Yes. You should be.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m brave.”

He’s getting nervous and began muttering to himself. “You shouldn’t have seen me. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. It just smelled so nice.” The last part was whispered out low enough where you couldn’t hear it.

“How did you get in?”

He pulled you into the closet down next to him, closing the door behind. The flashlight was between you both pointing towards the ceiling tightly grasped between your hands. His hands over you. His gaze serious and intent. “Promise you won’t tell anyone, swear on it! Swear on your life!”

You felt like you were being presented the ultimate challenge. This boy was trusting you with his all, maybe this was your adventure. Your destiny. You could be honorable. You nodded, “I swear, I swear.”

“What are you though? Why do you have ears and a tail? Are they real?”

“They’re real.” He said haughtily before pridefully confessing. “I’m a werewolf.”

Your eyes were sparkling, the blanket surrounding you long forgotten and dropped. “Oh, wow! Can I touch your ears?”

He nodded. Your reaction to his secret was surprising to him. He had been told by his parents and everyone in the pack that he should never real his truth. Humans had been enemies for centuries, hunting his kind since the beginning of time. Although, the kind had lived amongst humans for centuries, finding ways to blend in and look alike. The difference was the ability to shift into their natural form.

“Why are you not, like, you know—a wolf?”

“Papa said I can shift fully when I become a man.”

You carefully reached up and felt. He shivered at the touch. “Puppy.”

He growled at you, “Don’t call me puppy.”

“But you’re cute.”

He blushed, scrambling up and pushing your closet door open before heading over to your window. “I have to go.” He began climbing out of your window landing on the ground. Your home was one floor.

You stuck your head out of the window. “Wait!”

He turned around,

“Will I see you again?”

He looked around, nodding before he disappeared between the trees.

It was nearly magnetic the way you both clicked. It was nearly painful being apart from eachother after that night. He would come to your window and sneak into your room almost every night. The following school year you finally went to the same school, Jin having convinced his parents he wanted to change schools. That’s when you both became inseparable. Years later he still snuck into your room, even though he could come through the front door, and still hid in your closet just to scare you. Although, you learned to growl back at him.

It was your normal, but at some point things began to change.

More specifically you were no longer kids. Puberty hit and you were no longer innocent to the maturity that began to bloom in you both. You knew Jin was always touchy. He would hug you and sometimes his hand would linger on you longer than necessary. He would lean in sometimes to smell you, nuzzling his nose against your temple. Initially it had bothered you, the sensation ticklish, but he had explained it quickly it was a werewolf thing. That didn’t change the way your heart would flip each time though.

Jin grew taller than you towering over you, and signs of man began replacing the baby fat. Time was good to him. He found a pack and you no longer spent every waking moment together. It wasn’t that you weren’t welcome, the six boys in his pack were nice, but you had your own group of friends that you began hanging out with. You suppose that was the beginning of the unraveling of your relationship. Naïve and feeling lost you latched onto the first group that accepted you.

Even if they weren’t good for you. You were becoming aware of popularity and boys as it was the only topic they choose to discuss. You began to feel self-conscious because your friends all had boyfriends before, but you still hadn’t. When you introduced the girls to Jin, your presence was made solely into providing information about the boys. The pack were isolationist, but you suppose that’s what made them more attractive besides their looks to hormonal teenage girls. Only now do you realize they accepted you was because you knew Jin and his friends. Specifically, one of the girls, Jenna—if you could remember correctly, would always asking you about Jin.

The breaking point was when Jenny, who knew of your obvious unrequited crush, finally asked you. “You wouldn’t mind if I ask him out right?”

“Jin?” You repeated his name as if you were unsure you heard her right. Although you heard his name coming out of her mouth more times than you can count.

“Yeah, Jin. I mean, you don’t like him, right?” Like a snake she drew out the last words, expression full of pity to resemble comfort. It didn’t help when the other girls at the table all had a similar expression, encouraging her and cornering you.

“I-I—.” You were cut off as another girl spoke up.

“Be real Jenny, they’ve been friend since forever. If he liked Y/n, he would’ve said so already. He doesn’t see her that way.”

The other girl sitting next to her laughed, “Totally doesn’t.”

Blinking back the tears, her words weren’t wrong. Embarrassment flushes through you. Embarrassed that you had even believed that Jin’s affection towards you could ever mean more. The fact that he had made your heart skip a beat. Swallowing your heartache, with a voice more confident than you felt, “Yeah. We’re only friends.”

Squeals and laughter echo out throughout the table in excitement. “Oh my god! Then when you two start dating, you should introduce us to the rest of the friends. I mean Y/n hasn’t done it, but I know you will.”

You were quickly forgotten. The bell rang and the all of them got up as they giggled and walked away to their classes. Sitting alone at the table, you stare at your tray, food partially nibbled on. A single tear falls down onto the table before you suck up the other that threatened to fall. How could you be so stupid. How could you have misread things all along? You get up from the table in a hurry, nearly tripping as your foot caught.

As you step out of the bench of the picnic table you make eye contact with Jin who had been standing at a lunch table a few tables away. The rest of the pack moving around him, but he was still staring at you.

Your embarrassment flushes deeper, had he had heard it all? Your heart breaks even further as you force a smile at him and he returned the gesture. The simple response solidifies everything—you’re just friends.

You miss the way his eyes follow you out of the lunchroom.

The heartache only gets worse as Jin begins making excuses on why he can’t hang out. Claiming he has pack things to deal with. You also begin making excuses no longer hanging out with the girls, even though they don’t seek you out. You instead dedicating your time in the library. You begin reading the books tucked away in the furthest corner of the library, vintage leatherbound books on laws, just to distract yourself. It becomes your new solace.

A few months pass, the sudden silence between you became increasingly awkward. You hadn’t realized how Jin was entangled with every single part of your life. You grew annoyed because your parents would always ask where Jin was. The visible change was when you began noticing the extra portion at the dinner table for him was no longer there. The look they began to give you, seeing the distress in you began to wear you thin.

Deciding enough was enough you decide to confront him, but still cowardly enough to do it between passing. Walking through the halls you headed towards his lockers, knowing he’d be there. His locker just a bit in from an intersection of the halls. When you finally catch sight of him he stood there with two other boys form his pack, Jimin and Hoseok. You swallowed hiding behind the wall where you could hear them, waiting for the two to leave so you could get to speak to him alone.

“Come on hyung. Come on another run tonight.” You could hear Jimin asking

Jin closed his locker after switching out his books then leaning up against it. “I can’t tonight.”

“Why? Gotta go see your girlfriend?” Jimin teases.

Jin hesitated.

You couldn’t see his expression from your place. Your heart sunk, lower lip trapped between your teeth. Had Jenny finally asked him out? Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“No, fuck off Jimin, you already know why.”

Your brows furrow. Has something been going on with Jin? How come he hasn’t told you. He used to tell you everything. You miss the conversation slightly as you contemplate what you’ve been missing with Jin. You had so much to ask him. The question on the tip of your tongue too was –had he finally fully shifted? He had always told you that he had wanted you to be the first he showed his wolf.

Zoning back in you hear Hoseok question. “Come to think of it, haven’t seen Y/n in a while, she doing okay?”

“Normally you’re like a dog in heat around her.”

“No I’m not! I don’t see her like that.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t have time for feelings or emotions.”

You cover your mouth, swallowing your feeling. You suffocate the tears. Everything the girls said were confirmed.

Jin had been so engulfed in his protecting his ego, he hadn’t been able to sense you just around the corner. He then smells it. He smells you. His head twirled towards the wall where he knew you were hiding just behind. He knows your there. He clenched his fist, he wants to go after you but he can’t, it would only prove the teasing.

Clenching your books closer to your chest you run away. Your mind working a thousand miles an hour. Lost in your turmoil you miss that you’re walking straight into someone. Stumbling slightly you look up seeing the person you didn’t want to run into. You don’t pause to apologize or recognize her yelling at you. You needed to get away. The whole day you manage to evade him and everyone—you praise that it was Friday.

Coming home your parents were sitting in the kitchen, the only light on in the house was hanging over the dinning table. Your parents look up at you sadly. “Honey, we have some bad news.”

Your backpack slouched off your shoulders and onto the floor as you took a seat.

Your mother swallowed, placing her hand on top of yours. “We’re moving. I’m sorry, Pumpkin. I know you have so many friends here. Your father’s job is forcing him to transfer to the city, the plant here is shutting down.”

You remain stoic, processing the information. However, you smile, squezzing her hand back in assurance. “How soon can we go?”  

Their expression registered shocked. Clearing their throats as they somberly told you, “We’re leaving next week.”

Nodding you get up from the table, leaving your parents apologizing to you. You dragged yourself to your room. Standing alone in the darkness, words found you again. “Not soon enough.”

You moved away, and soon what it was like to be around him everyday was forgotten. You became strangers. An unpleasant memory.

You had done college, and decided early on that you wanted to go into law. Those leather bound, vintage law books was the only thing you actively brought with you from the past. Law was consistent, but ever changing. It allowed you to find a voice, a place where arguments meant something—your voice meant something. It paved the way for a new you and when you entered law school you flourished under the pressure. Everything felt like progress, at least until the day you showed up at the internship. You no longer had the luxury of pretending. Standing in the attorney’s office was Jin among the two other interns. Seeing him first saw him again felt like all wind had been sucked out of you. It was like a ghost had aspirated and so did the sting of rejection. It was all accompanied by an odd sense of longing that passed through you. You saw the way his eyes widened with recognition when he saw you.

But you both made no motion towards the other, frozen in space and time.

Ironically, time should have done its job and all healing had been done, but scars were just thicker scabs.

The nostalgia quickly washed away as it twisted into the familiar shape of disdain towards him. He was brilliant and It was irritating, so you always were sharp with him, cold even, not willing to lose to him. A rivalry quickly evolved between you. He seemed to feel the same way as he would always retaliate back. You couldn’t last a few minutes without bickering. Words just as venomous and an amused smirk always followed.

“What are you doing? Did I mess up a secret meeting?” He throws your question back at you, grounding you back into the present.

Looking at Seokjin now, he had grown up well. He had grown in height, completely towering over you. His shoulders were broad tapering off like a V to a tiny wait. He looked great in an all black suit. Thick, dark hair pushed away from his face showed off his thick brows and symmetric features. You had eyes, but your mouth would never admit it out loud how good he looked.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Avoiding Logan.”

“Logan?” You missed the way his red eyes darken deeply as it looks black. He had heard the footsteps, but now he could put a name to it. “Are you fucking him?” He questions easily, never one for a filter.

Your eyes widen, the crudeness expected despite your aggressive bickering. “Are you seriously asking me that Seokjin?” The though was so absurd and ridiculous. Has he lost his mind. What more you had never even touched this type of topic with him before, who was he to ask about your sex life.

He tucked his hands into the pocket of his slacks. “I don’t know, it’s just an obvious conclusion to draw. Considering he follows after you like a lost puppy.” He feigned a look of pity. “It’s pathetic.”

The tone he takes with talking about Logan surprises you. He never outwardly showed that the man irritated him. You had seen them chatting around the office even. Considering your desk were next to one another it was inevitable. Anger filled you again, was he calling it pathetic because he was pursuing you? Bastard.

Lazily he leaned up against the shelf, as if he was waiting for a reaction he knew he’d get from you.

“I can’t deal with you right now.” you groan, an onset headache coming on from how childish it all was. Growing frustrated and hotter by the second stuck in the closet with him. You turned to leave.

“Leaving so soon? Don’t you want to wait for him to come back around?”

“Seokjin, will you cut it out. What is with you right now?”

He shrugged, still measuring you with a hardened gaze and lips tight in anger. “Nothing.”

Why was he so angry? Earlier you had noticed that all the bigwigs were laughing easily at his jokes. Something you couldn’t deny about Seokjin was his charisma. It was easy be persuaded by him, you used to be stupid enough to be swayed by it too. Shouldn’t he be on cloudy nine, probably having already solidified a job post grad.

“Whatever. Enjoy your night Seokjin. Don’t suck off potential employers too much.”

That had him laughing. “Ever one to need footsteps to be followed. Lead the way then.”

You glare at him in what you picture to be intimidating at him. Pulling open the door. “Fuck you Seokjin.”

You stomped away, faintly hearing the laughing coming from the closet. Luckily, no one was in the hallway.

You had been aimlessly staring at an one of the many orange sticky notes you had tacked onto the glass pane between the desk. Pink was current deadlines, orange upcoming, and blue was for your frustrations. The low cubicles truly didn’t provide privacy, but it wasn’t permanent anyways so you didn’t really put effort into personalizing it. You were trying to read the orange sticky note with the date November 29th ominously written on it. You couldn’t for the life of you remember what was due on that date. The pink note next to it reading the date December 4th was a blaring reminder of the last day of your internship.

Awakening from your thoughts you heard Logan still been droning on to you about whatever he was talking about. You had stopped listening after he called your name, you hummed like you were paying attention, then zoned out. He was leaning on the glass, his desk situated right next to yours. Jin’s was situated across from yours, but he wasn’t at his desk at the moment. At least that saved you a headache.

Your phone rings and you answer it instantly, cutting off whatever he was saying. You give him a pretend fake smile, one to which he luckily accepts sitting back at his desk. Its quick as the secretary is hanging up on you before you can tell her that you’ll be there in a moment. Gathering your things, taking an extra pen just in case, you head towards the elevators.

Knocking on the door twice you let yourself in quietly behind you. Your boss was a passive man, preferring those to act than be told what to do. Turning around taking in the office before pausing noticing the back of someone’s head already sitting in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. The chair meant to occupy your boss was empty.

Remembering where you are you and ignoring him as you stride until you plop yourself into the empty seat. You refuse to look at him, instead sorting out your tablet to take notes on. You just had to wait until your boss came in the room—you could be patient. You had a vague idea of what he may want to talk to you about, but with Jin here you were at a lost. What was he doing here anyways? Had the secretary gotten his appointments mixed up? It’s been two weeks since the event. You had spoken to him since, but it had been the usual bickering. Something had changed though, it was something atmospheric between the two of you, but you couldn’t place an instance on the beginning of the feeling. Oddly, you found yourself searching for him whenever you came to the office, which had brought its own set of turmoil that you’ve yet to unravel. Now that you were sitting next to him, somehow you felt the sense of pettiness overcome you again.

Finally looking at him you notice how great he looked today. He wore common slacks and a button up, but he made the ensemble look great.

Jin asked, “What are you here for?”

Crossing your legs over you flip open your notebook. “None of your business Kim.” You hate that you had done such a good job hiding the layers of hatred and anger, but you could even recognize the coldness in your tone.

He rolled his eyes, “Typical.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Clue me in Seokjin.”

He shrugged, clearly wanting you to put the pieces together. Rubbing at your scalp muttering under your breath. “It’s too early for this,” checking your watch, “it’s only eight-thirty in the morning, I haven’t had my coffee yet, and I have to deal with guy.”

“That explains your snappiness. You do seem constipated.”

You audibly gasp, a retort on the tip of your tongue when the door burst open to reveal your boss. A grin already on Jin’s face knowing he got the last word in before he neutralizes it. Paying you both no mind he continued grumbling into his phone that’s tucked between his neck and ear as his other hand holds a cup of coffee and a stack of paperwork in the other. Min Yoongi, your boss, was a man of few words elusive at times, but his tongue was sharper than any knife. His mind was brilliant too, a legend amongst law students. you had heard stories of his infamous mock trials when he was in school and how he had won trails out like a daredevil. He was intimidating to say the least.

Jin’s gaze was still on you before he turned to your boss who plopped into his chair. He seems frazzled, tie a bit disheveled and dress shirt not as freshly pressed as it should be. The fact that you looked kept together in front of him was kind of embarrassing. It was common sense that interns should look that way. Did his appearance have something to do with the 29th? Shit, you really needed to figure out what event was happening that day.

He flung a thick packet in a folder over to you and Jin. You flipped open the folder and read the first page. Peaking over from yours to Seokjin’s you see he was given the exact same paper.

“I’m assigning this case to the both of you.”

“Mr. Min, I don’t mean to impose on your judgement, but I can handle this on my own.” You squinted as you read it over. It seems like a generic divorce case based on the short preliminary interview.

“Can you?” Jin quirked a brow at you. You already have insults on the tip of your tounge but he continued. “Look, I’m just saying because remember that one time—.”

You bark out his name before he can continue, already knowing what story he was going to reference.

“Mr. Kim, Ms. Y/L/N.” You both instantly shut up. “If you both are treating this opportunity simply as some game between the both of you then I’m sorry to inform you that you may not be needed anymore. This is court of law. So tell me—do I need to provide this opportunity to someone else?”

At the same time you both respond. “No, Sir.”

The way he was glaring at the both of you had your toes curling in your shoes.

“Look, Ms. Y/L/N, I’ll admit you are smart, just as much as I think Mr. Kim is capable of handling his own cases. I need the both of you on it because this isn’t an ordinary case. It won’t only go to trial in court, but Kinds court too.”

The only thing you hadn’t expected to come to find out was he was also a kind. Kind being something they used in the human world to refer to their supernatural counterpart for political correctness. One afternoon not long into your internship, but months ago, you had called Jin wolf boy in the breakroom, not knowing your boss was walking in. Anyone else would think it was a passing comment, but the narrowed look that he gave you had you crystalizing. It had become second nature to you identifying when someone was otherly. Yoongi only commented as he walked out to make sure that you both keep it that only you knew.

Jin stiffened next to you, his gaze snapping up to look at Yoongi. An exchange of glances went between them that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Seeing as you already know about our kind Ms. Y/L/N, I would like that you both work on this together. Prepare it for the courts and depending on how it goes there the Kind’s will deal with it following. Frankly, we need you on this case to keep things right on the human end. And Seokjin we need you because you have the knowledge that comes with it. I expect the both of you can approach this and prepare a case that is thorough. We cannot risk the underlying truth getting out to the public. Dress it up how you have to, leave the kind out of it until human laws can punish as needed.” He centers you both with a stare that’s unwavering, even you feel the expressive. “Do I make myself clear.”

“Yes.” Simultaneously you both respond.

Yoongi finally sits back taking a sip from his coffee that was still just a little too hot. “Everything you need is in the folder. Now get out.”

Beginning to gather you stuff, relaxing your jaw just a bit, “Thank you Sir.” You stride out of the room without looking back.

You leave not bothering to hold it for him. He was right behind you, closing the door so it wouldn’t slam shut. He watched as you strut down the hall. He huffed realizing you weren’t going to wait to talk about the case. Calling your name does no good as you still keep towards the elevators.

When the door closes, you take a moment. Truth be told, the gravity of it is not lost on you. This was going to force you and him to be close again. Backing down would prove you and the grin that would be on Seokjin’s face knowing you gave up would be enough to keep you up at night for the rest of your life. You swear you could handle it. It is just Seokjin. Your career depends on this and doing well.

But why was your heart beating so fast?

Sitting in an empty conference room, you were going over the material again. It seemed like a regular case of infidelity and the wife was filing for divorce. After Min’s pressing of the importance of this case it felt like he was mocking you. This was a case that felt “practical”. In school you had gone over these types of cases a thousand times—introduction on legal fairness and getting the most for your client. Just because it involved the kind doesn’t mean the law will treat it any different.

At least that’s what it all seemed to be.

Standing up from your seat when you heard the door handle clicking open you put on a an air of professionalism. A short woman, who nearly curled in on herself shuffled into the room. Her blue cardigan nearly engulfed her being, but her maxi dress underneath disguised most of her petite figure anyways. A male followed behind her with a hand on her back. That had you breaking your professionalism for a split second as you lifted your brow. The way he held her was anything but platonic. You wondered shortly if that was the man in the ex-husband in question.

Extending your hand out to her in greeting. “Hello, Ms. West, I’m Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

In the softest voice she greeted you back. You turn to greet the male he introduced himself as Damien Caldwell. With your hand still out towards him, he refused to shake your hand. Mentioning something along the lines of scent tainting. Pretending you understood you signaled them to take a seat.

You all take a seat with Jin next to you and them across.

Carefully observing her you monitor that she was fidgeting a lot, clearly nervous.

Jin glanced at you and his expression was conveying, “Stop it, you’re making her nervous.”

You forced a smile in his direction, reading into his silent message. “Fine.”

Jin adjust himself, pen in hand gesturing towards them. “Mrs. Gloria West , can you please restate your case?” Although you both had the intake form in front of you, you needed her to state clearly what she was here for.

She begins fidgeting, biting her lip tears welding up in her eyes. Damien gently began rubbing her back. “You can do this. This is your story to tell.”

She nods, sniffling, finally looking up and you finally get a glimpse of her face. Her delicate features look worn out, dark circles under her eyes.

Your features soften, and you give her a genuinely soft smile. Handing her a tissue she thanked you softly. Dabbing the corners of her eyes she began, “My,” she licked her lips as if uttering the words brought bitterness to her, “husband has been cheating on me. I found out he has another family.” She reached into her purse pulling out a card that says Happy Father’s Day. “I found it in his underwear drawer when I was putting his clothes away last week.”

Jin followed up. “You’ve previously stated that your husband has claimed you, is this correct?”

“Yes.” She pushed aside the collar of her cardigan exposing the flaring bite marks where fangs met skin.

Pen pausing on paper you forced your jaw to stay closed. You hadn’t really prepared yourself for what claiming really meant. The primal signature was jarring. The two puncture wounds looked poorly scared, the tissue surrounding it somehow still rejecting the mark.

She covered it up again. “I was young and naïve when we first met, just out of high school and didn’t have much experience. He was five years my senior. I didn’t understand what it all meant at the time. I thought the butterflies I got seeing him meant he was my mate. I was hopelessly in love.” Tears brimmed in her eyes again, but she sniffled preventing them from falling.  “He told me I was his mate. I believed him. I let him mark me.” She spoke the words as if they burned her. “We got married three years ago, right after he marked me.”

You were disgusted, stomach unsettled, forced marriage seemed so archaic. Your fist curled under the table. You didn’t understand the depth of what happened in the kind context, but it still irked you. You didn’t let it show on your face though.

Damien was getting restless, clearly irate.

Jin visibly tensed. You see his jaw clench. You fill in for him. “Daniel West, your husband, how did you know he wasn’t your mate?” The word sounded unfamiliar in your mouth. You had heard it spun around before, but never truly knew the meaning. Although you could conclude that it seemed to imply partner.

She looked to Damien and her face seemed to lighten up, dark circles diminishing, as she looked at him. He had the same look at her. Clearly you could tell they were in love. “I found Damien. I knew it was the real thing because it hurt being apart. I couldn’t get him out of my head. Just a touch and it felt electric. I can’t explain it, but I just…knew. I just knew he was it.”

“Is there any other signs of another partner or family?”

“He smells like her.” She swallowed harshly. “He smells like other women too, but her the most.”

“Is there any other factors that are telling? Like photo evidence?”

“No.” You tilted your head considering it over. You couldn’t use smell in court to prove infidelity. You breathed in harshly, slouching forward. How were you supposed to find evidence?

Jin hasn’t spoken the entire time, lost in thought and focusing on the incoming information. “Are there any children?”

She nodded.

“How many? Please identify them.” She goes on to list two children, one three years old and a newborn.  

Jin stared at the Damien for a moment. “I know this is a sensitive question, however, I must ask this. Did you mark him?”

It seems Jin had already predicted Damien’s response as the sound of paper crumpling in Damien’s fist was loud. His fist shook form the strength of his anger. Gloria reached over grabbing onto his leg, and his grip loosened up slightly.

She apologized to him. His fist completely unclenched as both of his hands cupped her face. “No, no, no, honey. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. You know that right.”

She closed her eyes, calming and basking in the affection. “I know.”

You blushed yourself, feeling as if you had intruded in an intimate moment. You can’t help but follow your instincts telling you to look at Jin. You feel like you see Seokjin for who he is, not how you’ve constructed him. At the same time you find yourself suddenly reminded—he was different. Stern and cold, eyes empty of all the things that used to make him goofy. It was as if you had lost the dictionary. Unable to translate a language that was once native to you. His quirky awkward fillers and jokes have matured into standards. He holds punctuation in his tone, powerful. Calculating in a way you didn't know he could be. Your eyes follow the curve of his plump lips, the curve of his nose and then the entire profile. It feels intimate.

You pause and wonder if Seokjin has a mate. Did he look at them like that too?

You pause diffusing those thoughts, you shouldn’t be thinking of him that way. Focusing back on the case at hand you know mating is something that cant be proven scientifically. It’s a feeling.

She blushed, taking both of her mates hands into hers and placing them on her lap. With more confidence she turned back to you both. “No. I didn’t know then that it had to be both. Daniel told me that marking me would be enough for the both of us. I didn’t realize it until later. When I brought it up he told me I was wrong, that I didn’t know any better. That people were just trying to put ideas into my head and he knew best. I believed him, until I felt the real feeling.”

“You will have a trail before the elders after this, are you aware of that?” Jin says.

“Yes.”

With a thoughtful pause, Jin smiled reaching out to shake their hands. “That concludes questions for today. Thank you both for your time.”

Reaching out to Gloria, you shake her hand, “You’re very brave for this. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

She smiled, patting your hand. “Thank you.”

You help escort them to the door and they assure you they know the way out. Shutting the door with a click you find Seokjin hunching over his notes. All sense of comfort he offered earlier and professionalism drained form him.

Eyeing him curiously, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

“This…this…this is worst case scenario.” He says.

“Can’t she just get rid of the mark? Things like this are reversable right? She found her mate,” you say the last word with uncertainty as its unfamiliar on your tongue. Logical solutions are the only way you can navigate.

“No, Y/n. it doesn’t work like that.” Voice accusatory.

You shrink, feeling as he had called you stupid indirectly. His fingers couldn’t stop fidgeting over the papers, unable to look at you. “The mark is permanent and can’t be undone. She’s bound to him, but he wasn’t.” He raises his voice towards the end.

“Why are you getting angry?”

When he looked up at you his eyes are red. “You don’t get it.”

You falter. His words hit hard and ring like a ghost putting you back into your old room. Those words engraved like a scar on your heart. Pulling back the scar you are put back in time.

Pacing more folded clothes in the cardboard boxes you glance out your window. It was a full moon.

You couldn’t sleep so you began packing, you were due to move out the following day.

Standing up, you went to the window, staring at the moon. Your eye follows the bush and thick trees that line the property. The night seemed to be so quiet and clear. You felt suffocated in your room, your thoughts making you claustrophobic. You pushed open the window, carefully to make the least noise as possible. Going back to your boxes you fished out a jacket and put on shoes. You slipped through and hit the grass with a thud. Closing your window behind you, you turn back towards the beginning of the forest.

Suddenly a wave of sadness fills you as you remember how Jin used to always come through the same bushes to see you. Clenching your fist and tucking your jacket tighter over you, you force the thoughts of Jin out of your head.

You push pass the bushes, the light of the moon enough to light your way. You follow a faint overgrown carved out path.  In all truth you had only ventured out a few times into the forest each time with him. Jin had always warned you that it wasn’t safe, but he wasn’t here to tell you otherwise. You could make your own choices. Remembering that there was a small ravine nearby you began heading towards it knowing it was somewhere nearby. The sounds of crickets was the only thing you heard besides the crunching of your shoes on mulch.

The air grew noticeably heavier with a mist and you could hear the soft sound of water running. Heading down a slope you end up at the shore of a riverbed. The water was running gently over the darkened stones underneath, just a bit further down the river picked up, frothing as it hit protruding stones. You dip your hand into the spring water, the cold causing you to shiver.

For a moment you can imagine that it’s just you in the world.

Tomorrow this would be all but a dream.

From across the bed, along the other shoreline, twigs crunch. Ripping your hand form the water you freeze in place.  Scanning the shoreline, you couldn’t see anything. Your mind pictured a thousand things it could be. Even in the dark you could make out red eyes looking at you. The being shifted to an opening on the shoreline before taking on the large silhouette of wolf. Its fur was black, dark as the sky.

You stayed put, afraid to rile it up by running despite all instincts saying to do so. It stepped closer, entering the water and trudged closer to you. You weren’t ready to die. It held your gaze the entire time. As it grew closer the wolf was larger than what you’d expect to be average, it was more comparable to a grizzly bear.

It kept coming closer and your heart even louder in your ears. You lost your balance falling on your ass with a shriek. You weren’t quick enough to recover as it was hovering over you. You could feel its hot breath fanning over you with its heavy breaths. It growled and your muscles tensed in fear. It just hovered over you, you wondered if it was waiting for you to make a move.

Willing your eyes to open, all at once you felt like you had recognized the beast. “J-Jin?”

Sensing your fear, it then whined. Then he is shifting, limbs elongating and spine curving as he growled through the process. You can’t bear to look at him as you hear the sound of bone cracking and popping. The sound having goosebumps pill your flesh.

"What are you doing out here?" His voice was deep and cold, lacking its usual warmth. When you turn to look at him you no longer see a massive wolf but Jin. His eyes were still red and you stare, trapped within the color. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen it. The tattered clothing that had stuck to his previous form manifested in torn pants, but he was shirtless.

Wrinkling your nose. Just when you thought you could get away from him, he manifest. “I can be here if I want. Who are you to say I can’t?”

His wolf hadn’t settled, taking your challenge personal rather than rational. “Its too dangerous.”

“We haven’t spoken in so long and the first thing you do is yell at me.”

His expression softened, but he still appeared stern. “Go home.”

“Really Jin?”

“Go home!”

“Do you really not care about me? What you said to Jimin, is it really true?”

When he remained quiet, you found your answer. You bit your lip, forcing yourself to suffocate the tears.

“You don’t understand.” He heaved.

“Obviously, so why! Why won’t you talk to me!” Your nerves finally snap. Tears were prickling at your eyes regardless of how much you fought to keep them down.

“Can’t you give me some space! You just need to give me space sometimes.”

“No! This isn’t you, you’d tell me everything. There are no secrets between us. I want answers. Is it that easy to you to throw away everything we have?”

He growled and stepped up to you, inches away looking down at you. Your neck was kinked back staring back at him with equal challenge. His nostrils flare as he takes in your sense. His chest rumbled.

“I don’t want you to know! I don’t want you know about that part of me. So stay out of it! Leave it alone and me alone. I don’t need you.”

Feeling so small, it hadn’t occurred to you that he didn’t see you as important enough. You hated how much you had relied on him. You feel like a child whining to a parent. Maybe the girls were right. Jin would never look at you like that. You were an outsider to his real world anyways. “Fine. You know what, you’re right I don’t understand and never will. I see what I mean to you now.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks but you swiped them away as soon as they broke.

“Y/n.” The anger melted away from his being instantly, realizing what he said. He wants to take it all back, but he can’t find the right words. He stepped towards you and you took two steps back. You wanted to get away from him.

“You’ll never have to see me again.” You laughed, but it wasn’t in humor, instead full of bitterness.

“What?”

“I’m leaving.”

“What do you mean leaving?”

“What do you care Jin? Aren’t you getting what you want? You don’t need me. You’ll never have to worry about me getting in your business or caring about you again. I’m moving tomorrow.”

“Goodbye.” You turned away from him. His red eyes imprinting in your memory like a branding. You swore before you turned away you saw tears, but you refused to believe it.

He had made his bed, now he had to lay in it.

When you remained quiet, Jin began packing his stuff quietly realizing his outburst. You can only assume he remembered the same thing.

Sighing heavily he tries to dispel the anger, his eyes flashing back to normal. “We’ll discuss things later.”

You hate that it makes your heart sink. You don’t like that he’s pushing you away. He had done it before, but he wasn’t going to do it again. “Of course I don’t, so explain it to me now.”

He ignores you and makes towards the door. Before he makes it you grab onto his forearm. “Will you listen. Don’t walk away from me.”

His body stiffens instantly, although his chest was still heaving. When he turns to look at you, you let go of him like you had been burned. You crossing your arms over your chest protectively. Knowing he no longer plans to leave you follow up, “Look, I don’t know as much as I thought. Don’t punish me for it. I just want to solve this case as you do.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just…imagining someone claiming—.“

Your chest deflated too with his reaction it gave you an unspoken conclusion. He had a mate. You should’ve known better than to let your thoughts trail on earlier. Instead you focused on his apology. “We need to work together right? This is our last case here and we can get through this professionally.”

“Can we?”

You smirked, “I can behave if you can.” You straightened up, extending out your hand to him, “Let’s call a truce or something.”

He accepted it, but still held onto it which was something you didn’t expect. “Something?”

“I mean do you have a better status to call whatever this is?”

“Truce implies I hate you. I don’t hate you.”

The way Seokjin looked at you felt like he was truly looking at you. You almost felt paralyzed as you couldn’t look away. His words felt—genuine. But you refused to lean into that, you didn’t want to read into his words too much. You rolled your eyes, unconvinced pulling your hand out of his. “Okay, alright, I said behave”

“Really. I don’t.” Weakly he smiled.

“So truce or not?”

“Okay.” He answered.

“Okay.” You repeat back.

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Give me your phone.”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. He saved his phone number, calling himself, before handing it back. “Don’t abuse it now.”

You scoffed, nearly choking on your own saliva. Unable to stop yourself from laughing in disbelief. “You wish.”

He genuinely laughed, the high pitch sound unique and squeaky. Turning to leave, he paused in the doorway looking over his shoulder. “Another thing.”

You hummed, looking at him expectantly. You saw the cheeky smirk before it bloomed. “Keep the messaging to during the daylight hours, alright.”

“Seokjin!”

He closed the door quickly behind him, evading your spitfire.

He isn’t sinking back into your life. You aren’t even friends. You both were going to go your separate ways after the internship, and you were never likely to run into him again.

You had nothing to lose.

Truce.

Shutting the door behind you a bit harder than necessary, you toe off your heels and hook your keys up.

Your roommate, Mia, was already sprawled out on the couch. Slumping right next to her and crowding her out. The sounds you emit sounded like a deflating air mattress as you groan.

“Yikes, that bad of a day?” Shuffling to adjust herself again on the couch.

Closing your eyes you nodded. She laughed, clearly not buying the way you played victim. “What did he do today?”

Mia had been a friend you made during college, and quickly became your closets friends. When you both graduated you found yourself needing someone to roommate with while job searching and grad school stuff. You had found out about her being a Kind early on in your sharing of home. She was more surprised to find out that you had already known about it. That’s when you told her about your childhood, leaving out names, all until recently where she was too smart and connected the dots. Wolves and their intuition.

“Okay, first off, not everything isn’t about him. And secondly, how dare you be right about it.”

She laughed, her laptop nearly falling off her lap. You loath her, her and her perceptiveness. She was smart, but sometimes too smart for your own good. “It just—he’s so irritating! I just said one wrong thing today and he exploded. Then we had a truce and get this, he said he didn’t hate me.” Confessing all on your own, you felt accosted just by her silence.

Her eyebrow quirked at that, followed by a cheshire grin. “You two getting along now then? Is that’s what’s upsetting you?”

“No. It’s just—he played the good guy and it made me feel stupid. I have been doing my best and then he comes along and makes me feel—ughh! It’s just this case is stressful. I feel way out of my depths.”” You have your hands in the air scratching at the air.

“Leave then.” She shrugged, stating the obvious solution. She already had let this type of complaining go in one ear and out the other. Since the beginning of your internship you had come home and vented about your day, mostly revolving around him as the topic of choice. How he irritated you that day, or simply breathed the wrong way. Even to yourself, the amount of time he has been able to rile you up lately has become annoying.

“I can’t just leave, you know how hard I worked for this. You know how important this place is. Besides, I need it to graduate.”

“Well then, why were you arguing anyways? What does this have to do with your case?”

“Everything to do with it.”

She nodded. Realizing it must not be within your realm she opens up, “Need insight?”

You shifted on the couch tucking your legs underneath you. “What’s marking or ‘laying claim’?”

She turned to you, “Are you serious?” For the first time in your friendship you saw her blush. She was always forthcoming with sexuality and whatnot, so this was out of character for her.

“Yes.”

“Did he ask you about it?”

You squinted at her, “No, why?”

She cleared her throat, waving her hand, “No, nothing.”

“Well its not PG-13.” She licked her lips.

“Well thank goodness I’m not a virgin maiden in waiting. What is it? You’re stalling.” Her reaction made you infinitely more curious.

“Okay, well honey, when two mates, who love eachother very much—.”

“Oh god, stop it, please be serious for once!”

She laughed. “Fine. It’s a sacred ritual that connects two mates together. Or in layman terms, two soulmates together via a bite mark. It acts like rings? But its more than that. Its hard to explain.”

“Soulmates?” You suffocated the scoff. Out of all things she said to be appalled at. “That doesn’t exist.”

She smiled at you. “They do! You humans just don’t believe it because you’ve corrupted the system.”

“So it can’t it just be anyone? You know, fall in love and just know that person is it, the one?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s this instinctual feeling. This soul connection. You’ll know it when you feel it kind of thing.”

“Ugh, that’s what she said too.” You rubbed at your temples. “I can’t use a feeling as evidence.”

You sighed, “I can’t tell you about the case, but hypothetically if this happened. Hypotheticals only.”

She suffocated a laugh, rolling her wrist in a circle, hand gesturing for you to continue.

“So hypothetically, the client was hypothetically marked by someone other than her mate. What does that mean—hypothetically?”

Her face sobered, “Are you serious?”

You nodded.

Fiddling with her fingernails, she looked genuinely troubled. “How can that even happen?” She mumbled to herself before she turned to you. “I don’t know of any worse punishment. The pain that comes with that either is unimaginable. It’s violation of not only culture, but its inhumane. The human equivalency of forced marriage, but even then that equivalency doesn’t compare how bad it is. Murder, maybe?”

“What would happen to the one who bit the other…hypothetically?”

“Normally, death. There would be a match between the actual mate and the one who bit until death, but times have changed. The punishment is still severe.”

You take pause realizing how serious it all was. You weren’t sold to the idea of love, or soulmates, but being forced in a marriage the idea made you sick. You finally could see why Seokjin was so upset earlier. Sighing heavily you let your head fall back on the couch onto the cushion stared at the ceiling. How could you find evidence against this guy then?

“We gotta make him pay.” Looking towards her. “Do you think a guy who has a separate family would leave a paper trail?”

“You just need to find his social accounts. Cheaters usually have multiple accounts under different pseudonyms. Their downfall though is that most guys are stupid enough to not undo the geo tag or take the photos all in the same place.”

“I’ve already looked into it. He only has one account. It’s pretty generic, nothing telling.”

“But have you?” She gave you this side eye. “He must have a fake account then. Probably all his closets friends follow it, so we just have to find a similar name that seems to be a generic account.” The whole time she had been speaking to you she had been doing the research.

“Done.”

Your jaw dropped. She did that so fast. Could you blame her though, as an IT specialist she knew the ins and outs of things like this.

“You evil genius!” She pulled it back to herself, you scooching to sit next to her so you can watch what she does. Scrolling through, she squinted. “Seems he recently was on this page.” She clicked on link bringing up a page to a club named Fluxx. Scrolling through you both catch a comment under an event from West. The DJ who was playing there apparently was his favorite, him and his boys were going to be there to see it that weekend.  

She turned her laptop towards you. “You’d think he’s in college still.”

“What if…what if I go. I’m sure he isn’t going to just party with his friends. I’m sure he’s going to be there looking for his next victim.”

She shut her laptop, scowling at you. “No. Absolutely not.”

You pout, “Why not? You realize this give me the evidence I need to proof the case.”

“You don’t understand. It’s a club for others. Humans can’t get in here unless you’re someone’s play thing or—.”

“Or what?”

“With someone who is.”

You stare at her expectantly.

“No.”

“Come on!” You whine, tugging at her sleeve.

“No, this is dangerous!” She set her laptop on the coffee table, moving away from you so you couldn’t provoke her. Getting up form the couch she headed towards the kitchen. You sigh following after her. She reached into a cabinet for a mug.

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

She slammed down her mug, and you jumped. You had never seen her upset. She turned to you with a look of disbelief. “Child? This isn’t a game, y/n. You apparently don’t what kind of shit you’re getting into. My kind have to live in the shadows, and do you know what happens in the shadow.” Her comment was rhetoric.

You kept your mouth shut.

“Humans are no longer the superior race in there. Not all kinds are what you think. You’d get eaten alive the moment you let your guard down.”

“I didn’t go through all this trouble to find a good lead to get scared away by the what ifs. Besides, you’ll be there with me, right?”

“They’re not what ifs, y/n.”

“Yes, they are. You went there before and are standing here today.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I’m not. I understand okay! I know you don’t think I do, but I do. I’ve heard it before and I don’t need to hear it from you!”

She turned to look at you with a pointed glare. You stood your ground.

She huffed preparing herself a drink. You stared at her back. For a moment you held doubt. What if she was right. What if you were getting yourself in something bigger than you anticipated. Picturing back to earlier in the day to Gloria and the amount of fear she had regarding her husband had your stomach sinking. The look that Seokjin had, the anger in him, and now hearing of the significance. The sense of justice found itself rooting in you even thicker.

“Alright.”

Pushing off the counter you were leaning on, Mia dropped the spoon she was using to swirl her drink in the sink noisily.

“You’re planning on going anyways aren’t you.”

Painting her with a look of exhaustion and resolve. “I am.”

“How?” she tossed her hands up in the air.

“I don’t know, I always figure things out somehow.”

She picked up her mug pushing past you then picking up her laptop going into her room. She slammed the door.

You slumped back onto the couch. Biting on your thumb. How were you supposed to get in now?

She came storming out of her room thirty minutes later. Rubbing her temples with a look of distress.

“Can’t you just hire a PI or something?”

“No, you yourself said being a kind is a secret. I can’t hire someone to watch him.”

She bit her lip, “Do you have to be this stubborn?”

You chuckled. “Yes. A woman’s life is going to be decided if or not I can prove her husband is a dick. Even if that means putting myself out there to prove it. I really want justice for her.”

“God, I really hate you sometimes.”

You smirked sitting up. “Does that mean you’ll get me in.”

“I swear to God if you get hurt—.”

“We won’t, I won’t.” You rushed towards her wrapping her in a hug. “Thank you, this means a lot. You know I wouldn’t ask something form you if I didn’t mean it right.”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“You owe me big time!”

“Whatever you want darling, the world is ours!”

Finding yourself back at the office after finishing all your classes in the morning. You were exhausted. The week, on top of the internship, had been exam heavy. You found it difficult to raise your head from your desk. Luckily for you, the office was nearly empty including of the other three. All others were at their campus or otherwise. You purposefully came on this day to get your work done.

Your phone pinged, notifying you got a text. With your hand you blindly searched for your phone dragging it so you could look at it form your lap with your head still on the table.

You sat up when you noticed who had texted you. You blink at the ID a few times.

Partner in Crime [2:07 p.m.]: We should meet up to work on the case.

You knew enough to deduce it was Seokjin.

You [2:09p.m.]: Who’s this?

Partner in Crime [2:10p.m.]: Are you serious?

You [2:10p.m.]: I’m at the office now.

Pain in the ass [2: 12pm]: Can you meet me at my school’s library in thirty? The office is nearby. I’ll buy you a coffee.

Location sent.

You contemplate. You just wanted to go home. Deal with the case more after this weekend after going to the club. You want to present all your finding and seal the deal all in one session. However, the thought of coffee was convincing enough to have you texting back.

You [2:20pm]: Okay. Be there soon.

Pain in the ass [2:21pm]: I’ll meet you outside.

You found yourself standing outside of the library half an hour later, staring up at the towering building. This was their library? This looked more like a historical site. Well it explained why the tuition here was so expensive. He went to the ivy school, one of the best, if not the best, law programs in the nation. You eyed things with envy. You had applied for this school too, it was a dream of course. But you suppose going to state university granted you only so much prestige.  

“The clouds telling you something?” You jump when Jin comes up next to you.

You glare at him. He’s laughed. “Sorry, you looked so lost in your thoughts. Didn’t actually think I’d scare you. Here.” He handed you the other coffee in his hand.

You accepted it gladly, fingers feeling frozen, but pause. “You didn’t poison this right?”

“No, that’d be too easy.”

You nearly snort into your cup. “Spoken like a true soon to be lawyer.”

You miss the endearing stare he gives you as you begin walking up the stairs. He quickly catches up with you putting a hand on the small of your back when a large group of students come your way. He guides you up the stairs keeping you close with the abundant of students pouring in and out. You suppressed the squeak you wanted to let out. His hand was large and warm, the touch radiating through your coat. Your mind tells you you should move away, but you don’t. He leads you to the lower floor where to your surprise was just as magnificent as the base floor. The gothic architecture feels almost as if you’re entering a cathedral. The tables were dark oak wood and heavy looking ordered in long rows of five. Green banker lamps were in the center of each table basking the old scratched up wood in golden light.

Leading you to a table secondarily inward, he took a seat next to you.

Finding it odd, you debate on moving, but you neglect to comment on it. He settled into the seat looking none the more comfortable. Settling in you pulled out your laptop plugging it into an outlet underneath the table. You needed a second to re-center yourself. You didn’t like that you instead of revulsion like you expected to, you felt his presence give you a sense of security. It’s all dangerous, the feeling all too close to the ease you used to have with him.

“Have you come across any new leads?” Jin asked.

You quirked you head, having been so lost in your thoughts. “Huh?”

“New leads?”

“Oh, yeah.” You bring it up a on your laptop and show him. “I found his secret Bookface account. It’s even under a different name, Ethan Miller. He must have many identities and more accounts than this one.”

He brought his arm up resting it on the back of your chair, bringing the both of you closer. You flush thinking nothing of it as his thick thigh brushes yours as he leaned in.

“How’d you find it?” He clicks through the photo album. Pictures of ‘Daniel’ and children appear that look very much like him. Children who were not his with Gloria.

“I know people.”

He looked mildly impressed. “I see, if you tell you’ll have to kill me kind of scenario.”

Shrugging with a bit of pride you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned on the desk. Lamely you shot a single finger gun at him. Realizing how lame it was you quickly tucked your finger back into your fist and crossing your arms. When did you do lame things like that ever?  He laughed, and you tried to ignore the embarrassment.

“Anything else?” He was so close to you when he looked up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker down to his lip for a second as he mouthed the words. You quickly brought them back up to his eyes, the dark chocolate color another vortex. Heat rises to your cheeks and he could probably hear your heart picking up in pace. It didn’t help that from how close he was you could smell the cologne he wore, which made you want to lean in and press your face to smell it from his skin. Heat flushes even hotter through you, how brazen of your thoughts were getting.

Remembering he asked you something you answer more breathier than you would like. “No.”

When he straightens up, you were glad he didn’t comment on it. You contemplated telling Jin where you were going, but you keep your mouth shut. You could handle it on your own, all you needed to do was bring the evidence.

You cross your legs attempting to move away from him.

He nodded, taking screenshots before moving on. He finds the photos of his other family just like you did, and the other woman too. He carefully zoomed in squinting at the image of the woman.

“She’s wearing a scarf and in a majority of them.”

“Didn’t take you to be in the fashion police.” That has him snorting a laugh before he goes back to the page. He looked around, finding no one in any of the other rows, you both completely had the basement floor to yourselves. “He must’ve marked her, or newly marked her when they took these photos. She’s trying to cover up the bruising.”

“Is that so abnormal?”

“Well, not necessarily. We just heal rapidly, cuts heal within hours. Marks do take a bit to heal, but it usually heals within a day if cared for properly. But just the way she hiding it and the bruising, It means she’s human. Kinds know marks aren’t meant to be covered up. They’re something sacred and to be worn proudly.”

“So…?”

With his head propped onto his hand he turned to you, eyes boring into you. That feeling arises in your stomach again. The way he was looking at you felt deeper than just a simple glance. You think back to when he said he didn’t hate you. The words still feel impossible.

“Human mates are rare.” Without letting you question it he says, “Bruising could mean it never healed because her body is rejecting him.”  

“Wouldn’t he be feeling some repercussions too? It’s a two-way thing right?”

“Yes, but it seems that he’s not being affected. Gloria would have mentioned illness or signs of hyper aggression.” He scrolls over the images. “You’d expect this kind of behavior from—.” Again he pauses, lost in though.

“From what?”

“A rogue.”

You squint. “English, please.”

He smiles at you. “An exiled wolf. When we don’t have a pack for too long our sense of direction becomes distorted. Signs are aggression, loss of humanity and morality, eventually they lose their its ability to revert.”

“And you think he’s one?”

He leaned back in his seat. “It’s plausible.”

“Let’s go through his account and gather more evidence. I can began transcribing the interview. We can do case search too if we have time.”

He nodded his head. You send him the link to West’s account and begin sectioning out the work. Surprisingly, you had worked quietly next together, no bickering. It was—pleasant.

“How’s school going?” His husky voice breaks you out of your concentration. He was still looking at the laptop and writing down notes.

You hummed. “Getting by, you?”

“Same.” He hums back and the lull begins again. You bite at your lip, curiosity getting the better of you. “Why did you decide to go to law school? Weren’t you going to become a chef?”

He had always told you when he was younger, he wanted to become a chef. “Duty called.”

“Let me guess, pack stuff?”

He nods, not missing the way you said it. “I’m expected to become a council member when I graduate. I’m going to take my father’s position and practice in the kind’s court.”

You didn’t know much about his family, things were always surface when you were younger. Playtime and other things taking precedence. You had no idea his father was a lawyer. You had only spoken to his parents a handful of times. His mother was the one who spoke to you mostly, his father was a stoic man.

“But, your dream?”

“I still cook, I just don’t do it professionally.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, I’m happy.”

You thoughtful consider his words. It pains you a little to know he gave up his dream.

“How are they, your pack?”

A fatherlike smile comes on his face. “They’re all well, Namjoon is to be the next pack leader. The others are all doing their own thing, but they’re doing great.”

You smile, the fond memories of the boys resurfacing. “I miss them.”

“Why’d you leave then?”

There it is. The conversation the both of you had been avoiding this whole time. You had asked him something so personal and now he was returning it. The implication of the question wasn’t only why you left town, but him. You knew that, both physically and emotionally. You don’t know if you could offer him that though.

Abruptly your smile leaves you. “My dad got a job here in the city. I had no choice.” Your tone was frigid despite how much you wanted it to sound neutral.

“That’s the only reason?” He didn’t buy it. Based on his tone he sounded hurt. Knowing there was another reason. You hated that he could still read you.

You shrug, maintaining your stance. “Yes.”

“Bullshit.” His voice comes out clipped and sharp.

“What other reason would I have Seokjin?” Willing your voice to stay leveled, you begin using a voice you only use in professional settings.

“You left me.” He spoke the pain that he had held within. When you look over to him his eyes are red.

Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms over your chest. You wanted to remain unaffected, but you wanted to reach out to him. You felt the urge to touch him, but your anger kept you steady. “I didn’t leave you, you weren’t there. How can you say I left when you weren’t there.”

“You know that’s not true.” He accused, gaze darkening.

“It’s true.”

“I tried, but you wouldn’t answer.”

“That’s bullshit Jin and you know it. For months you ignored me.” Using his words back at him you choked on your words towards the end. You want to say, ‘you didn’t need me’, but the word hung heavy on your tongue, too hurtful even to yourself. You know that you didn’t try to reach out because after what those supposed friends said, it was made true when he just suddenly left. The prioritizing of his pack over you. All your feelings for him were crushed. Heartbreak was easier to deal with when you didn’t have to see their face.

He growls out, “I had things in the pack to handle.”

“Good excuse.” You knew he avoided you for other reasons, it was beginning to urk you that he wasn’t voicing it.

“I couldn’t help it. I was being initiated and had my first complete shift. It was a lot.”

“It’s different and you know it. I—forget it.” You wanted to say so much more, confess how you used to love him. Those feelings feel trivial now, even if they still exist in the present. The realization of the words, even though spoken in your mind had you reliving the pain all over again.

He falters and you almost feel guilty. A darkness spreads over the atmosphere. You spend a moment staring at one another. There is a tension between you two. Yet you can’t deny it’s like magnets. You feel drawn to him despite it all. Always have been. The knowledge of that has you shattering inside.

You stand up. “I’m going to look for a case study.” The wooden chair screeches against the floor. You needed to get away, to cool down. The sound of your shoes echo with the emptiness of the library.

Slinking between the bookcases you keep walking until you are deep within, feeling far enough where you can breathe again. Leaning against a bookshelf you sigh heavily. How come he had this much effect over you still?

Suddenly you feel heat overcome you as Jin suddenly towers over you. Softly his chest rumbles in hushed growls as he caging you in.

“Seokjin, leave me alone.”

When he doesn’t move you attempt to escape, placing your hands on his firm chest and pushing him. Unsurprisingly he doesn’t budge, but he shifts to keep you within his outstretched arms on the bookshelf. His gaze is intense, the red seeming to glow. “No, why do you run away when the conversation gets difficult?”

Humiliation clouds you. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Seokjin I’ve never run, it was you. I stopped chasing when I realized you had other priorities then and I wasn’t one of them. You said so yourself. Simple as that.”

You see him register the memory. His expression turns bitter. “That’s not true.” Gaze narrowed, his hands turn white as he clutches the shelf behind you. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose. Things were complicated and there was a lot I didn’t understand yet.”

“Good excuse.”

“It isn’t!”

“So what?”

“I realized something that—.”

“You didn’t need me.” The words come out of your mouth quietly finishing the sentence for him.  

“No!” he growled.

“Keep telling yourself that.” You bit back the feeling of tears. “What do you gain Seokjin from this, huh? Reliving the past? It’s not then anymore. The us, whatever it was, is not now. And nothing will change that.”

The bookshelf creaked under his grip. “Don’t. Don’t say things like that.”

“What? That I’m no longer that young naïve girl? The one that used to follow you around? The one that used to think you were—.” The word mine dies on your tongue. “I don’t need you anymore and haven’t for a while, face it.”

“Please don’t cry.” He looked at you sadly.

You hadn’t realized you were crying. Attempting to wipe your tears, Jin hand took yours holding it while he caressed your face with the other wiping it away for you.

“Please don’t. I can’t handle it.”

He lowers his head and kissed you. The first press of his lips was gentle but deep. A small whimper escapes you; he rumbles in response pressing you closer to the bookcase. His hand dictates yours onto his shoulders while it wrapped around your waist pulling you close to him. It was making you dizzy with how good it felt.

He pulled away warm breathes of quiet between you two. You slowly open your eyes meeting his fiery ones. The warmness and adoration of it catching you off guard. The boyish loopy smile that followed had your heart melting. He lowered his head, resting his forehead against yours. His lips press against yours again unyielding. You had imagined this before, but this felt better. He kisses your jaw down to your neck. You shiver. The implication of it is not lost on you. He trailed back up finding your lips again in a harsh mesh. With a sigh he pried your mouth open. He moans your name.

Bringing you back to reality. “I—We can’t.”

This wasn’t right on many levels, but most importantly, didn’t he have a mate? Why was he kissing you? You had messed up, messed up big time. How had you caved so easily when he kissed you. You hate that you liked it so much too. You realize from the moment you both met again that the feeling you worked so hard to suppress came back strong. This was a mistake from the beginning. He still makes your heartbeat like it used to.

Seokjin’s arms were still extended towards you. “Why not?”

“I can’t—we can’t.”

You do what you do best. You run. Your heart breaks again for the second time.

Standing outside in line in the dead of fall would have to be the last place you wished to find yourself. The bombing bass thumped through the walls and neon lights outlined the vicinity. Other patrons in line to the club seemed at ease with the near freezing temperature. You suppose its a caveat of being human that your body didn’t run naturally warm. You had been to clubs throughout your college days, but they were far in between. Except this wasn’t any regular club, Fluxx was meant for the underworld. Those of the other kind.

Crossing your arms over your chest you attempt to conserve as much heat as possible. The fire within only kindled by the fact that you are only doing this for the case. The dress you had borrowed form Mia after she had deemed your choice to tame barely covered anything. It was too tight and you were sure that everything underneath was outlined.

Your phone vibrates in your clutch. You step away from Mia, although she was distracted chatting up some guy in the line. You answer it without looking at the ID.

“Hello?” Plugging your other ear with your finger.

“There’s something you need to know.” Jin’s voice comes through. You startle looking at the phone to check if it really was him. After what happened yesterday you hadn’t expected to never speak to him so soon.

Putting it back to your ear. “Can it wait?” You hiss.

“No.”

“What is it?”

“I talked to Yoongi about him being a rogue. It all checks out. I don’t know how much longer before he turns.”

You bite your lip, heart pausing in your chest. You stare at the club for a moment contemplating what you are about to do. You knew what you were doing was dangerous, entering territory still uncharted to you. However, this was the best way to get more proof.

“Y/n? Y/n did you hear me?”

His voice comes back into your ear, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Are you out right now?”

Form the corner of your eye you notice a bouncer going down the line, eyeing those standing in line. Mia grabs your elbow pulling you back to her. You hadn’t told her what happened yesterday. Unable to articulate it either. She mouthed to you, “Everything alright?”

“Where are you?” Jin asked.

You nodded to her.

“I gotta go.”

“Y/n, wait—.” You hung up on him tucking your phone back in your purse.

The bouncer scanned you over before looking to Mia. The smile that bloomed on his face was a bit salacious. “Go on in ladies.” Mia grabbed your arm pulling you to bypass the line. Going through the entrance, the dark narrow hallway, you focus on your footing as it was hard to see. The deep house thumping grew louder until it opened to a large room. Strobing lights were made opaque by the hazy air, thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat. Bodies were moving to the music as Mia pulled you towards the bar. You were nearly knocked twice by people too drunk to notice or have body awareness.

Mia had already given you the rundown of what to expect. She had spent at least two hours lecturing you on what goes on. These clubs were not just host to one kind, but all. The fact that you were human would send off a few sense and mixing alcohol in the situation it makes things a bit more dangerous. It had already been decided early on that you both would split up.

Mia leaned in at the bar catching the bartender’s attention and ordered for the both of you. Without turning back.

“Spot him yet?”

Scanning the crowd, you look over the bodies, none of them striking familiarity. It isn’t until you scan the private section where the tables are do you find him.

Mia receives the drinks, handing you the soda. Stealthily she looked over spotting the area of where you were looking.

“I’m not getting good vibes Y/n.”

You nearly snorted into your drink. “It’s a club of course you don’t. This place is grimy and full of fuck boy energy.”

Her lips lift in a smile, but it doesn’t stay. “I’m serious.” Biting her lower lip in uncertainty, leaning in she spoke into your ear, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah.” An important detail you left out was telling her that he was a rogue. You knew that just like Jin she would talk you out of it. To her he was just a douchebag and you were just an ordinary girl hitting on him.

“I’ll come find you. Don’t do anything stupid okay.”

You nodded. She disappeared into the crowd weaving into the swaying bodies dancing seamlessly, leaving you at the bar.

You spotted him leaning into a woman, holding her by the hips and grinding to the beat. She wasn’t any woman you had found on his social media before. You snuck photos pretending to take selfies then going through a few other apps. Seeing him move away from her at the change of the song you took your cue. Moving through the dance floor you approximated yourself. Your heart was beating in your fingertips, fist tightly clutching at your drink. Steps beside him you went into action. Stumbling slightly in front of him, you spilled your drink on his black slacks. He growled as soon as the cold liquid spilled all over him.

Trying to swipe off the drink, “What the fuck!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You played up to the image of innocence and a naïve human.

He paused in his attempt at brushing off the liquid. “A human. What are you doing here sweetheart?” When his eyes meet yours, they don’t just look they linger. The girl he had been speaking to completely forgotten. His eyes flicker down from your face to your body, lingering in erogenous zones before meeting your eyes again. Pretending you didn’t notice, you suppress the urge to smile knowing he’s playing into it.

Now that you were closer you couldn’t deny that the guy was attractive. It made sense how he was able to play so many. His tousled hair was dark and silky. His eyes were piercing and intimidating.

Seokjin’s words ringing in your ear again. Don’t know how much longer we have until he turns. Why did you have to think of him now at all times.

Touching his leg over the stain you squeezed it suggestively still pretending innocence of attempting to clean it. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a clutz.”

“Hold on princess. Take me to dinner first.” He grabbed your hand, but kept it over his legs.

You couldn’t explain it, you felt his touch turning nausea within you.

“Can I pay you to get it cleaned?”

“This thing? I got twenty more, its fine.”

You leaned in, putting your hand on his chest. “Is there another way I can repay you?”

That had him quirking his brows before a twisted grin bloomed on his face. “Got any ideas babygirl?”

You leaned in, playing with a button on his button up. “I can think of a few wolf boy.”

He growled clearly taking on the challenge. “My names Daniel and don’t forget it baby girl.”

He leaned in to capture your lips but you turned to the side. You whispered into his ears, chuckling, “Don’t tease me baby. you’re going to bring the beast out in me.”

Pretending his words were stimulating, you giggled, tossing your head back. Biting your lip you gave him a doe eyed look, “Let’s take this somewhere else.” Blinking up at him, “Please.”

He took your hand leading you through the crowd. You didn’t have time to search for Mia in the crowd, but you had hoped she saw you. He moved towards the back towards an exit door. He pushed open the door you were pulled out into the back alley. As soon as the door closes the noise of the club softened, and Daniel’s labored breathing is the loudest sound. Fog had settled in over the city, and you could see a group of guys lingering just at the entrance, the ember of their cigarette light.

Stepping closer to you he caged you against the damp brick wall. His overwhelming smell of alcohol was suffocating as he leaned in with a smirk on his lips. He leaned in close enough that his breath fanned over the side of your face. Moaning and humming, “You smell like a bitch, hard to believe your just human baby girl.”

“I’ve always had a bit of wild in me.” You smirked.

Throwing his head back as he laughed, then lowering his head following with a groan. He bit the bait. He presses himself closer to you, enjoying the soft curves of yore body against his. Leaning in to speak with hot breath into your ear, “I can tame you. You’d like it if I’d put you in your place right.”

Goosebumps pimpled over your whole being, except it wasn’t because of him. Something changed in the air. Your heart began beating faster in your chest, like a radar beeping when a target was nearing. Breaking eye contact with Daniel you turned towards the alley where your instincts were indicating something was coming. In turn you exposed your neck to him. Daniel rumbled contently in appreciation at your action. He leaned in sniffing your skin, trailing his nose along the column. The action having your stomach twist in a sudden nausea.

The radar in your chest pinged its loudest as through the dense, grey fog you saw red eyes. A shadowed figured, large and imposing, began taking form of the owner of the red eyes. They were heading towards you at a face pace like when a predator locked in on its prey. A harrowing growl comes from the shadow sends a shiver down your spine. Daniel was so lost in your scent he didn’t realize the figure coming at breakneck speed.

When the figure was close enough you finally caught a glimpse of the shadow.

In a whisper, “Jin.”

Fire burned in his eyes, as he struck like a missile. It all happened in a blur of motion; Daniel was ripped from hovering over you. The vicious growls that came from both beings was terrifying. Jin’s anger had always been cold and blunt. You had only seen it once before, but even then, that time feels minute to what happened in front of you. You had never seen him fight before. Fist struck and the sound of bone cracking was like thunder. It was gruesome.

Daniel lost his balance, his eyes turning red as well. Their heavy breathing steamed around their mouth, their fangs elongated to their lower lip. Daniel twitched seemingly resisting shifting fully. However, Jin was the larger of the two, his body partially shifted. His muscles bulged against the fabric of his clothes. The buttons of his dress shirt barely maintained against this broad chest. His sleeves were rolled up, veins pulsing against his muscular forearms. He was out for blood.

“What the fuck man! Get your own bitch!” Daniel growled at Jin, still maintaining his goal of getting you. When Daniel’s eyes shifted over to you, Jin charged him as the scent of lust filled the air. He grabbed at Daniel’s throat, moving backwards until he slammed him to the wall. He held him growling out words you couldn’t make out until he felt Daniel fall unconscious. His heart was still beating. Released him and let him slump to the floor, hovering over him like a predator.

“Jin.” The quiet whisper of his nickname has him coming back down to earth. He whipped around finding you leaning against the wall, knees weak. Your eyes were wide taking in his face. His eyes the deepest red you’ve ever seen, fangs over his lips, and body near feral. However, as soon as he sees that you, it dropped from him and he looking more like a puppy. He hurried over to you. Instead of greeting he grabbed your chin and angled your head to the side to get a glance at your neck. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was still more wolf than man at the moment. He leaned forward and whined. Your heart stopped in your chest. His body was warm sending a shiver down your spine. His scent was comforting. You hate how good it feels, you hate that your body relaxed instantly when he came to save you. As if you already know everything was going to be alright. To trust and rely on him felt so foreign, but so familiar.

He pulled away but you were so close you could make out his eyelashes individually. He growled, “What were you doing!”

Suddenly what you had been trying to forget comes back full force. Why was he acting like he cared so much? You curled in on yourself, the pettiness returning. “I could’ve handled myself.”

“Oh really? You were just going to let him mark you?” He seethed with an anger like wildfire.

You tried to remain indifferent. “I don’t see what the problem is. It’s just a bite, it’ll heal. I’m not one of you.”

Ignoring him, you pulled your phone out from your pocket showing him that you had a recording going. “I got it.” You pressed pause and saved the file. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking, the adrenaline of it all still coursing through you.

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“I recorded everything. I even took pictures of him with other women. We can use this as evidence.”

“Y/n?” The moment shatters and you search for the familiar sound of your name.

You see your friend stumbling drunkenly through the door out into the empty alleyway.

“I’m here to save you!” For being a kind, her alcohol tolerance was low. She turned towards you, squinting her eyes. “Whoa, who’s the hot guy? Was I interrupting something.”

You pushed Jin away from you slipping past him to support her as her ankle kept rolling due to the uneven asphalt.

Jin didn’t bother smirking or returning the understanding. He was still beyond pissed.

She looked down to the passed out man, “Holy shit.” She looked to Seokjin, seeing the remnants of his partial shift as he hadn’t bothered to transition back. There was a silent understanding of one another between them as he could tell she was the same as him.

“You were supposed to keep watch, how could you get drunk?”

“I didn’t mean to, I was feeling really nervous about all this. I needed to calm my nerves, so I had a few drinks.”

“We’ll talk in the office.” You directed your words to Seokjin before you began walking away with Mia.

“No, I’m taking you home.”

Mia wiggled her eyebrows. “Can you stay forever?”

You shushed her, bewildered by her behavior. The intense glare he was giving you had you agreeing. “Fine.”

Walking towards his car in silence. She squinted, then her eyes then widened thinking she was whispering to you, “Oh my god is he the one you’ve been talking nonstop about.”

You hush her. “Shut up.”

Through the walk Jin had shifted himself back. A black Audi RS7 beeped as Jin unlocked his car. Mia whistled, “He’s rich.”

“Mia!” You whisper yelled at her. “Please, behave!”

She nodded holding her hands up in an apology. “I’ll behave. I’ll behave.”

You slip into the back with Mia. Her head falls on your shoulder. You gave him your address. He presses the car to start and pulls away. Not long your friend falls asleep, her head falling asleep on your shoulder. You caught him looking at you a few times through the rear-view mirror, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.

Pulling in the parking lot of your complex, Jin got out first then opened the door for you. He helped you with Mia and supported her up.

Going to the first floor of your apartment complex you made sure Jin was following you with Mia. Shoving the key in your door you let him in, leading him through your apartment to her room. He laid her down onto her bed. You began helping take her shoes off, Jin leaving to go to the living room. Taking a moment to help her clean up and ready for bed. She smiled at you partially awake, partially asleep.

“What?” You smiled back.

Giggling, “He likes you too.”

You froze, staring at her incredulously before you played it off as she was too drunk to know what she was talking about. “You’re drunk go to sleep.”

She shook her head. She grabbed your hand staring you directly in the eyes. “No, I’m sure.”  

“He already has a mate.”

Her eyebrows squinted. “No he doesn’t. He doesn’t smell like it.”

You refrained form rolling your eyes. “You wolves and your weird olfactory fixation.”

She sighed then let go, allowing her eyes to close as she fell asleep. You remained crouched by her bed, trying to decipher her words. Jin, didn’t have a mate? And liked you? She must mean that he tolerated you, civil at most. The kiss the other day meant nothing, you were sure of it. It was spur of the moment, high stress and you both didn’t know what you were doing.

She was drunk what did she know.

Standing up with a click to your knees you groaned, you were exhausted. The adrenaline finally wearing away of what happened earlier. Seeing Jin standing in your living room was awkward. He was looking at the photos on the wall. Specifically staring at a photo of when you were younger and Jin was also in it. You both looked so happy, with paint on both of your faces and white shirts.

You hesitate, weirdly feeling as if you were caught with something you should be. “Kinda hard not finding a picture of the old days without you in it.”

He looked at you, putting his hand down from touching the edge of the frame.

When he says nothing you clear your throat, “Thank you.”

He turned towards you, sticking his hands in his pockets, humming in acknowledgement.

“I’ll format all the recordings and photos for the—.”

He cut you off. “You looked happy here.” He pointed to the photo next to the one he was touching. It was of you and a few friends at the beach. It was taken the last year of college.

You smirked. “Hey, I know how to have fun. I’m not all business.”

He smirked, “Would’ve fooled me.” You knew he was poking fun. This time you enjoyed it. Turning to you. “You even turned our night off into a work night, at a club no less.”

You couldn’t argue there, in steading biting your bottom of your lip. He follow the motion before looking up. Clearing your throat you changed the subject.  “He said that I was his mate.”

His whole body stiffened. “Impossible.” He crossed the room closer to you, just stopping a foot away.

You looked up at him, the sudden hostility throwing you off. He scanned you over once more. “Are you sure you’re alright? He didn’t touch you?”

“No.” You fought off the blush that threatened to rise to your cheeks. The attentiveness he was giving you was doing things to your heart that you promised yourself you wouldn’t let happen again. You flush suddenly remembering how soft his lips feel.

Nodding seemingly distracted with his thoughts. “I’ll look into that.” He began making his way towards the door and you followed. He stood outside your doorway.

He hesitated before nodding, as if he had contemplated something. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You returned the words in a soft whisper.

He began walking away towards his car.

“Jin.”

He turned around.

“How’d you know where to find me?”

He paused, his face clearly. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when a smile, an expression you haven’t seen on him. Jin looked like his old self.  “I just went where the wild things are. I knew I’d find you there.”

You laughed, “I hate you.”

A smirk came back to his lips. “Don’t go soft on me now, Y/n.”

You watched him slip into his car before going inside. Alone with yourself you felt unsettled. Lately, it had been happening more. You chalked it up to being stressed, but stress was a constant in your life. This emotion was blaringly obvious to you, but you didn’t understand. Why did him leaving leave a hint of sadness.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, totally. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Logan pulled a face saying he wasn’t convinced. The others had already gathered their stuff and were heading towards the elevators. Yoongi suddenly threw his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”

You couldn’t help but smile biting back laughter. Yoongi was a man of few words, but he always knew when to insert himself.  

You turn back to your desk when they’re out of sight. In all truth you didn’t want to go. You wanted peace, and despite wanting to follow the social cues it was the last thing you needed right now.

Accompanied by the lone light from your desk, the silence of the office greets you in full embrace. The electronic whorl of central air kicking on. You busy yourself with “last-minute” paperwork you had purposefully withheld on doing, knowing this celebrating was coming. The case had gone incredibly well, it was easy to prove the divorce with your added evidence. It was set to go to secondarily trial within the kind’s court. You just needed to give yourself enough time to know they were out of the building and you could go home.

“Y/n?”

You looked over your shoulder. Seokjin stood there, you could see wear of the day on him but it somehow painted him like oil paint. His hair was disheveled, and the top buttons of his white button up were undone.

“I forgot my wallet.”

You hum. It’s a bit awkward. Watching him round the desk to his in silence. Ever since you had turned in the case over to Yoongi, you had distanced yourself from him. There had been no incentive to not go because of him. It had been a looming idea over your head though that after this you weren’t going to be seeing him.

He held up his wallet, “Found it.”

“You found it.”

He swallowed tucking it in his pocket. He rounded the desk standing just near yours. His hand was clenched in a fist, words on the tip of his tounge.

“Well, it was great working with you Y/n.”

Standing up you extend out your hand. Staring at it for a moment his eyes soften taking yours in his.

“The truce was sufficient after all.” He joked.

“Don’t get too soft on me now.” You joked back.

He smiled. The handshake had long outlived itself, but you still held his and he held yours.

“Well, this is goodbye.” When you tried letting go his grip tightened. “Jin?”

“I can’t. I can’t keep pretending.”

“Pretending?”

“Pretending I’m okay with you walking out of my life again. Pretending that I’m not effected by you. I can’t. I can’t handle it for the second time.”

His logic was flawed. You didn’t allow your heart to pick up pace, fall into his words. “What do you mean? You said you didn’t need me.”

“I lied. I never meant what I said then. I never wanted to hurt you or push you away.”

Your eyes flicker about his face, looking for signs of deception but couldn’t find it. “Then, why did you?”

“I couldn’t control it, I couldn’t control my wolf. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Jin, you wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“No, I would have. I couldn’t control it back then, the urges were too intense. I’m weak when it comes to you.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do though. I was weak, and whenever you would come near me it became harder to control. The night I found you I couldn’t think straight. Now though, I can’t deny it anymore, I know what I want. And I want you.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you have a mate, what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well don’t you?”

“I’m not seeing anyone or have claimed anyone—yet.”

You pausing looking at his distraught face.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t?”

“No.” His touches were romantic.

“Well I still don’t see what this conversation has to do with me.” , “Look, I’m not here to get mixed up in whatever.”

“Are you really that oblivious? Do you really not see it?”

“See what?”

He groaned rubbing his hands over his face. “Y/N, you’re killing me here.”

“It’s you. You are my mate.”

Everything froze around you.

Your hands trailed up his chest to wrap around his neck.

“My mate.”

“What?” You freeze. Attempting to put all the pieces of the puzzle together none of it makes sense to you. “You said so yourself humans can’t be mates.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you. You aren’t bound by the same instincts or rules that I am. I was worried, I thought it was only me who felt something. But it’s you, always has been.”

He pulled you closer, and you didn’t fight him.

“Please, I’ll tell you everything, but I need to know. Do you feel the same?”

You swallowed hard. “I do.”

His body melted. “Do you mean that?”

You rolled your eyes. Your hands were around his neck, pulling him down and your lips crashing onto his even before he could finish that sentence. The sudden softness in the midst of the charged tension had you even more sure that you wanted this. The electricity just a kiss from him confirmed it all. You did feel the same way, have for a long time. He reciprocated gripping the sides of your waist and lips moving in tandem with yours. All the built-up tension from before exploded as your tongue brushing against his.

You push him away needing to breath. Tucking his head into your neck he presses kisses into your skin not wanting to part from you. “Why were you so worried? Didn’t you know that I was your mate before?”

“No, we can only begin to find our mates after we’ve fully shifted.“

Finding a place between your neck and collar he nipped at the flesh causing you to moan and shiver. Appreciating the sound he dug his hand deeper into your hair angling your head so he could access it better. “I knew it was you for sure after I shifted, but you were human and I didn’t understand. I had always been told that a mate couldn’t be human. But its been you all along. My elders had tried to talk me out of it, they had tried to keep me away from you. It didn’t help that I had so much to learn after shifting. It didn’t change anything, I kept looking for you. From the first time I found myself in your closet, I was too young to understand destiny, but its always been you.”

You didn’t realize how much you wanted to hear those words from him until he admitted it.

“Why? Why were you so mean.”

“I couldn’t get your attention otherwise.”

You giggled into eachother mouth. “Dumbass, all of this could have been avoided.”

He pinched at your side causing you to shriek.

“Let me take you home.” His voice is low and sweet, and drips like honey.

It takes a second to register what he said, awestruck by how much the words feel common place. “Okay.”

He chases your lips before pulling you along with him. “Wait! I need to get my stuff.”

You laugh at the whine that comes form him as you collect your things form your desk. When you turn around he has his hand extended and you tangle your hand in his. You can’t get the smile off your face. The next movements are rushed as you find yourself in his car. His hand tangles back in yours as soon as he’s in the drivers’ seat.

It takes all about fifteen minutes to get to Jin’s apartment. The moments in between getting there were filled with tension as his hand no longer was just content holding yours but clenching over your thigh and kneading the flesh. Upon reaching his unit he fumbled with the code for a few seconds. When he finally had you inside he pressed himself to you. He no longer appeared to be completely human. His fangs were extended, eyes gleaming red, and he at you like a man starved. He rolls his hips to your center, letting you feel the evidence of his erection tight against his slacks. “Tell me what you want. Anything you want, you can have it.”

“Jin.” You moaned at the feeling of him pressed against your center. You wanted all of him, but you didn’t know how to voice it all. You wanted to feel his weight on top of you, feel him within you and to hold him against you. You wanted more than just that though, but words felt unfulfilling besides his name.

“You really don’t realize what you do to me.” He grabbed under your thighs lifting you up so that your legs rested over his arms while he supported you against the wall. He grinded into you again, his hot breath fanning over your face before he sloppily kissed you.

“You turn me into a beast.”

He shifted so that your legs were wrapped around his waist and he held onto you tightly as he moved towards his bedroom. It all happens so quickly. You were pressed down on his bed with him hovering over you. He tugged at your shirt silently asking for permission to remove it which you give him happily. He pulled it off you delicately, as if you were an art piece he was afraid of breaking. He reached behind you an unhook your bra, tossing it.

He stared for a few moments. You wanted to cross your arms over your chest but he stopped you.

“Beautiful.” He swallowed harshly. He leans down trailing his nose along your sternum before nuzzling at your breast. His hand trailed up the side of your body before reaching your breast and kneading the flesh. His thumb traces over your nipple until they pebbled. With the other his mouth sucked marked into your flesh before taking your nipple into his mouth. You release soft gasp at the gentle pleasure. He switched showering each breast with kisses and small bites until they were both marked.

He propped himself up as he moved his mouth down from your chest to your stomach, caressing your sides. He moved until he was nestled between your legs. Sitting back on his heels he reaches for the waistband of your skirt again asking for permission. Intoxicated on the feeling you nod at him lazily. He pulled it down landing somewhere with your other clothes.

He spread your legs wider fitting himself between your legs. You were so wet that the fabric of your panties stuck to you. Using the slick he traced his finger over your slit, focusing on your clit. Your back arched off the bed, bowing towards the ceiling. It was a simple touch, but you were hypersensitive to his touch. With his face between your legs he looks deliriously in bliss.

The dichotomy of his nature made him an anomaly. He was domineering but tender in each of his approaches. Each motion was made with love, but eagerness to feel you. No partner you’ve had before had been so attentive, trekking your body as it was meant to be explored and learned.

“Shit, Y/n, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

You gasped his name when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your clit. He chuckled, “Is my name the only thing you can say now?”

You flushed, “Stop teasing me.”

He pressed a kiss to your knee soothing the teasing.

“Fuck, you smell so ready for me.”

“Please.” You pleaded breathlessly.

“Just a taste, please.”

You nodded threading your hands through his hair. He hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them down tossing them somewhere in the room. Yanking you forward and closer to him he spreads your legs for him putting you on full display. Kissing up your thighs moving closer to your center. When he places a kiss on your mound before he begins to gently. He sighed against your folds. “Delicious.”

He taste you longer than just a sample as he buries his head between your legs. The sounds of your moans and mewls awaken the cavernous part of him. He growled, the sound sending shivers down your spine and making you even wetter.

“Jin!” you gasp, as he eats you out. When he pushes a finger inside you can’t help but tighten your grip on his hair. It felt so good, the stretch was sending your sensitivity to overdrive. It has been a long time since you’ve had sex with someone, but your cunt was accepting his finger easily. He worked you up and slipped another finger inside you, the stretch causing you to screw your eyes shut. Letting out a pained cry of pleasure and a bit of sting from the stretch.

“Doing so good for me Y/n.” His fingers moved to spread you open, to let him in. He watched you from between your legs as he increased his pace when he felt you relax a bit around him.

He was driving you crazy, the sounds he was admitting as if he was enjoying it more than you was such a turn on. No one had ever made you feel this way, as if he wasn’t just touching your body but your soul.  Your pressing your hips upwards, feeling your end coming near. Your pussy clenches around his finger when he keeps stroking that one spot within you. In combination with his lips on your clit and him finger fucking, you had never felt so much pleasure before.

“I’m—.” Your body tenses and you can feel yourself just on the edge.

“Come for me.” His words commanded you and like a band you snapped. Your walls pulsed around his finger as he kept you through your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean. When he seems your release dripping down from your entrance he leaned down licking it up. He pressed his tongue inside you. The action surprising and jerk, but you couldn’t move away. His tongue moved languidly and rhythmically within you until he was content. He continued to lap of your sweet release until you pushed him away.

He crawled over you. “So good for me. Fate couldn’t have chosen a better mate.” His words were possessive but you didn’t mind it. The word mate fell off his lips so easily.

You came down from the high gradually, chest heaving, and eyes

You see that he was still hesitant to let it through. You reached up cupping his face, gently tracing your thumb. “Let go.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.” He peppers kisses along your collarbone.

Your fingers make quick work of his shirt. You pause to admire his broad chest. It had been .

He grabs your hand before you reach for the button of his pants.

“Do you really know what this means. Know what I mean when I say you’re my mate and want you?”

“Yes, mark me. Claim me. I want you. I want all of you.”

“Even if it means forever?”

“yes.”

He allows you to undress the rest of him, he kicks off his pants and underwear and he’s completely bare before you.

His endowment makes your thighs clench. His cock was hard, thick and throbbing, the tip ozzing.

Coming down to his elbows he fits himself snuggly between your thighs, cock brushing your pussy. He reaches between you gathering your slick before spreading it over his cock. He teases your pussy by teasing your entrance, and with your slick he coats his cock with it.

“I’m going to fill you with my cum y/n. Knot you so none of it spills out.” He rubbed your hips. “You’d look so beautiful swollen with my pups.”

You couldn’t help but tremble, excitement filling your veins. You wanted to be sated, to feel him inside you already.

“I want it Jin.”

‘Anything for you, my love.”

That was the last warning you got before he was pressing into you. He watched your face as he filled with you with this thick length. You cried out, as you fisted the sheet under you. “Oh my god.”

His grip tightened on your hips enough you were sure they were going to bruise later. He was trembling just as much as you were. Slowly sinking in you he pumped until he was full seated inside you.

“Holy shit, this is way better than I’ve ever imagined.” He paused allowing you to adjust to his size.  

When you shifted against him he took it as a cue to finally move. He pulled out almost the full way before he was sliding back in slowly. It drew out a choked moan from the both of you. His length dragged against your walls hitting that spot each time.

“Harder, please, harder!” You cried out. You trusted him enough to know he would keep his strength in check. You knew he could crush you, as lifting you earlier seemed like nothing to him.

The pace was gentle until he picked up a merciless pace. Each powerful thrust pushed him in deeper to you. You were quickly unraveling approaching your second orgasm in record time. The sensation of everything was addicting as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Tears built in the corner of your eyes.

He mouthed at your neck murmuring, “My mate. My sweet little mate, so good for me. Taking me so well.”

Nearing your orgasm you began trembling in his embrace. “Come again for me, my love. Give it to me.”

You clenched around him, shattering around his cock and in the same moment he sunk his fangs sunk in between your neck and shoulder. The pain meshed with the pleasure into an addictive eliquer that flooded your system.

He kept going. “Too much Jin!”

Licking clean the marking he pulled away from your neck. He pressed your legs up into your chest. He could see his cock going in and out of your swollen lips. He kept pounding into you, somehow reaching deeper into you. “I’m going to fill you up, love. Do you want it baby?”

You nodded. “Give it to me.” Tears were spilling form your eyes from the overstimulation.

With a final slam of his hips his length swelled inside you spilling his seed within you. When you expected it to end his length was still swelling at the base.

“Jin, what’s happening?” Your nails dug into his shoulders.

“Shhh, baby, its okay.” His mouth slipped back over to your neck, kissing over the fresh mark. He peppered you with affection as his hands soothed your flesh. He relaxed your legs until they wrapped around his waist holding you close.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore the knot stopped swelling. You heaved, panting slightly from the painful stretch.

“You did so well.”

You smiled, pulling him to your lips to kiss. The way he was looking at you as if you were his world had you reaching up to cover your face.

“What just happened?”

He stilled, “Do you regret it?”

You pulled your hands away form his face. “No, no, no.” He easily succumbs when you pull him closer to you. You rub your nose against his back and forth, wanting to return the affection. “It was perfect.”

He flushed crimson.

 You spend hours after within eachothers embrace, even when his knot swelled down. You talked, whispered words of affection to eachother and fell into eachothers embrace again. Like the first time his touch is gentle, he praises the moon for bringing him to you. He leaves no part of you untouched, and you his.

You feel at home for the first time in a long time.

When the sun rises, you wake in his arms, head in the crook of his neck, as he held you tightly to his chest. Bodies still bare, you both felt there was no need to cover, he had his hand over your hip. Breathing in the scent of him and . The silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable. The sound of his heartbeat in your ear was calming.

Slowly pulling away from his neck you reach up and caress his face. With your thumb you trace under his eye and cheek with a butterflies touch.

“I love you.”

He smiles. “No. I’m supposed to say it first.”

You quirk a brow at him. “Who says so?”

He opened his eyes, the trails of sleep still evident. “I do. I love you, always have.” He captures your lips in his.

“You stayed.”

You pulled away. “Of course, I would.”

He smiled. “I know, but to have you here. In my bed. Next to me. It all seems like I’m still dreaming.”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheesy, you dork.”

“But you like it.”

Giggling as he peppers kisses all over your face you manage to worm out of his embrace. You jump out of bed. Taking his dress shirt from off the floor you toss it over yourself buttoning up a few buttons. “Don’t sour the sweetness too soon, wolf boy.” You let the last word roll but with no real malice. You know the word will rile him up.

From the bed he watched you. He had never seen anyone more beautiful. You had his heart that was for sure. He tossed the blanket off of himself chasing after you. “You take that back.”

You giggled running down his hall and out of sight with him chasing right behind you.

Even after the wildest journey, some things in life, like home, just won’t change.

[redorich]

-slips into your inbox-

Hullo red, 'tis me, Fidget. Here to haunt your inbox because you have gravely wounded me with so many things today.

First of all, sad Phil. God, he guts me. 'Impulse has a family, he does not need Philza.' has ripped out my heart. Please, this man has been trough so much. Willbur died by his own hands, Tommy he almost killed because he believed dream, and apparently not even Techno trusts him. After all, he did keep Tommy's location a secret from even him for a long time. (That Techno is loyal to a fault does not matter in this horrible interpretation of things.)

And then.

And THEN you hit me with the replaced family bit? Bdkandjakyba. My heart is weak and fragile, please Red.. Please I just... Want this family to heal a little. Someone please teach Phil that he can not shoulder the burden of the world by himself, that he was just one man in a war torn world who did the best he could. And his best wasn't good enough, but that doesn't mean he wasn't trying, that he is a bad person for it.

Like, Tommy had a whole, peaceful Server of well adjusted adults looking out for him and Phil had his bootstraps and the voices of the blood god first in his own and then in Techno's head.

It must've been hard to keep sane (I don't think he quite managed either.)

And maybe Phil doesn't go to see impulse to help him. Because he can see that the hermits are doing a much better job than he ever could, can see that Impulse is getting better not worse like Phil did all that time ago.

But Impulse now helped to save two of his sons. Perhaps Phil ought to make the journey and thank him, shoulders heavy with broken wings and broken hopes. He couldn't give his family what they needed, but impulse could. The hermits could.

It would be rude to leave this deed unacknowledged. (Perhaps Impulse or another hermit who's around sees the Trauma that seems to cling to this family like tar and thinks: Oh, it's free real estate(for adoption). You did mention Xisuma likes to adopt sad people.)

Cleo keeps nudging Philza to talk to Impulse. Philza's friendship with Cleo is new, so he can't yet tell whether it's an "as an immortal I'm telling you not to make a mistake" thing or an "I'm a nosy little weasel" thing. Not that Philza would ever call Cleo a nosy little weasel to her face, even if she'd probably take it as a compliment.

So, he goes and says hello to Impulse in his giant quartz base, even though he doesn't want to. Impulse, for his part, looks a bit taken aback, but takes the visit in stride.

“Y’know, call me crazy, but I got the impression that you don’t like me much,” Impulse laughs awkwardly.

Philza tilts his head, recalling his interactions with Impulse-- or rather, lack thereof. “Oh, ‘cause I was avoiding you?”

Impulse starts, caught off guard by the blatant admission. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did.”

Waving off the concern, Philza speaks freely. “Nah mate, you’re fine. I’ve got no quarrel with you. Anyway, I was just stopping by to say thank you. For-- for taking care of Tommy, and Techno too.” Philza smiles wryly. “’S more than I ever did for them, I guess.”

“You did plenty,” Impulse protests with a furrowed brow. “Techno talks about you all the time.”

The immortal blond blinks, as if he didn’t expect to hear that. “Eh,” he says in lieu of addressing it. Instead, he changes the topic completely.

“I’m trying out this whole ‘Hermit Therapy’ thing,” he says with a shrug, “so I guess that means I’m supposed to talk about my feelings or something? And I’m a grown-ass man, so that feels more than a bit condescending, but I suppose I’ll tell you my opinion so I can at least say I tried.”

Impulse winces at the harsh, uncaring way Philza addresses the situation. Should Impulse be offering Philza a place to sit? For all the redstone farms in the base, there isn’t a chair to be found. Philza doesn’t seem to care.

“I tried raising my kids. Failed.” Philza runs a hand through the long feathers on one of his wings. “You came in and taught Tommy more about being a person than I ever did. That’s fine, he deserves it. I can’t hold it against you.”

“I--” Impulse tries to interject, but Philza talks over him.

“You helped Techno-- I never did figure out how to do that. Again, he needed that, and I’d be a petty fool to get upset just because the person who gave him what he needed wasn’t me.” Philza’s mouth flattens into a grim line.

“But then,” he says, “you went above and beyond. You saw Kharneth hurting Techno-- my boy. And you gave him hope that Kharneth could be killed. Do you know how long I spent, trying to help him come to terms with the fact that Kharneth isn’t someone-- something that can or should be killed?”

Impulse leans back, shoving his hands in his pockets. He knows that Philza tried killing Kharneth, the Blood God, and paid a price, but...

Philza runs a jittery hand through his hair. “And then you did it! You killed the Blood God. And I thought, oh, this poor man doesn’t know what he’s done. Surely the Blood God’s powers will break this man’s mind-- after all, if I couldn’t handle it, how could this soft human hope to?”

Wincing again, Impulse stays quiet. Obviously Philza needs to say his piece.

“Then you did,” the immortal says. “Why is it that everything I’ve ever done, everything I’ve ever tried to do, you’re better at it than me? You’ve got my sons wrapped around your finger, you’ve got better control of those powers than I ever did, you’re goddamn happy,” the man spits.

“...I’m sorry you feel that way,” Impulse says in mild shock, groping for the right words.

“And the worst part!” Philza steamrolls over Impulse’s apology, “Is that I don’t even hate you!”

Impulse blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re just...” Philza sighs, holding a wing in front of him like a shield. “You’re everything I wish I was, and I’m jealous and I’m mature enough to recognize that, but... is it weird of me to want to be friends with you too?”

Licking his lips, Impulse chooses his words carefully. “I’d love to be friends with you. For what it’s worth... You’ve got your own strengths, it’s just... harder for you to see them? Because you’re looking at everyone else’s strengths, comparing yourself to them, and evidently, uh. Finding yourself falling short.” He chuckles awkwardly. “I’d never last a month in a hardcore world.”

Philza looks away. “Hardcore, the one thing I’m known for. Easy enough for you to say.” He frowns, not because he’s upset with Impulse, but because he realizes he’s being a cantankerous bastard.

“I’m afraid I don’t know you too well,” Impulse says diplomatically. “Maybe... Yeah, let’s be friends.” He claps his hands together with the air of a man making a plan. “I’ll get to know you better, and then I can tell you what you’re good at, until you can learn to see it for yourself.”

The immortal swipes at Impulse’s head with a wing, but pulls the swing so that he only barely brushes the man with feather-tips. “Good lad,” he says gruffly, but he can’t quite hide his smile.

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Five

If you remember that post I made about the Red Resistance you’re a real one.

Notes: this one is very short. It’s just to move the plot along and blah blah blah. Next chapter is a good one I think.

The next time Scott showed up to the Red Desert it was for a petty fight that Scar had instigated by trying to steal directly from the Renchanting base. The situation made Scott face palm, and he contemplated not even showing up. However, when Jimmy offered to go in place of him, he told him not to bother. That he would be back in less than a day and night cycle.

Scott walked into the meeting just as the Red Army crested a hill. Which they stayed on. Scar yawned exaggeratedly and trekked up to his opponent, who was wearing a bandage on his left arm.

Cleo was also there. She seemed to be focused on drawing shapes in the cracked sand with the tip of her sword. Most likely feeling bitter about her former ally, Tango, joining Dogwarts. Everyone was paying as little attention as possible while Scar fired off false promises and white lies. Grian busied himself with apologizing to the nearest members of the Red Army for Scar’s embarrassment.

Scott was nearly falling asleep on his feet when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Tango.

“Hey Major, you got a minute?” he whispered.

“So many,” Scott responded, gesturing to the desolate state of their meeting.

The two of them quietly excused themselves from the group to speak in private. Scott didn’t know why he didn’t tell Tango to just leave him alone. Maybe it was because Tango had a certain air of reluctance about him, Scott was certain he pulled his punches. Maybe it was shear boredom.

“So, nice weather,” Tango observed the arid desert sky.

“Uh huh..” Scott provided, unimpressed.

Tango stared at him blankly. Awkwardly.

He cleared his throat, “so I heard about your battle with Skiz and Ren. Impressive,” Tango said.

“What is with you people and beating around the bush? We’re not friends,” Scott pushed Tango away by the middle of his chest, “Tango,” he reminded.

Tango looked hurt for a second, “ouch Major. Fine, I wanted to ask you to join me,” he said.

Scott burst out laughing, to which Tango scolded him and shook him by the shoulders. That shut him up, it also earned Tango a slap.

“Don’t touch me,” Scott ordered.

Tango put his hands up, “no touching here! But be quiet. I brought you over here alone for a reason,” he pointed out.

Scott glanced at his allies. Blissfully unaware of the possible treason he may have been about to commit.

“Nobody knows this yet,” Tango whispered, “but I’m spying on the Red Army,” he said.

“What?” Scott asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I have a plan. It involves you,” Tango responded.

Scott paused to consider if he was really about to entertain whatever was about to come out of Tango’s mouth.

“How do I know you’re not just trying to get close to me and then kill me on behalf of him,” Scott pointed at Ren, who was rolling his eyes at Scar and animatedly conversing with him about something Scott forgot about a long time ago.

“You remember the cow farm right?” he said.

“Yes,” Scott nodded suspiciously.

“I let you take my cow, on the promise that you and Jimmy wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tango recited.

“And we didn’t,” Scott said.

“Exactly. I know I can trust you, and I can’t trust them, Etho tried to kill me remember?” Tango pointed at Etho and Ren.

“So I want you to join me. Not the Red Army, me. Impulse is doing the same thing,” he concluded.

“Didn’t Impulse actually kill you?” Scott pointed out.

Tango waved his hand, water under the bridge.

Scott drifted off into contemplation. Everything about joining a coup against the Red Army screamed danger. More than usual. Dogwarts was a force to be reckoned with. They had superior gear, defenses, players, and alliances. Maybe Scott could cheap shot Martyn and Skizzle, but he could not promise that same luck against Etho or anyone else for that matter. The thought of even trying made his stomach turn.

And then there was Jimmy. If their plan didn’t work, what would happen to Jimmy? The Crastle? Or the Red Desert for that matter? The target on their backs was large enough. Scott had to take a step back. Since when did he get himself involved in a war?

Since he started defending himself, his mind provided.

Since he started standing up for his own freedom. For their freedom.

“Okay,” Scott said.

“Really? You’re in?” Tango’s eyes lit up, his joy was a bit loud for Scott’s new predilection for secrecy.

“Shh!” Scott put a finger in front of his face, “that’s not what I said…” he averted his eyes.

“I want to, believe me, I do,” he said, “but I can’t.”

Tango’s smile faded instantly, his red eyes grew disappointed, “Why not?” he seemed hurt.

“I have too much to lose. I can’t risk this,” Scott held the charm of his necklace up, it’s gemstone still shimmered bright green.

“Scott, I admire your devotion, I really do; but this is a bit bigger than that,” Tango said.

Scott’s expression fell into shock and reproach.

That seemed like enough of an answer for Tango, who backtracked as he realized he’d struck a nerve.

“I mean!” he corrected, “I mean nothing will happen to Jimmy. Cross my heart, he will be under the Red Resistance’s finest protection,” Tango stood up straight and crossed his heart.

Scott decided that was satisfactory. He made a face that said the opposite though, just to make sure Tango’s pride wasn’t too uplifted.

“Fine. I’ll join you Tango, but if I get even the slightest inclination of funny business, I’m out,” Scott cautioned, but he agreed.

“Terms and Conditions, I get it. The Red Resistance will not indenture any of its members,” Tango responded with a gleeful grin.

“You guys and your red themed names,” Scott teased, but held his hand out. They ought to make it official before everyone stopped snoring.

Tango shook it enthusiastically. The two called it done and Scott returned to his side, and Tango returned to the Red Army.

*****

Scott traveled back home that day. No fighting had taken place, although Scar had decidedly talked himself into a hole and ended up giving Ren access to any sand Dogwarts and their affiliates needed for the next week. It was no skin off Scott’s back, he didn’t care. Not his sand.

Wearing so much armor and standing in place for two hours gets on ones nerves. Taking off his heavy diamond chestplate felt like enough liberation for the day. He expected to hear from Tango or Impulse at some point, preferably soon.

Jimmy asked him how the meeting went when he returned, holding out a cup of coffee.

Unsure of whether or not to tell the truth, Scott lied, he said nothing happened and made fun of Scar for running his mouth so much. He said he was tired.

*****

“Scott? That you?” Tango’s voice came through a small door in his abandoned cow farm. It wasn’t needed anymore.

Scott pointed his torch towards the voice, illuminating a door, which Tango had crafted into the side of the underground farm.

“Yes it’s me. Why’s it so dark in here?” he asked.

“I don’t want people to know I’m still using this place, that’s why,” Tango motioned for Scott to come to him.

Tango silently listened for any sign that Scott had been followed, then pushed a stone slab in front of the hidden door with a silent thud.

On the other side of the door was a short hallway, then a very small room with some pillows on the floor and a table. A map of the server that included all the structures and members was pinned up on the wall. There was also a well loved notebook on the table.

“Where’s Impulse?” Scott asked, sitting down on one of the pillows.

“Ren needed him for something, he’ll probably be here next time,” Tango explained. He sat down and lit a candle to make more light.

“I thought we would start by going over the basics today,” Tango picked up the notebook and flipped through some of the pages absently.

Scott looked away and then back, “okay, shoot,” he said.

The “plan” centered around infiltrating the Red Army, convincing them (mainly Ren) that Scott had decided to switch sides. Then, him, Tango, and Impulse would eventually build their trust. Somewhere in there they would convince the Red Army to stop messing with people and come to an agreement with the rest of the server. Something about working together instead of against each other.

“We still have to work some stuff out,” Tango concluded with confidence.

“That’s the plan? You really think this’ll work?” Scott crossed his arms.

“If you can insult Scar convincingly enough, yes,” Tango said.

“Oh this’ll be easy!” Scott laughed, mostly to cover up his nerves.

Tango chuckled with him, then became serious once more, “I’m glad you have a sense of humor going into this. Even after what they did to you,” Tango said.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” he apologized.

Scott’s hands stung a bit in response, but he nodded a silent “thanks”.

They were quiet. Scott nervously fiddled with the hem of his coat, lost in thought, mostly regret.

Impulse did show up the next time. He arrived just after Scott did. Everyone sat awkwardly in the little room for a while and Scott was wrapped in nostalgia for a similar time. A time where the only threat was an obscene number of phantoms.

Over the course of their meetings, Scott observed his teammates and their actions. A far cry from who they used to be, including him. Scott’s hair had grown past his ears and turned purple at the tips, and he’d become rather paranoid about always wearing armor.

Tango spent much of their interactions lost in thought. The ghost of whatever was eating at him weighed visibly on his shoulders in the way his head was always bowed in a perpetual staring contest with the ground. He was irritable.

Impulse was a wild card to Scott, they’d never really met before; but it was clear he’d been changed as well. Illustrated by his long “mining” trips, which he only returned from to attend their weekly meetups with no resources to show for it, and a general aura of depression.

His mind was drawn back to the picture Cleo had taken of almost all his server-mates, together in front of the Vibe Machine. He’d studied everyone’s faces countless times. Mostly wondering where everything had gone wrong.

Had they ever truly been friends in the first place? Or was camaraderie a comfort when everyone else was just as weak as one another.