#because they get weaker when torn apart over him and even HE realises that that doesn’t benefit him

[something-nunholy]

The indomitable urge to do a rewrite of S3 where Valtor becomes a girldad to the Trix rather than a love interest. Also, the Trix aren’t nerfed.

[tricksters-captain]

Helmut Zemo (TFATWS) imagines - Craving Part 2

AN: Right giving you all what you really wanted... 

Summary: After playing the part as Zemo's arm candy in Madripoor, Zemo tries to confront you on your unspoken connection, only to be rudely interrupted...

In this chapter: After having a dream about the man himself, you decide to seek out Zemo...

(PART 1 HERE)

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,013

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, receiving oral, choking, Zemo does use a couple phrases in his language and since Sokovia isn’t a real country or language I used Polish (I have seen several fic use German before however). 

You tossed and turned in bed as you tried to get comfortable. Your skin felt hot and uncomforatble to be in and your mind wouldn't stop replaying Zemo’s hands on you. The large bedroom made every movement sound louder than it was so every time you rolled and made the bed frame creak, the more you frustrated you grew. 

You hated Zemo for making you feel so confused. He was an attractive man, that was true, but he had torn the avengers apart. He had used Bucky’s past against him several times and even gotten you hurt because of it. Why did you all of a sudden have the desire to see what he tasted like... 

You figured he’d taste like mint toothpaste and whiskey or perhaps of coffee from earlier or perhaps.... What were you doing?! 

You buried your face into your pillow and groaned. 

You must’ve fallen asleep eventually because you had started dreaming. 

You were back in Madripoor. It was Sharon’s high town home and you had just changed for the party. Except you weren’t wearing what you actually wore that night. Instead, you were wearing a long silky black dress that dropped to the floor with a small trail. It had thin black straps that went over your shoulder and connected to the dress delicately; the dress was completely backless and the cool air from Sharon’s AC tickled your exposed skin. 

“You look beautiful.” Zemo’s voice filled the room. You looked up in the mirror to see Zemo standing at the door behind you. 

“It’s not too much?” You asked, flattening out the skirt with your hands. 

Zemo made his way towards you until he was right behind you. The hairs prickling up on your back revealed just how close he was standing. 

“Not at all.” Zemo brushed the tip of his finger along your shoulder, following the curve from your neck and then down your arm until he cupped your elbow gently. “You look perfect.” 

You felt your breathing stop as Zemo started to learn forward, his eyes remained locked with yours in the mirror as his lips finally met your skin. 

He kissed your shoulder lightly before opening his mouth and grazing his teeth against your flesh, biting ever so gently but with enough pressure to make the sex between your legs throb. 

“We shouldn’t.” You whispered. 

“Why not?” Zemo turned you to face him with the hand that rested on your elbow. He brought you closer to him, pressing a hand to the exposed small of your back. His strong calloused hand against you only made your legs feel weaker. 

“You know why.” You placed your hands on his chest but didn’t push him away. Yet. 

“Ahh, yes. Because of James?” Zemo tilted his head. “What would poor James do if he caught us together like this?” Zemo let his hand slide down the outside of your thigh and hook under your knee, bringing your leg up to his hip to bring you closer. 

You smirked, leaning into the man’s ear. Brushing your lips just ever so slightly against his lobe as you spoke. 

“He’d kill you.” You whispered. 

That’s when you woke up. 

You woke up covered in sweat, your chest heaving and your hair slick to your forehead. You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep for because Bucky was now asleep on the couch in the room too. 

You hoped you didn’t sleep talk anything weird during that dream but you figured that Bucky would be waiting for you to wake up to confront you if you had said Zemo's name or something similar. 

You climbed out of the bed quietly and headed towards the door. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep after that dream and you had felt gross from waking up all sweaty so you made your way to the bathroom. 

You splashed cool water on your face and wiped your neck and chest with a damp towel before you left the bathroom again.

You looked down the hall to Zemo’s room. 

You knew which one it was for safety measures. Sam had taken the room beside his so that he could keep an eye on him but you knew Sam would probably be in the living room on his laptop at this hour to keep watch. Make sure no one is sneaking in or out of the apartment. But that also meant you could creep over to Zemo’s room without the anxiety of Sam coming out of his. 

You found yourself walking before you could stop yourself. 

You hovered outside the door for what felt like an eternity before you lightly rapped on the door. 

You opened it without hearing a response. 

Zemo was sat up on the edge of the bed, tying his robe around him as he must have had been woken by the intrusion. 

“I thought you were Sam.” Zemo rose to his feet after he realised it was you who had entered. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologised. 

“You didn’t. I was merely laying in the bed. I did not lie when I told you about my struggles with sleeping.” Zemo had mentioned his insomnia in the kitchen before. 

You remained in the doorway, just looking at Zemo, panicking slightly as you tried to find something to say. 

“I don’t know why I’m here.” You said lowly. 

“You don’t?” Zemo cocked his eyebrow at you but didn’t move. 

“I just...” You started, “I had this...” You failed to explain yourself.  

“Shh. Shh. Shh.” Zemo waved his hand. He slowly made his way towards you. “You don’t need to come up with excuses.” 

“I’m not.” You argued. 

“Just tell me the truth.” Zemo was now in front of you. He was close enough that you could see the slight stripe pattern on his dark pyjamas beneath his robe. You could also see slight hair poking out of the top of his shirt as the first few buttons were undone. You resisted the urge to reach out and stroke your fingers down his exposed chest, to explore what was beneath his silk pyjamas...

“I-I...” You struggled to respond. You almost felt like punching a wall at how frustrated you were at the fact that Zemo somehow managed to leave you completely speechless. 

“I often use these long nights to think.” Zemo spoke so you didn’t have to. 

“What do you think about?” You questioned. 

“A lot of things usually.” Zemo waved his hand as he spoke. “But these past couple nights I’ve found myself thinking of something more out of the ordinary.”

“And what’s that?” You asked.

“You.” Zemo cocked his head as he looked at you.

You felt a heat grow between your legs as you watched his eyes flicker to your lips for a second. 

“May I?” Zemo stepped forward, reaching his hand out to close the door behind you.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his face passed yours. Zemo slowly pulled back from the door, your faces were mere inches away from each other as he hadn't bothered to go around you to close the door but over your shoulder instead. 

Your gaze met. The thick tension around you was suffocating. 

With his right hand, he reached up and cupped your jaw, firmly underneath your ear. His thumb ran over your cheek; his touch burning against you.  

Zemo leant forward, closing the space between you, and kissed you. 

It was a sweet kiss. A first kiss. He was testing the waters. 

Just as he went to pull away, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him back in. Your body flushed against his as a powerful urge took over you. 

Desperation. Need. A fire that grew in your stomach.

Zemo placed one hand in your hair and it’s counterpart on the small of your back. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he tugged lightly at the back of your hair. 

Zemo’s mouth traveled down your jaw to your neck. His tongue sent goosebumps over your skin as he explored it. He could taste the saltiness from the result of your dream. 

“Did you get all hot and bothered for me, mały ptaszku?” He cooed as his hand moved from your hair to your shoulder. He stroked down the back of your arm until he reached your elbow. You felt your heart skip with the flashback to your dream. 

“What are we doing?” You asked breathlessly as you clung onto the man’s robe. 

“Anything you desire.” He lifted his head back to face you. 

There was a beguiling darkness in his eyes but it didn’t scare you. It only enticed you. 

Zemo took your hand and brought it to his lips. He pressed a silky kiss to your fingers all the while maintaining eye contact. The way his lips look as they curved against your fingers made your stomach tighten with want.

Zemo had noticed the blazing fire in your eyes as you watched him. He smirked, taking just one of your fingers and placing in between his teeth. He dragged it gently, grazing your finger as he pulled it down his lip; the cool night air tickled the wetness on your skin.

Zemo let go of your hand before lifting his own fingers to your lips. You let out a shaky breath as he stroked his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“So beautiful.” Zemo took a moment to admire you. Your lips were slightly plump from his kiss and your eyes were wide, glistening in the dim light. 

You reached forward and steadily untied his robe. He shrugged off the extra layer at your silent request. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Zemo’s searched your eyes for any hesitation or uncertainty but failed to find any. 

You nodded your head ever so slightly. 

“Words, kochanie.” Zemo ordered.

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” Zemo’s mouth turned up at the corners. You felt your stomach flutter at the praise.

Zemo kissed you again. His large hands held either side of your neck as he guided you deeper into his room. 

You took one of the man’s hands and dragged it down your side, ushering it towards the inner of your legs. 

“Does my little bird want to be touched?” Zemo’s voice was low as he spoke into the kiss. 

You bit down on his lip and urged his hand closer. 

Zemo chuckled at your response. 

“Use your words.” He instructed you. 

You parted from the man when you realised just how close the bed was. You sat down and pushed yourself upwards so that Zemo would have to follow to continue kissing you. He recognised the play. 

“I told you to use your words.” Zemo tutted as he remained stood at the bottom of the bed. You felt him wrap his hand around your ankle before tugging you back down to him. 

You gasped at the sudden action, staring up at the man with lust blown eyes.

Zemo knelt down at the end of the bed. His hand moved up your ankle and began to push up your pyjama leg up. His lips pressed against your ankle, nipping and licking your skin as he worked his way up your calf. 

When he reached your thigh and could go no higher, you helped him by removing your pyjama bottoms. You suddenly felt very exposed in just a tank top and your panties. 

“Such a good girl.” Zemo smirked at your hurry to strip for him. 

Zemo held your thigh with his hand, he dragged his tongue along the inside of it, biting your skin softly but didn’t venture too close to your core. He could sense just how desperate you were for him as your legs began to slightly shake with want. But he wanted you to beg...

You reached down and buried a hand in his thick, styled hair. He only smirked and glanced up at you through his eyebrows as you tried to bring him closer to you. 

Zemo hooked his fingers around your panties and pulled them down, freeing your hot sex to him. 

Zemo sent you a dark smile just before he pressed his tongue against you. The smell of you was too much to resist, he had to taste you. You inhaled sharply as he buried himself between your legs. His tongue teased your clit as his forefinger began to circle your entrance.

“So wet for me.” Zemo murmured. 

His finger pressed inside of you and you arched your back, desperate for more. 

“It’s been a while, mały ptaszku?” Zemo was watching your every reaction as he pumped his finger in and out of you. “For me too.” He confessed. 

His tongue found your sensitive bud again and applied more pressure, causing your grip on the man’s hair to turn even tighter. Zemo groaned at your tugging. His eyes lulling back as his boxers became very tight around his member. 

You could feel your walls tensing as he entered a second finger inside you. Your stomach twisted with your approaching climax. 

“I’m gonna...” You barely managed to breathe out two words out.

“Sing for me, mały ptaszku.” Zemo commanded, his eyes glued to you as he watched you come undone around his fingers. 

Zemo retracted his hand as he allowed you a moment to recover. He wiped the slick wetness from his chin as he regained his stance. 

You leant forward and took hold of the man’s shirt, tugging him towards you. Zemo teeth scraped against your lips as he kissed you fiercely. You craved for him to be inside of you and he craved the same. Watching you cum for him only made him ache with want and need. 

“Zemo...” You used his name for the first time that night, “Please...” 

Zemo couldn’t resist your pleads. 

He tore his pyjama shirt off and stripped of his bottoms, revealing his thick member. 

You reached forward, taking hold of him to feel his impressive size. His tip dripped with precum and the groan that rumbled from his throat at your touch only made you want him more. 

Zemo placed his hands under your arms and tossed you higher up on the bed. You exhaled a shaky breath at the dominant action. He climbed on top of you, parting your legs with his knee. 

“I feel I need to remind you that it has been a very long time since I have been with a beautiful woman such as yourself so I shall try my best to hold back.” Zemo was honest as he aligned his tip to your entrance. 

He slid himself up between your folds spreading your wetness on his head, you felt your convulse at the feeling of his hard cock on your throbbing clit. 

Zemo’s jaw clenched tightly as he finally pressed himself into you, his eyes closed as he relished the feeling. 

You rocked your hips against his as he filled you completely. 

Zemo remained still a moment as he just you fully adjust before he started to move inside of you. 

His hand found your throat as he began to pick up his pace. 

Your nails dug deep into his skin as he squeezed your neck lightly. 

Zemo thrusts became deeper, harder and with every stroke, you felt that sweet spot ache inside you. 

Zemo began to murmur in Sokovian under his breath as he fucked you.

You wrapped your legs around him, your body begging him to fuck you harder. Zemo was happy to comply. 

He thrusted deep within you. Sweat was building on his forehead and his skin felt like fire against your own. 

You clawed at the hand that was wrapped around your neck. Longing for more pressure. 

Zemo eyes rolled back for a moment as he felt your walls begin to tighten around him. 

“Fuck... (Y/n)...” The sound of your name on his lips sent a wave of electricity through your body. 

Zemo released your neck to grab hold of the  headboard behind you. His knuckles turning white as he fucked you faster. 

One of your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, clinging onto him tightly and Zemo took the chance to sink his teeth into your forearm. You winced at the delicious pain and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from cursing. 

As your second climax suddenly engulfed you, your legs tensed around the baron. The feeling of you pulsing around him was enough to bring forward his own finish. He cursed in his native tongue as he filled you with his seed. 

Zemo dropped his hand from the headboard as he tried to support his weight above you. 

His hot breath danced across your face as he panted above you. 

Zemo removed himself from you and fell beside you. 

You brought your arm up and ran your fingers over the indented teeth marks in your skin. 

“You could’ve done that somewhere less visible.” You scolded the man. 

Zemo weakly smiled at you as he tried to recover. 

“I apologise.” He said through his heavy breathes. 

You reached over the side of the bed and scooped up the baron’s silk pyjama shirt. You wrapped it around you as Zemo watched you with curiosity. 

You slid off the bed and went over to the decanter by the couch in Zemo's room. You poured yourself a glass of scotch and a glass for Zemo before returning to his side. 

“This never happened.” You held out the glass to the man. He took it carefully before clinking the glass against your own. 

“What the soldiers don’t know won’t hurt them.” Zemo was referring to Sam and Bucky. “Doesn’t mean it can’t happen again, no?”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” You straddled the man, downing your drink. 

Zemo placed his hands on your thighs, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. 

“What does mały ptaszku mean?” You suddenly recalled the name Zemo had kept calling you now that your mind wasn’t clouded from lust. 

“Little bird.” Zemo smirked. 

AN: Hoped you enjoyed ;)

Tags 

@montypythonsholysnail @chipster-21 @daniquehavinga @noavengers @and-claudia @moonstuffsteve​ @thanoshadtosnaptwiceforyou​ @the-reas0n-is-y0u​ @xaanyhs @soccer-100000​

[jincherie]

lunacy | 01

☽ ● | members: seokjin x reader x jungkook ☽ ● | genre: poly, wolf au, mates au, college au, urban fantasy, angst, smut ☽ ● | wc: 10.7k+ ☽ ● | warnings: none in particular in this part! ☽ ● | notes: here is the first part ! I think this one is going to end up being one of the longer series, so pls send me an ask and lmk what kind of tropes/scenarios u love to see in wolf aus! i wanna make this as self indulgent as possible LMFAO

The entirety of your introduction and exposure to wolves has been at the hands of Jimin and Taehyung, who over the course of your study have arguably become your best friends. It isn't until they drag you to a party held at their packhouse that you meet the rest of their pack, though-- and once you do, thing's already aren't the same as they were before;...

Wolves mate for life, and wolves are almost exclusively monogamous. It's rare for a wolf to have a human mate, and even more unheard of for a wolf to have more than one mate. Unfortunately for you, an incident at this party lands you in the middle of every exception there could possibly be.

 — posted; 09.09.2020 | prologue ● next▸

The air is crisp and the plants coloured cool around you, but you're not cold.

You recognise this clearing you're in, but not from the waking world. No, you recognise it because just as it is right now, it has been the set of your dreamscape before. So it's familiar, as you gaze upon it, but at the same time something tingles under your skin in anticipation of the unknown that the shadows hold just beyond the treeline.

It must be early morning, you think to yourself, as you allow your gaze to slip to the sky. It's just fading out of the darkened caress of the night as you look upon it, tinting lighter with each breath you take. You love mornings, you recall with familiarity-- you especially love mornings like this.

There's a slight mist in the air. You don't notice it until you direct you gaze back down to the dewy earth, eyes captured by each patch of wildflowers and blotch of colour. It feels almost magical, really, but for some reason... that isn't the tone of this moment.

You don't know what it is, but something curls in your stomach a little like anticipation. What are you waiting for? You know you've seen this place before, but you can't remember when, or why...

At some point you've taken a seat in the meadow, and while a part of you expects dampness to seep into your skin, you remain safe and dry. It's comfortable. This is the nicest dream you've ever dreamt, a distant part of you surmises. You're just running your hands through the silky blades of grass and watching the dewdrops collect on your skin when a soft snap sounds far to your left.

You probably should be alarmed, but when you look up it's only in curiosity. What you see, again, should be cause for alarm-- but for some reason, the sight of the great, hulking wolf lingering at the edge of the treeline doesn't cause you anything but a flutter in your stomach.

It's not alone, you notice a moment later as something emerges from the shadows beyond it. There are two of them, both massive but one of them a little bigger than the other-- it is leaner and its limbs are longer, though, while the shorter one is thicker in its form, each limb corded with muscle.

For a moment they stare at you, and when you catch the golden hue of their eyes that gleams a little too bright to be natural, you realise they're not normal. Of course, within the walls of this dream you take it in stride.

The way they hover all the way over the other side of the meadow is almost... hesitant. You tilt your head, watching as they stay calmly in place. When you speak it's without even thinking, but you're not bothered by what comes out.

"You can come over here, you know?" you say, offering them a smile. How cool will it be if you can manage to make friends with two wolves! Regardless of their unnatural size and stature, and, now that you think about it, their colouring...

The first to move is the bigger one, its coat a gorgeous mix of sand and caramel, with streaks of white marking around its eyes and ears, as well as fitting around its front paws like boots. You'd noticed that he was a little leaner than the other earlier, but you're realising now as you watch him advance slowly that that doesn't mean he's any weaker. Each stride he takes makes dense muscle shift beneath his skin and fur, and you're slightly in awe of the power contained in his limbs as he moves.

The other wolf is no less magnificent to behold-- its fur is a curious blend of charcoal and ink, speckled with streaks and patches of dark chestnut that gleam rosy in the sunlight. Its eyes are the same unnatural amber as the other wolf's, but the way that they bore into you are oddly akin to that of a puppy.

You don't move when they come close enough that they're within reach, allowing them to move at their own pace. You're not left waiting long, though, before the smaller one trots closer, hesitation forgotten.

"Oh!" You're taken aback when it leans forward suddenly, shoving its massive, inky head against your shoulder with such strength you almost fall back, were it not for the other wolf flopping down behind you and supporting you with its massive form. Ordinarily you'd be worried you're about to be torn to pieces, especially when faced with its massive maw and large teeth, but when it rubs its head against you with a soft whine sounding from the back of its throat, you know it doesn't mean you any harm.

"Oh, you're a cute one," you murmur distractedly, allowing your hands to rise and sink into its fur. It brushes like silk against your skin, and the wolf is so pleased that it simply flops down against you, resting it's head in your lap and pushing it against your stomach.

Something lights up in you, something warm like you've settled close to the glow of a campfire and the heat is sinking into your bones. You're content, so content, and you don't even know why? But oddly enough, in this moment you're not really bothered by that.

Right as you begin to settle back into the warmth and the rhythmic lull of their breathing as they rest against you, something niggles in the back of your brain-- a shard of familiarity, do you know these wolves? How would you know these wolves?

"Who are you?" you find yourself mumbling tiredly, the world around you beginning to shrink back until your brain is only aware of you and the warmth pressed against you.

The wolf in your lap turns its head so that its large eyes are boring into your own. It's still, tail thumping once against the ground, but something stirs in the back of your brain at his gaze. Recognition that filters like sunlight onto little pieces of information in your brain until they merge into something coherent.

It dawns on you with a soft gasp-- you know them, you do. They're--

x - x - x

"Rise and shine, buttercup! I'm sick of having to silence your alarms for you! If you don't get up this time I can and will take photos of your sleeping face! You know, with your mouth all open and drool on your pillow--"

A groan escapes you that you don't quite recognise as a sound you can make, your eyes cracking open to the sight of your roommate's bright, grinning face very close to your own. The first conscious thought to cross your brain is that she does, in fact, look very punchable right now, bending over just so she can hover her face in front of your own with that shit-eating grin.

"Jihyo go away," you slur, sleep still having a very firm grasp on your brain and vocal cords. You slam your face into the pillow, yanking the duvet over your head. Your peace lasts all of 0.03 seconds before your demon of a roommate yanks the cover almost entirely off your bed, revealing your curled form to the cool air and making you whine.

"Why?" you whine, clutching the dinosaur pillow in your hold closer to your chest. "L'me sleep..."

"Nope, nuh-uh," Jihyo moves over to give you a firm smack on the ass, making you yelp and jerk out of your sleepy haze so harshly that you almost fall off the bed. Ow! "I snoozed your alarm for you five times this morning, buttercup. No more! Get up."

"Jihyo," you whine, giving her an accusing look over your shoulder as you rub your stinging behind. "You didn't even hit me where my skin was covered, you cow."

The girl simply shrugs, hands on her hips as she decides that her work here is done and begins to make her way to the door. "That's on you for wearing shorts to bed in autumn, bub. Anyway, you really do have to get up because it's like, what, nine-thirty? And you have a class at ten, so..."

At first you simply blink, her words ringing in your ears but not really sinking in, until they suddenly do and you're leaping from your bed with a yelp.

"Jihyo!"

She cackles, the absolute madwoman, and promptly exits your room. "Better hurry, buttercup!"

At her departure you fly into a panicked rush to get ready, darting around your room and grabbing things at the speed of light. You don't have time to dwell on the contents of the dream you'd been having before you were so rudely awoken, and as you fling yourself around your apartment the remaining slivers you remember of it slip from your brain and out of your grasp until the next time.

x - x - x

Regrettably, all your rushing didn't help you earlier; you still arrived late to class. Your only saving grace is that it was a lecture instead of an actual class, and the professor had been playing a video for the cohort when you arrived and so the lights had been conveniently dimmed for you to slip right in to the back unnoticed.

It actually ended only a few minutes ago, and now you find yourself walking distractedly on the way to your next class, mind lost in all the thoughts you didn't have time to entertain this morning. Fleetingly, the dream flicks through your mind-- what's left in your memory of it, anyway. You can barely conjure any of the details, or even what the two wolves looked like in whole, but the feeling it left behind lingers still in the pit of your abdomen.

You don't understand it. You've been having this dream almost every night for the past week, aside from the nights where you got too little sleep to remember your dreams. Ever since that night when Taehyung and Jimin dragged you to their packhouse, each night has greeted you with the same dream of two wolves in some meadow and you don't know why. Were they that impressionable? Were you so wowed by the sight of the wolves racing that you committed it to your memory subconsciously? Maybe… it’s a possible reason, but it doesn't feel like the reason.

It started as something small, but as the week progressed there was something, a feeling, a sensation, that grew inside you until it stirred restlessly beneath your skin, like now. You're not sure what it is. You feel like you need to be on the move, like there's somewhere you need to be, or you're forgetting something. But you've checked, and you haven't forgotten something, there's nowhere else you're meant to be. So this feeling stirring around your navel... you don't know what to do about it.

Then again, you ponder as you approach the building that holds your next class, perhaps it's just the weird feeling the dreams have been leaving you with that has been making you feel so odd and on edge.

When you enter, your attention is surprisingly not immediately captured by two particular loud men as it usually is the second you step foot in the room. Thanks to their annoyingly sharp senses, the two of them can usually smell you coming before you even reach the door. Admittedly, you're not sure if you're ever going to get used to being told that you have a smell, even if it's not in the usual insulting way. Something you're just going to have to get used to, though, considering you attend a university alongside many supernaturals, two of which are some of your closest friends.

Despite the fact that you weren't accosted upon entry this time, unlike how you usually are, the two boys you begrudgingly call friends are here, seated towards the back of the room. You wonder what stopped them from performing their usual ritual of behaviour as you approach them, but the answer comes to you when you see the light frowns on their faces and the slight bags under their eyes.

"Woah," you remark, taking a seat at the rounded table next to Jimin-- they start slightly at your appearance, ringing some alarm bells in the back of your mind. "You two look like shit. Are you okay?"

Taehyung makes a face, and Jimin gives you a smile that comes out more like a wince.

"We're fine," he says, reaching up to scrub his face with a hand. "Just... a little tired."

You tilt you head, wondering if they're going to tell you why of their own accord or if you're going to have to dig and drag it out of them. Taehyung must recognise the look on your face, because he's letting out a little huff of a laugh and enlightening you in the next moment.

"It's just... some of the members of our pack," he says, yawning. Your mouth falls open in realisation; ah, so it's a wolf thing. You're even more curious now, though. You love learning more about the creatures that walk among the population— plus, they're your friends so you feel like you should learn as much as you can about them.

"Are they causing trouble?" you ask, remembering the events of the other night with an odd shiver that isn't quite anything you can name.

Both males let out a laugh, quietening only as the tutor enters the room and lets out a greeting. Today's class isn't too interactive though, and for the majority of it you're left to your own devices to complete work at your own pace. As soon as the tutor is done telling you all the agenda, Jimin is speaking quietly from next to you.

"It's not that they're causing trouble," he says, tone soft and airy. You like his voice a lot, Taehyung's too— actually, from what you can remember, every single member of the pack had a nice voice. Is it a werewolf requirement or something? Jimin's dark eyes flit from the teacher to you, mouth twisting as though he's trying to figure out how to word what he wants to say next. "It's just that..."

"You know a little bit about wolves, and the hierarchy that runs in packs, right?" Taehyung continues in Jimin's place, blinking at you. You nod, holding your hand up to gesture that your knowledge is so-so at best. "Well, within a pack there are the usual ones you've probably heard-- the alpha, the betas, omegas."

"Ah, yeah, I've heard about that," you say, unable to help the way you lean forward in interest. Taehyung smiles wryly.

"Well, there's a little more to it than that. In our pack, Jiminie and I are deltas," he hums gaze flicking upwards as he ponders how to proceed. "So our role, when we fall back into our dynamics, is largely watching territory, but it also includes taking care of ill and wounded members of the pack."

"Two of the members are sick," Jimin says, turning to you a split second later. "The two that bowled you over, actually."

"Oh," you say, recalling the handsome faces of the two wolves that had inadvertently caused your drink to end up on you and you on the ground that night. "So, they're sick and you've been looking after them? So you're tired? They should be okay though, right? I mean, you're wolves. You bounce back quickly."

The two males share a look before turning back to you, voices still hushed so that you don't draw your tutor over to where the three of you are, most definitely not doing the work assigned.

"That's just the thing, though," Jimin says, a troubled expression crossing his features. "We're wolves, we don't really get sick. The only kind of sickness that gets us is a flu that has mutated from another supernatural creature, but even so... they should have been better by now."

"It's like they just keep slowly getting worse," Taehyung says, frowning. "Jiminie and I are running ourselves into the ground trying to keep up and monitor them. We just can't figure out what's wrong to get on top of it."

"Oh," you say, an unknown feeling welling up inside you. It's something like longing, with a certain twist of urgency. You don't know what drives you to say what you did next. "Well, uh... is there anything I can do to help? You guys look exhausted."

"You wouldn't mind?" Jimin asks, sounding surprised. "Even after the other night? I know it must have been scary."

"Well, I mean, a little bit," you admit, scratching the back of your neck. "But it was also cool as hell. Your wolf forms are so awesome, I kind of wish I got to see it sooner."

"You haven't even seen ours!" Taehyung says, a little louder than intended. When the three of you look up to catch the tutor giving you the stink-eye, you bow your heads and remain silent for a while to get him off your backs.

"For real though," Jimin says a while later, hand still scribbling answers to the activity even as he talks softly. "If you're serious about wanting to help, we'd really appreciate it. The others are all caught up with either schoolwork or other obligations so it's been a little exhausting."

"I don't mind," you say, offering the two a brief smile before going back to pretending to work. "I'm happy to help. Plus... I feel a little bad that I didn't get introduced to them properly, you know?"

Taehyung snorts softly, grinning down at the table. "Yeah, that's true. Thanks, y/n."

You offer him another smile, hoping that they can't sense the way your gut flutters and churns with an unnamed feeling. "Of course."

x - x - x

When you offered to give Taehyung and Jimin a hand with looking after their sick packmates, you were expecting to be making soup or something for them to take over. You weren’t, as it happens, expecting for the two of them to rock up at 6PM while you’re in the middle of a belated cardio workout (which was only happening because you have schoolwork that you were procrastinating at the time) to grab you and drag you back over to their pack dorm to actually, physically help out.

“Why is it every time I come here, I’m always being dragged?” you question, hints of a whine to your voice. They hadn’t even let you change! You’re still in your workout gear, which, granted, consists of just a singlet and tight, ankle-length exercise pants, and isn’t that risqué—but still! The weather is getting colder these days and so are you, right now! If it weren’t for the absolute furnace that is their body temperature and the heat of their hands on your arms, you think you’d be shivering.

“You’ve only been here twice, and this is the second time,” Jimin says dismissively, hand gripping your arm as he leads you up the stairs to their front door. You have a funny feeling in your gut that you can’t quite pin, similar to the last time you were here, but now you don’t even have time to dwell on it before you’re thrown into the pack dorm once more.

It’s much tidier than it was last time.

You’re taken aback by how clean and, well…spacious it is, now that there’s not drunk adolescent bodies crammed everywhere. It’s a very modern layout, as you noticed last time, and tastefully decorated. From what Jimin and Taehyung told you, most of the bedrooms are upstairs and the lowest floor contains most amenities like the kitchen, gym room, etcetera…

The door closes with a resounding thud behind you, and there is a call from beyond the hallway, where you recall the kitchen to be. You don’t think you recognise the voice, though.

“Tae, Jiminie, you’re back!” There is a pause, and something that sounds suspiciously like a sniff. Suddenly, you’re mortified to be the only human here again. “…Who do you have with you?”

Before you’re anywhere near composed enough to be meeting another member of their pack, the two devious bastards are pushing you forwards and around the corner, into the kitchen once more. You have a very sudden, terrible flashback to the last time you were in this kitchen and on instinct you’re scanning the room for a familiar raven-haired male.

To your relief, Yoongi isn’t anywhere to be seen—there is someone at the kitchen counter though, someone that you don’t recognise at all. You freeze, offering a sheepish grin as the two wolves you somehow call your friends hold you in place. Like you could even attempt to get away anyway.

The new figure is taller than Jimin, but not taller than Taehyung. His hair is dark, cherry red, but you can spy some regrowth coming through at the roots, and before you even see the rest of his face you can tell from his eyes and the creases at their ends that this man smiles a lot. You’re proven right when he easily returns the smile you’d flashed him earlier, shooting it at you like a sunbeam. It almost, honest to god, disorients you where you stand.

“Hey Hobi,” Taehyung greets, grinning brightly. “This is y/n, we brought her around at the last party but you were, ah… previously occupied.”

The man before you has the decency to flush slightly, a sheepish grin tugging his lips. You’ve never seen a heart-shaped smile before now, but you’re glad this attractive man was the first one to show you the light.

“Ah… right.” He chuckles, before placing the bowl in his arms onto the counter and offering you a hand. “Sorry to have missed introductions, especially when Tae and Jiminie talk so much about you! I’m Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi, or Hope if you’d like.”

Hope. It clicks together in your head and your own face flushes as you recall last time when they said he, Hope, was off practicing the karma sutra with someone. Mortified that you recalled that tidbit now of all times, you push it from your brain and try to focus on the other things he said.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say, shaking his hand. You can’t help the way you grumble after though, giving Jimin and Taehyung a glare. “And I hope they haven’t talked too much. Every time I’ve heard them tell one of you about me, it’s always something humiliating.”

“Oh, like being caught watching Ouran Host Club in your lecture?” Hoseok asks, head tilting slightly as he picks the bowl back up. You wince instinctively, and he laughs. It doesn’t get any less humiliating every time you hear it.

“Yup,” you say, feeling very much like you wished you hadn’t agreed to help at all. “Something like that.”

He smiles, but thankfully doesn’t tease you further. Instead, he turns his attention to the two boys beside you.

“What did you bring her for?” he asks, curiosity the only thing you can identify in his tone. Jimin wastes no time in sealing your fate.

“She offered to help when we told her Kookie and Jin were sick!” he says, smacking your shoulder like a proud parent. It was almost a little too hard, and you cough slightly from the impact. Taehyung rubs a soothing hand over the place of impact, giving his brother a look. “So we brought her over, since the others can’t stay and you’re the only one that can run classes at the studio right now.”

Hoseok’s mouth forms an ‘o’, dark eyes flicking to you in surprise. “Oh, that’s very kind of you,” he remarks, flashing you another billion-watt smile. “Thank you, for that. We’re not usually this hopeless at caring for ourselves but one of the ones that’s sick is the one that usually cares for us so… we’ve kind of been running around like headless chickens, heh.”

You shrug, finally feeling a little more settled and a little less like you’d like to flee at the first available opportunity. You’re still very keenly aware of the fact that this is only the second—and first, in Hoseok’s case—time meeting these people, and it’s therefore a little awkward for you. But, to their credit, the way they’re just taking it in stride is really helping you feel less out of place.

Even though technically you hadn’t even planned on coming anywhere near here….

“It’s no problem,” you say, unsure how else to receive his words. He’s still smiling, though, so you’re guessing that he wouldn’t have been too bothered however you answered.

“How are they?” Taehyung asks, soft baritone brushing the air. There’s palpable concern in his voice, and when you glance his way his expression confirms it.

“Well,” Hoseok says, placing the bowl down on the counter again, except with a little more oomph this time. You’re beginning to grow curious as to what exactly is in there. “They’re not any better, but they’re not exactly any worse, either, so… I’m not sure how to answer. Although—”

He smacks his hand onto the counter, a wooden clatter following from the spoon in his grasp, and your eyes widen at the light gashes on the back of his hand. They’re open but not bleeding, as though they’re in the midst of healing, but they look like they were deep at some point. “—Jin has been getting a bit of an attitude, so it’s probably for the best that you brought her. The two of you are going to have to deal with him; she can deal with Kookie, if she needs to. He’s just been sulky.”

“Jin got an attitude?!” Jimin sounds incredulous, and you figure that whichever one is Jin mustn’t normally kick up much of a fuss if he’s reacting like that to the information. “What, why? Did one of you step on his paw again?”

For a moment, you think it’s just a figure of speech, like a wolf thing, but then Hoseok huffs and grumbles, rolling his eyes. “No! That was only once! No one went near his stupid paws this time. He’s been shifted ever since he started feeling sick but he’s only just started getting snappy. He’s a little testy right now… it’s why I was down here, making him stupid treats because he can’t eat human desserts in this form.”

Wait, so both of them… are wolves right now? You’re suddenly a little nervous, but do your best not to show it—somehow, despite the fact their senses are so much more advanced than yours and usually you’d be instantly found out, they’re a little too distracted with the issue currently on their hands to notice.

As though he can hear the slander being thrown around on the floors below him, there is a sudden long, muffled howl that pierces the air—the sound is weaker than you’d expect but still startles you, making you jump. As it ends, it’s followed by a thump and a series of thunks and rattles, like something had been knocked off a shelf. Hoseok rolls his eyes, and you put the pieces together and realise that must have been the wolf in question.

Jimin is wincing, reaching to take the bowl and spoon into his hands. “Uh, okay—we’ll keep an eye on him, and I’ll finish making his, uh… his scooby snacks. You can get going, I know you have a class ready to start in, like, ten minutes.”

Hoseok shoots his packmate a thankful look, more being said with his eyes than you’re privy to as a complete stranger. Now he’s relieved of his duties for the night,

“Thank you,” he says, passing Jimin the whisk that lay discarded at the other end of the bench. You then watch as he moves around the counter to grab what you quickly realise is a gym bag from its perch on the table. You half expect him to wave and then be on his way, but he halts partway towards the door, something on the tip of his tongue.

“If they don’t get better…” he trails off, brows furrowed. It’s in this moment that it really sinks in for you that their packmates must be quite sick for them to be so concerned, and you feel bad that you regretted being dragged here earlier. Jimin and Taehyung are your friends and they need help caring for their pack, their family. You feel crummy for opposing it even a little bit.

Hoseok shakes his head, brows furrowing further. “No, even if they do start to get better—I think we should call the Head Healer. This isn’t normal, and whether its some supernatural flu or something else I think they should know. I’ll tell Yoongi to call his dad, but be prepared to tell him in case he forgets.”

The two males beside you nod, Jimin’s orange locks bouncing from the fervour with which he did so.

“Will do,” Taehyung affirms, nodding towards the redhead. “We’ll take care of them in the meantime.”

Hoseok nods, expression lightening for a fraction of a second. His gaze is soon flitting back to you, a smile that makes your heart skip a beat on his lips. “It was a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he declares politely, even if the gleam in his eye is anything but. It takes all of your willpower to keep a straight face. “I’d love to get to know you a little more sometime—”

“YAH get out of here you slimy—” Jimin is huffing suddenly, red-faced and outraged, waving his arms before darting forward to chase his packmate out. “Don’t speak to her like that! She’s off-limits! Do not put your dirty whore hands anywhere near—”

The two of them disappear around the corner, but the sound of Hoseok’s cackling and Jimin’s indignant yells reach you loud and clear anyway. As Jimin sees his packmate off at the door, Taehyung picks up the bowl and resumes where Hoseok left off, and you’re left wondering just how this night is going to go with two massive wolves upstairs needing to be cared for.

x – x

“Okay, so… here’s the plan.”

You listen attentively, fidgeting on the spot and wishing not for the first time that these two idiots had let you change before dragging you here to help out. The sweat has made your head itchy, and you’re trying so hard not to scratch it that you feel your hands trembling. Thankfully, the two wolves beside you remain none the wiser to your inner turmoil and the occasional stink-eye you throw their way.

“Me and Jiminie are gonna go deal with Jin-hyung,” Taehyung says, pausing as a loud thump echoes from the floor above. The three of you are standing at the foot of the stairs, and had been about to go up before the taller man halted you all to make a game-plan. “It… seems like it’s gonna be a two person job. I don’t know what his problem is…?”

He looks to the side to Jimin as he trails off, but his friend merely shrugs, no closer to knowing the source of his packmate’s behaviour than he is. Taehyung huffs, turning to you. “And you can handle Kookie. Just take his food up for him, apparently he’s just been sulky and he’s not aggressive in wolf or human form so you shouldn’t have anything to be worried about.”

You nod as he hands you a bowl of cooked and seasoned meat that makes even your mouth water from the aroma wafting with steam into the air. “Great. That really comforts me, thank you.”

Taehyung grins and Jimin rolls his eyes. “If he allows it, could you check his temperature when you go up there? I know we usually run hot, but we’ve noticed that with whatever sickness this is their temperatures fluctuate a lot. It’ll be really helpful if you can just tell us whether he’s warm or cold.”

You nod again, Jimin appearing satisfied with his instruction. Taehyung throws his hand in the air, almost dislodging the bowl in his hold as he does so. “Alright! Autobots, roll out!”

You simply turn to go up the stairs first, already hearing Jimin deliver his packmate with a firm whack for being an idiot. You reach the top of the stairs and pause, eyes sweeping across the hallway and the abundance of closed doors with little or no distinguishing characteristics. Well, shit.

“Last door on the right, y/n!”

Perfect. Off you go.

As you approach the end of the hallway, another door opposite the one you’re heading towards, the feeling that has been sitting dormant in your abdomen suddenly stirs to life. The tugging around your navel is more persistent than ever, leaving you confused and a little disoriented as you finally reach the last door on the right. To your surprise, there is a shuffling sound from the door opposite, on the left side of the hall, and a low, baleful whine that reaches you through the wood and makes your heart drop and clench. You don’t think you’ve ever reacted so strongly to, well, anything before.

Shaking your head and hearing the other two follow behind you in the hall, you grasp the doorknob of the door you’ve been directed to and ease it open, slipping inside as quietly as possible before closing it behind you. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself and attempt to smother the quickened pace of your heart before it’s beating gets too loud, you slowly look up from the door handle and survey the rest of the room.

It’s chic, a stylish combination of white and various cool greys across the room. The window is open but the dark curtains drawn, the breeze ruffling them ever so slightly and making you shiver as it reaches you from across the room. It’s nice, you admit to yourself, momentarily forgetting why you’re there. You’re quickly reminded once more, however, at the sight of the massive furry lump sprawled across the queen-sized bed. The main overhead light isn’t on, but the bedside lamps are and it’s enough to illuminate the wolf left in your care for the time being. There’s something about him that tickles familiarity in the back of your mind as you survey his form; his coat is a sleek mixture of ink and charcoal, fur illuminated dark chestnut where it falls beneath the light. You can’t quite put your finger on why you feel something stir inside you at the sight of him, this massive wolf sprawled across the bed, and for the time being you decide to give up on attempting to understand it.

Adjusting your hold on the bowl in your hands, you move closer to the bed, unable to help the way you keep admiring this wolf’s majestic form even as he faces away from you. You know this one is the member called Jungkook, but you can’t quite put a human face to the name to recall which wolf it was that bowled you over a week ago. 

Initially, you thought that he might have been asleep, but as you grow closer to the bed you hear the softest whimper enter the air, followed by a thin whine. You freeze, looking up just in time to see a large, heavy-lidded, amber eye watching you move. Distantly, you realise that this is the sort of sight that should be making you freeze in fear. Instead, the only thing you feel is something odd and foreign, curling warmly in the pit of your abdomen. You’re not sure what to do with it, and to be honest it gives you pause. 

“Uh, hey,” you say softly, feeling a little awkward. The wolf gives a huff, blinking his large eye somewhat owlishly—while he didn’t seem to really see you earlier, he appears to be registering your appearance now. “We’ve met before… I’m Taehyung and Jimin’s friend. They said that you guys were sick so I offered to help out…”

The wolf shuffles in place, looking a little more alert. Thankfully, as Taehyung had promised, he doesn’t seem aggressive or anything like that. Actually, he seems about the opposite—as he rises to a slightly more elevated position on the bed, now facing you, he lets out another long, low whine. It makes your insides clench with something like sympathy. You place the bowl where he can reach it and immediately the wolf starts devouring his meal.

There is a sudden yowl that pierces through the walls and makes you jump, but the wolf before you couldn’t be more unbothered. In the blink of an eye the bowl is emptied and licked clean, the wolf’s massive head lifting to pin you with a look that seems to say ‘what next?’. You move the bowl so it isn’t tipped, placing it on the bedside table next to a black Nintendo Switch console there. Before you can flounder too much, you recall Jimin’s instructions from earlier.

“Oh, I need to check your temperature, as well…” you inform him, still speaking softly. There is a bit of a commotion from beyond the bedroom door and you think you hear Taehyung holler something stupid, but can’t be sure. You decide to ignore it.

Tentatively, you reach your hand up, simply going for the wolf’s forehead or the closest thing to it. To your surprise, despite the minute nod that the wolf had offered you just before, now he seems to be moving his head just out of reach every time you come close. There’s a peculiar gleam in his big puppy eyes that you can’t quite decipher, almost something sly as you continue attempting to place the back of your hand against his head. His relentless shifting ends up with you leaning over the bed to reach him, and you realise a little too late just how unstable you are. Finally, he allows you to place your hand against his head, but it lasts for barely a second before the bed is shifting suddenly and then you’re falling onto the mattress with an ‘oof!’.

The wolf huffs, a massive arm laying over your hips and his head flopped down on your chest just below your breasts. You can feel your face heat in a combination of embarrassment, confusion, and fluster. For a moment, you’re too stunned to even move.

“What are you—” you can’t even finish a full sentence, you’re so flustered. “I only need to take your temperature! Let me up, please—”

You attempt to move, or even prop yourself on your elbows, and the wolf whimpers, pitifully, more of his weight bearing down on you. You pause before trying again and receiving the same reaction, this time with a mournful whine tacked onto the end.

“You’re a big baby,” you find yourself saying, tone much closer to exasperated scolding than you might have expected. “Are you really not gonna let me up?”

In response, you receive a huff and an adjustment of the wolf’s hold on you that makes it even more difficult for you to get up from the bed, his massive paw pressing into the mattress on the other side of you. When you let out a heavy sigh, he whimpers and butts his head against you, the action oddly affectionate.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, staring at the ceiling and wondering what on earth has just happened in the past few minutes. Since you can do nothing else, you take the opportunity to finally touch his forehead and take his temperature. He’s a little cool, but oddly doesn’t stay that way; it’s like you can feel him warming beneath your hand.

Really, you’re pretty much trapped right now. You’re not as scared as one might think you would be, and you don’t really know what you’re feeling in response to the situation. You do know that something flips and flutters inside you every time you move and you hear him whimper, or whine and snuggle closer. This wolf is almost the size of a bear and is snuggling all over you like a teacup puppy.

You’re not sure how long you lay in spot before your two idiot friends finally realise you’ve been gone a little too long for the menial tasks you were given and come knocking. The creak of the door easing open makes you jump slightly in surprise and the hackles on the wolf to raise ever so slightly.

“y/n, what is taking you so l—oh. Oh my gosh.”

Your head whips in the direction of the door, and a pleading look is already on your face before you can even think to muster it. Taehyung and Jimin stand stock still in the doorway, faces portraying an almost comical amount of shock. Jimin squints, rubbing his eyes as though he’s making sure he’s really seeing what he’s seeing. “Uh… what happened here?”

“He won’t let me up,” you grumble, face on fire. This is humiliating. The wolf huffs, like he’s talking back to you, and both Taehyung and Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s sneaky. I just tried to take his temperature and….”

“Oh, right,” Jimin says, blinking rapidly. “How is it?”

“A little cold, but each time I check he gets warmer,” you inform him, the distant hilarity of the situation not lost on you as you calmly discuss the health and wellbeing of the wolf that currently has you pinned to his bed as a makeshift teddy bear. Jimin goes to take a step forward and a soft growl halts him mid-movement, the sound something you can feel rumbling from deep within the wolf’s chest.

“Jungkookie,” he scolds, gasping in affront. “Don’t be nasty.”

“Oh my god,” Taehyung mumbles to himself, something cheeky and mischievous that spells absolute trouble glimmering in his eyes. “This is fantastic—just wait until you’re human again, Koo. You’re not gonna live this down.”

Unimpressed, you send them a glare—some of your limbs are starting to fall asleep, maybe they could try and help you get out? Catching the look you send them, the two men share their own, and you can safely say you don’t quite like the tone of it.

They better not leave you here.

x – x – x

The next day finds you sprawled on your bed, feeling dead to the world.

True to their historically goblin nature, your two best friends had indeed left you there.

You’d found out later that it was because they knew they’d only be able to slip you out from under the wolf when he fell asleep (because apparently once he’s out, he sleeps like the dead, no matter the form). But until such a time as they actually came and retrieved you from beneath their sick, clingy packmate, you were incredibly annoyed with them. It had taken about an hour or so for the wolf, Jungkook, to fall asleep—about halfway through that you’d subconsciously keyed into the same plan as them and had begun carding your hands through his fur in an attempt to lull him to sleep faster. It had worked, and you don’t want to think about how dead your limbs would be if the wolf had taken any longer to fall asleep.

In all, the ordeal was incredibly embarrassing and your only saving grace is that Taehyung and Jimin were too busy planning how to tease their youngest packmate to tease you. Which is lucky because, wolf or not, if they’d teased you then you might have killed them.

You didn’t get back until around midnight, since you’d stayed a bit longer to help Taehyung and Jimin cook and prepare some stuff in case the two wolves woke up worse. As soon as your head hat hit the pillow, you’d knocked right out. Shamefully, you slept so deep and long that you missed your alarm for your morning class and woke up closer to lunch, which is where you are now.

Laying in bed with aching eyes and wishing that you didn’t have another class in another two hours.

Jihyo hadn’t even questioned where you went for so long last night, but also hadn’t made a joke about you finally getting some so you figure she’s waiting to pounce on you later. You find she’s already left for the day, when you finally wrangle yourself from bed and attempt to resume life as a functioning human being. So you’re safe until at least this afternoon, when she finishes her shift at the university second-hand bookstore. You can probably remain safe for longer if you study at the library and come home when she goes to her pilates class.

You’re shamefully good at evading her, at this point. You’d feel bad if it wasn’t a skill you’d learnt for survival.

You took your time a little too much while getting ready for your class, and it made you run so late that for the time being even you completely forgot about the events of last night. Well, you did until you enter your classroom and are greeted by two loud hollers of your name. Honestly, do they have no shame? Do attractive people even feel shame?

“Shut up,” you grumble half-heartedly as you take your seat between them, resisting the urge to rub your eyes since you’d put on mascara earlier. One of many things that had almost made you late. “You’re so loud.”

You complain, but secretly you’re glad for the noise—it means they’re feeling better, and things must also be improving at the pack dorm. When you finally raise your eyes to survey their faces, you find them displaying an odd mix of emotions. Like they’re glad, relieved, but at the same time still concerned about something.

“So… how are things at the dorm?” you inquire tentatively, making the most of the time you have before your tutor arrives and begins the class; it seems you aren’t the only one running behind today.

Taehyung lets out a huff, resting his cheek in his hand with a wry smile. “Well, Jungkookie is much better. You must have a magic touch because he was up and back into his human form this morning. He wanted to go to his classes but Namjoon made him stay back because he’s still not completely better.”

“On the other hand,” Jimin continues, without the need of prompting. “Seokjin… well, it’s almost like he’s the same as before, slowly getting worse. We can’t figure out what is wrong with him and why his condition isn’t turning around like Jungkook’s is.”

Ah, now you understand their expressions. They look about as confused as you feel, too. It doesn’t leave you with a very good feeling, if they’re the experts in this area and even they’re stumped for an explanation.

“We got Yoongi to call his dad, though. I heard them on the phone before we left so I suppose we’ll hear what he recommends when we get back.”

You hum to acknowledge what he said, opening your mouth to respond but deciding against it when you see the tutor hurtle into the room, out of breath and frantic.

“Sorry I’m late, everyone! If you could please all open your books to this week’s chapter, I will begin with the slides in just a moment!”

x – x – x

Considering that what you’d heard from your two wolf friends was that one of their packmates was on the mend and the other less so, you hadn’t really expected to hear anything else from them. That proves to be the exact opposite of what happens, though.

At quarter to three in the morning, you’re woken to sharp, persistent banging on your front door—the kind that makes you scared that the door is actually going to break beneath the force of the blows raining down on it. You tear out of your bed and stumble down the hall to answer it, knowing that if Jihyo has to get up to do it she’s going to tear you a new asshole.

“WHAT?!” You snap, not even seeing properly through the bleariness in your eyes but knowing in your heart there’s only two people ballsy enough to come bust your door down at this hour in the morning. “Are you trying to get me killed?! Jihyo still hasn’t forgotten about the last time you came over and ruined her sleep!”

Jimin has the decency to look somewhat sheepish, but Taehyung simply looks distressed. “Look, I’m not gonna say I’m sorry because I’m not, but we really need you to come with us right now.”

You blink, reaching to rub your eyes and feeling a strand of your hair flop into your face in response. You just know it looks like something made at the hands of Jackson Pollock right now. “What? The hell? Do you mean?”

It’s Jimin’s airy tone that reaches you this time, lowering your hackles ever so slightly. “No, he’s lying, we are sorry, it’s just—it’s an emergency. Something happened and we need your help to test a… a theory, if you will.”

You stare at him, willing his words to make sense in your sleepy brain. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s fine,” Taehyung says; and then in the next second he reaches and grabs you around the waist, slinging you over his shoulder. “We just need you to come. Can you lock up so she doesn’t kill us, Jiminie?”

You’re too stunned to even say anything as you hear Jimin lock your front door behind you, Taehyung already beginning to move post-haste down the apartment building hallway with you over his shoulder. When you finally catch-up to the events of the current moment, you instantly curse the blonde man out. “Hey, what the fuck—I can walk! Put me down! Put me down or I’ll go straight back home!”

“No way,” Taehyung argues, already exiting the building with you in tow. “You’re just gonna go back no matter what, if I put you down. I saw that look in your eyes, the one you get when you’re about to slam the door in our faces. We really need you to come, y/n.”

You blink, trying to remember if you planned on closing the door in their faces. It was only a few moments ago, but you’re still half-asleep and can’t remember for the life of you. A part of you wishes to speak up and deny his words, but for however outraged you are right now you’re still attuned to the words he’s saying and the vocal cues that accompany his speech. It gives you pause, because he seems really, genuinely distressed right now.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

Jimin has since caught up to the two of you and is opening the car door, preparing the back seat for your entry—you haven’t seen this one before, so you presume it must belong to one of the older pack members. “It’s Jin-hyung and Kookie.”

“What?” Confusion combines with sleepiness to make you sound like the stupidest person on earth. “I thought they were getting better? Or at least Jungkook was—”

“We thought so too,” Taehyung says, finally putting you down and patting your head in a makeshift apology. You decide that killing him can wait for later.

“And then… tonight happened.”

As the two of them climb hurriedly into the car and buckle up to send you all on your way to the pack dorm, they fill you in on the events of the evening. While Jungkook had shown a marked improvement over the day, it was like a switch had flipped as soon as night fell and the moon emerged from below the horizon. He relapsed to a worse state than he was in last night, and Seokjin’s condition apparently worsened as well. Alarmed and not having a single idea what to do, they’d called in Yoongi’s father who had spent a large majority of the night attempting to diagnose them and prevent their condition from worsening. Only around half an hour ago had he put together a theory as to what was wrong with them, after all the pack members filled him in on everything they could.

“Wait so—Yoongi’s dad? The healer…?” you wait for their nods of confirmation before continuing. “He thinks it has something to do with me? Wait, if that’s the case should you even be bringing me back?! What if I make them worse again! God, I knew I shouldn’t have rocked up to the party last week…”

“No, well—I mean—” Jimin flounders for what to say, cutting himself off when he comes close to saying something and giving you the sense that there is another element to this that they’re not telling you. You have half a mind to demand to know, but you also recognise it could also be a wolf thing that you have no business knowing. “Don’t worry, if the head healer of our pack is calling you back, it’s not because he thinks you’re the thing making them sick.”

That does ease you, admittedly. Just a bit. You yawn, catching movement outside your window and realising with a startle that you’re already at the pack dorm. Instantly, for reasons barely known to you, your stomach erupts into a live bundle of nerves. You’re so baffled by it that you don’t even notice as the car pulls to a stop and your door is being opened in the next second by a perplexed Jimin.

“Are you alright?”

You give him a stinky look to save face as you climb out of the car, pretending your legs aren’t wobbly. “You’re asking that now?”

At the attitude in your voice the expression of concern slips right off his face and he snorts, looping his arm through yours and dragging you up the path to the pack dorm for the third time in a week. “Oh good, you’re alright. Hurry up now, I can hear them howling like pups from here.”

You go to bite back with a response but pause, because the second you tune into your ears you can hear it too. It’s mournful, the way the howls pierce the air. Baleful, especially when paired with the scenery of the almost-full moon hanging above the trees. Again, you’re not scared, just oddly… nervous. As in, full of nerves. It’s as though there are a thousand bees buzzing in your abdomen, and the network of nerves and synapses in your body have turned to live wires beneath your skin, thrumming and prickling with energy.

What does your subconscious seem to know that you don’t?

The howls are amplified the second you enter the house and there is no longer several inches of thick wall muffling their piercing resonance. They seem to be upstairs once more, on the side of the house that you didn’t venture into last time. Now that you’re close enough, you can distinguish that it’s not only pitiful howls breaking the air, but soft whimpers and whines, as well. Something about it, the quality of the sounds brushing your ears, makes your eyes prick with tears. It’s almost like…. Grieving. Like they’re calling out for something or someone that isn’t coming.

“Wow, they’re somehow even louder than when we left,” Jimin remarks, already dragging you towards the stairs and beginning on the climb up. “For wolves that are so sick they sure do still have a pair of lungs on them.”

You’re too busy remembering the fact that you’re currently dressed in the same shorts and singlet combo you’ve been in all week, and that you’re in a house full of men (and wolves, but you digress) to offer a response. Your arrival at the top of the stairs brings you to the sight of a number of men at the end of the hall, gathered together and muttering amongst themselves. You recognise all but one, and figure that the unfamiliar older gentleman must be Yoongi’s father as you’d heard of him.

“We brought her,” Jimin announces, though you doubt it was very necessary since they could probably smell you coming from the driveway. “Are they doing any better?”

Yoongi leans around Namjoon to deliver the younger with a deadpan look. “Listen for yourself.”

Right on cue, there is another round of pitiful howling, the noise tugging at something deep inside you. Why did it make you want to go to them? Are your instincts broken? That seems like a crazy reaction to have. Perhaps you should go get yourself checked out after this ordeal, though you’re unsure which professional you should be seeking out.

Jimin winces. “Alright. So they’re not doing much better at all.”

The new character, Yoongi’s dad, steps forward and reaches out to shake your hand. “Hello, you must be y/n. I’m Yunho, the Head Healer of this pack. I’m so sorry to have brought you out here at such a late hour.”

Now that everyone’s attention is on you, and Yunho looks so genuinely apologetic (you see the relation to Yoongi in the kind set of his features) you find your earlier anger at being awoken and dragged here fizzling out for good. Somewhat meekly, you manage to respond, “It’s fine. If I can help then I don’t mind at all.”

The older man smiles at your words, appreciation in his tone as he thanks you. “We’re really grateful, for that. Now, if you don’t mind, all I want you to do is just… go into the room with them.”

You blink, Taehyung and Jimin already having begun guiding (read: dragging) you to the room in question. “Pardon?”

Yunho seems slightly amused and sheepish. “I… have a theory, as to what is wrong with these two. I will inform you of everything after we test it out, but would you be able to go in, for now? Please?”

You’re not exactly in a position to refuse, not that you really want to anyway. As silly as it is, if going into the room where the wolves are is something that will somehow actually help them, then you’ll do it. Especially because you don’t think you can handle much more of their baleful howling—they seem miserable.

“Yeah, okay. Of course.” You shake your limbs out, shrugging your arms out of your friends’ grips and shooting them a glare for manhandling your again. They have the decency to appear slighty apologetic.

The entire pack in the hallway parts to let you through, like a sea of wolves. The room they direct you to is the one opposite of the one you went into last night, the one where the rowdy wolf that Jimin and Taehyung took care of had been. Taking a deep breath, you push the slightly ajar door open, biting your lip in anticipation of what you will see on the other side.

It’s a room similar in shape to Jungkook’s, but with blues and yellows mixed into the scheme of whites and greys. It is, put simply and as objectively as possible, a mess. You can see where things have been knocked off of shelves and desks, and some items (namely one of the bed posts) have been chewed up and left disfigured. It looks like a house with remnants of a temper tantrum from a puppy left alone too soon. They aren’t on the bed, which is oddly bare, and you see why a moment later when you catch sight of them huddled together on the floor, the size of small bears but shaking and whimpering so pathetically that you don’t feel even a shred of fear as you gaze upon them. A rumpled mixture of fluffy blankets and duvets are beneath them in a makeshift nest, some of them still attached to the bed and tucked underneath the end of the mattress.

You’re not sure what you expected when you stepped into the room, but it wasn’t for the two wolves to fall dead silent upon your arrival. You freeze, unsure how to proceed until there is a nudge at your back, and you turn over your shoulder to see Yunho giving you an encouraging look.

“Just go over to them, it will be okay. They won’t hurt you.”

You didn’t realise that was a fear you had until his words soothed it, and you take another deep breath to steel yourself before following his directions. You can’t tell whether the wolves are awake, or in that feverish place between sleep and waking, but the closer you get the less restless they seem and the less noises tumble from their jaws. Unsure what they want you to do when you reach the wolves, you turn back with a questioning look. Already, at the silence in the room, Yunho has a relieved look on his face. He makes a hand movement, gesturing for you to take a seat, and you see several heads pop around the doorframe to watch as you do so.

Blushing madly and pretending that you’re not as embarrassed as you are, you sink to your knees in front of the two wolves, eyes scanning over the one you hadn’t seen before today.

Seokjin, if you recall correctly; the eldest in the pack (well… this little subgroup of the larger pack, anyway), and the other wolf that bowled you over that day. A sense of familiarity washes over you as you view him, too, despite the fact you don’t think you’ve ever seen him in his wolf form before. His coat is sandy and light, caramel-hued in some places with accents of white around his eyes and front paws. Again, you can’t quite place where you’ve seen him before, but you know deep down that you have. The same goes for Jungkook, who appears extra dark next to his lighter packmate. Each of their heads is larger, broader than one of your thighs, something you become acutely aware of as you shuffle closer on your knees. Two barely-seeing sets of amber eyes watch your every movement.

Just when you go to look back and see what they want you to do next, there is shuffling from in front of you that captures your attention instead; a whimper escapes Jungkook, but Seokjin is the one that is moving, lifting his head and craning it forward until his moist nose skims your knee, sniffing tentatively. Whatever you smell like must confirm something for him, because in the next moment he’s letting out a low whine from the back of his throat and struggling forward, butting his head against you before rubbing the side of it along your thigh. You don’t have words to describe how hot your face is right now. Just when you think it can’t get any more embarrassing, the darker wolf gains a sudden burst of energy and lurches forward, snapping his teeth around the edge of your shorts leg and tugging lightly.

“Wh—” you don’t even have the brain space to finish whatever you were going to say, too busy shuffling forward and trying to make sure this wolf doesn’t pants you in front of the rest of the pack who are—as you confirm with an alarmed look over your shoulder—still watching everything unfold. The wolf, Jungkook, doesn’t stop tugging until you’re nestled deep between their two bodies, their temperatures rising each second you spend there, and as soon as he releases his teeth from the material of your shorts, Seokjin’s body is tilting and his head is coming to press against you and trap you in.

This is ridiculous. Is this actually happening? Are you not still at home, dreaming?

Your alarmed look is directed at the rest of the pack mates and Yunho once more, the older man letting out a sigh and wincing lightly. The rest of the members seem an odd mix of relieved and baffled. It does not soothe you one bit.

“Okay… y/n, there’s something we need to talk to you about.”

a/n: here it is! pls let me know what u think, feel free to come scream in my inbox and leave a like & reblog!! it means the world to me!! i might not always get to respond to all of them, but i do read every single one-- reread, even. thank u for reading this and for always supporting me! love u!! <3

[player-1]

Anyone who’s been in the TMA fandom (or those who understand the bare minimum of the story) know damn well that whatever was going on with Michael D. Stortion and Gabriel/Worker-of-Clay was not just a simple Avatar/Entity partnership. No, in the twisted timeline of the Spiral itself, the Armageddon arms-race pales in comparison to the romantic tragedy subplot those two had long before Jon and Martin were in the picture.

(This is also going to be a long one, and with some MAG 101 spoilers, so buckle on in...)

Here’s what I mean:

Gabriel (or in this case, Gabe) works with Neil Lagorio (Web aligned special-effects dude) in the mid 1900′s on their first movie The Labyrinth of the Minotaur. Unfortunately for him, Gabe quits in 1972 just as the movie was released. 

Not much is known of this time after 1972 up until the dreaded sculpting class in 2004. Speculation-wise, Gabriel might have been corrupted by the Flesh during his movie-making times or earlier before he came into contact with the Spiral.

Reasons: -The Spiral connects with the unraveling of reality, question one’s sanity and eventually “spiraling” into insanity. -The Flesh, in its literal sense, connects to the fear of people or animals being killed for meat; even the appearance of flesh/bone being twisted, bent, or butchered. But it can also connect on a emotional level, such as being viewed weaker than others, mostly relating to a person’s body image. That’s also the reason why the nature of his death is completely unlike the Spiral simply letting him fade out of reality. -Gabriel displays more Flesh-like qualities in his appearance and work up until the end of MAG 126. He doesn’t want people to judge him by appearance alone (even if his entire body is made up of clay) but he makes up for it with his unassuming personality and amazing talent. In a literal sense, he wants to mold himself into the kind of person that gets praised for his clay-making abilities, not just from his creations alone.  

[Enter Ｔｈｅ　Ｄｉｓｔｏｒｔｉｏｎ: Stage Left] Of course, while there’s no evidence on how, when or why the Distortion would target him specifically, but there is one thing. Compared to all the other Spiral avatars and fear-aligned creatures, they all used to be humans in the past. The Spiral by nature is to cast aside their humanity and submit to the nature of insanity. But since most of the Spiral avatars either faded out of existence or just refused to do anything ritual-wise, how was it supposed to create a new world if all they ever do is destroy? It adopts an artist, of course. There’s nothing more chaotic than the struggles of a budding sculptor such as himself. But while that may be a convincing argument for the Spiral to get Gabriel to join the Dark Side, there could be more to convince him that it’s worth following the unknowable being of delusions. Long story short, there was no reason for Gabriel to judge himself so poorly if he knew how to reshape the world to how he sees fit. it would convince him that, like the archangel he’s named after, he could show the world the coming future; twisting the laws of reality so that there’s no room to judge how something should be right or wrong, imaginary or real.  As if they were said from the Lord himself, Gabriel heard the Distortion’s tell him about a new world and finally found inspiration in them.

Then comes the sculpting class.  It’s worth noting that, even with the angel symbolism for Michael and Gabriel, it could be implied that Gabriel is also a goody-two-shoes Christian boy who regularly attends church, as evidence of Michael having knowledge about Mass in MAG 20, assisting the Flesh in driving Father Edwin to cannibalism (so the Flesh and Spiral have an interesting partnership, huh?).  Besides that, this is where Gabriel takes the spotlight. From Deborah’s point of view, he was a strange little man from the beginning; eyes always jutted out of his face, appearing right in someone’s personal space and disappearing just as fast, and of course, his works of clay. (Also a random headcanon just because: Gabriel may be afraid of water, either because his entire body being made of clay, and since you need water to help shape the material, he does not want to get it melded into his own flesh. Could also be the reason why he has short and greasy hair, cause he would practically melt into a puddle if he was unfortunate enough to get wet.) And apart from Deborah and her friends’ growing discomfort over Gabriel in general, he’s just vibing in the back of the class, trying to make a shape for the unknowable form of the Distortion. And the second Deborah inadvertently gives him a break from his artist’s block, he quite literally takes control of the class; switching over the biweekly schedule it was before into every week, and even manipulating the space of the classroom to further support his artistic needs. 

“Ray told us the lesson was ‘faces.’ I put my hand up to say that sculpting faces was probably a bit advanced for where we were in the course, but he shook his head, and said that we were… a lot more talented than we thought. He said the key was that faces were twisted. All faces were twisted on the inside, and all you had to do was reach into the deepest part of yourself and put that twisted on the outside of the clay, and as soon as you can scream you’ll have your own face staring back at you.”  (MAG 126)

This is also the key to the Spiral itself. With Gabriel’s assistance, he will be able to let the spiral to insanity move in reverse, create the physical manifestation of that fear instead of letting it collapse and destroy itself. And in that lesson as well, Gabriel finally creates a fitting image of the Distortion...A door, the physical entrance to insanity itself.

Then comes the final stretch in Sannikov Land, the nonexistent island that was said to exist between the years 2009 and 2011. And as Michael D. Stortion explains in MAG 101, was the perfect place for their ritual, The Great Twisting. After everything Gabriel had done to appease his good “friend”, The Distortion seemed extremely invested in the Worker of Clay at that point. Nevermind the fact that its telling Jon how its identity was stolen away from Michael Shelley by merging with the Distortion, but there’s more to this origin story.

“Michael was protective of the frail old woman he believed her to be. So… so delicate, so forgetful, yet gently wise. He cared for her. He trusted her. And she fed him to me. She made him to destroy our transcendence. And she did not hesitate.” “And it was me they sought to stop. Me and the others of It-Is-Not-What-It-Is. Our Great Twisting. The-Worker-of-Clay had laboured for decades on that contorted, impossible edifice of doors… and stairs… and falsehoods… and smiles. A thousand staring morsels stood, and not one of them believed themselves sane to look upon it. And in the centre, the door that would open to all the places that were never there, was me.“ “Perhaps I should have realised what was happening; seen those two lonely figures approaching me, but I cannot tell you the existential joys of truly… becoming. Of an entireness finally crossing the threshold into your self. So ecstatic was my completeness, I did not even hear my own door creak open.“ “Even sharper than the joy of becoming is the agony of being opened and remade. To have your who torn bloody from your what, and another crudely lashed into its place. To become Michael. And to do so at such a crucial point in our Twisting, in our becoming, well of course it destroyed it. The impossible altar collapsed. The-Worker-of-Clay tore out his veins to dissolve himself in crimson mud. The others of us were cast to all the places that aren’t; some have still not found their way out again...My very existence tied to my pointlessness. Wearing my failure as the very fabric of my being. Reduced once again to feeding on the unsuspecting and confused. That is who I am.“ (MAG 101)

Even if all of this was to explain how the Distortion became the being it is in the series, it’s easy to see how overjoyed it was during the ritual. All that the Spiral ever did was bring the sense of unreality and paranoia unto people for ages, only breaking down the mind until they eventually spiral into oblivion. It wanted to be something, it wanted to make something twisted and nonsensical from the world, to shape the world itself to the nature of insanity. And after all that time, no matter how many avatars it had in its control, Gabriel was the only one who began creating the ritual. Even if it was for an ulterior motive, The Distortion was pretty giddy as Gabriel worked for years on end to create the meaning of insanity; to create something that the Distortion saw as the perfect vessel for itself. And even as it was explaining it, with all these feelings of joy and ecstasy and very human thoughts and emotions, this was before it was forced to become Michael. So much for not being bound by human nature, huh? But it’s pretty ironic that, as the embodiment of delusions, insanity and lies, it never considered the idea of having an avatar that could make something out of that chaos. Even if the Distortion was explaining how Michael-not-Michael Shelley came into being, it also can be interpreted as Michael just yearning for his best Avatar so far.  So instead of “I’m going to tell you my entire backstory.”, it’s more like “I’m going to tell you how a nosy old woman and her idiotic assistant ruined my chances to be with my Avatar of the Decade who may or may not be my boyfriend.”

In conclusion, Gabriel AKA The Worker of Clay AKA Igor with an art degree became the Hands of the Spiral because the nonbinary embodiment of delusion (who is also a door) gave a miserable struggling artist a shot of self-confidence (and a shot out of the Flesh’s control), eventually becoming its #1 Boyfriend Avatar of all time, and is the only person that would make the “hates gender and existence itself” Distortion yearn for years after his tragic death.

Takes notes people, this is what peak performance looks like.

[vincess-princess]

ex malo bonum

Chapter 5.

Word count: 3391 Warnings: self-harm, suicide attempt Author’s note: it’s been exactly 3 months since i posted the last chapter, and i have nothing to say for myself

Nikki patted Vince’s bare thigh and left with a mocking “sleep tight, angel”. He didn’t even bother to untie him, and Vince didn’t ask for it. He hadn’t fallen so low yet.

He regretted it very soon. Though the bleeding down there had stopped, the blood didn’t go anywhere and soon started to stink. Mixed with the smell of blood from the previous night, it made the room smell like a slaughterhouse. Vince had seen one of those a couple of centuries before, during his last visit on Earth. He wasn’t Vince yet back then. He was something else. Something completely different, but with a name and a purpose. Back then, any sight of violence was revolting to him. He had to turn away to avoid watching poor animals getting killed.

How he envied them now. It seemed so easy. Just one swing of an axe, and everything is over.

No sharp teeth biting into his neck. No long claws tearing apart his flesh. No rough hands ripping off his clothes, pinning him to the bed, leaving bruises on his skin.

Even animals had it easier than him. Even about animals He cared more than about a child of his own, his flesh and blood, his own creation.

More and more of those dark, wrong, rebellious thoughts were flashing through Vince’s brain, flouncing about in his skull, intrusive, erratic, convincing. In the farthest corner of his mind Vince kept waiting for a stern voice in his head to say that it was all for a reason, and the reason was the crime he had committed, and all of this – all of this was his punishment.

But it never did, and the thoughts remained. They leaked deeper and deeper into Vince’s mind, to its most secluded corners, where even Vince never dared to look directly, afraid of seeing something he wasn’t supposed to see. They leaked there, drop by drop, word by word, and filled them to the brim, and mixed with what was already there.

And then came to light.

***

Just as the world started fading to black in front of Vince’s eyes, the door slammed open. Strong hands gripped his wrists and pulled them apart, releasing his throat. Vince tried to hold his breath, he almost did it, after all, but then a familiar, though way weaker, spike of electricity went down his spine, and for a moment his tormented vessel’s intrinsic desire to live overcame Vince’s desire to die. He inhaled hungrily, went into a fit of coughing, inhaled again, and again, and again, and the world started gaining colors back.

The first things to color were the eyes right in front of his. Strikingly, mesmerizingly blue eyes.

“Please, kill me,” Vince whispered hoarsely. The only demon who looked at him with a hint of sympathy was now right in front of him. Maybe he had enough kindness left in him to do Vince the last favor. He grabbed demon’s arms and pulled himself up, closer to Mick’s face, digging his fingers into tattooed skin with desperation strong enough to win over the fear. “Please, please, kill me.”

The demon cast a glance at him, his expression indifferent, and then pushed him back on the bed.

“No fucking way.”

Vince gasped shakily, feeling tears gathering up in his eyes. His last hope vanished. Nobody would let him do it, let alone help him. As much as the demons hated him, they needed him alive.

“Oh, come on, let’s do without all that,” Mick winced at the sight of tears. “Are you a teenage girl or what? Calm down.”

“I won’t,” Vince slurred through gritted teeth. The momentum, the state of turbulent determination was fading away, leaving behind only exhaustion and desperation.

“You will.” Mick frowned, and the air thickened again like it did with Nikki, and Vince suddenly remembered that this demon in front of him could destroy him in a movement of a finger. He must have already pissed him off so much. Vince bit his lip to not let out desperate sobs, stifled them in his chest for later, when he would be alone. “If we wanted you dead, we would simply not come for you.”

“I wish you had done that,” Vince said bitterly. Maybe talking back to such a powerful demon was a bad idea, but hadn’t he tried to kill himself a minute ago?

Mick didn’t answer this time, just looked at Vince, and he wasn’t able to utter a word anymore. He tried, but his tongue felt sluggish and heavy, his lips were as though glued together, not willing to part. All Vince could do was breathe shallowly and look at Mick wide-eyed with fear.

“That’s better,” Mick said after a few seconds of silence, interrupted only by Vince’s heavy breathing. He looked over Vince, his gaze lingering on the blood-stained sheets between Vince’s legs and the wooden crowbar, the one Vince’s bracelets had been attached to, broken out of the bed’s headboard. Vince’s wrists were bloody and raw from where bracelets had been digging into his skin, but they only started to hurt now. “Is that Nikki’s visit that got you so agitated?”

Vince, still not being able to talk, shook his head. Nikki had started the process, of course. But the thoughts were Vince’s, not Nikki’s.

“It is, then,” the demon concluded and moved around the bed to get a better look. Feeling his stare right there again drove blood to Vince’s cheeks for absolutely no reason. He had just realized how awful he must have looked, bloody and beaten, stripped of his last remains of dignity and self-control. No angel could get into a situation like this; He just wouldn’t let it happen.

Vince was, apparently, no longer His child.

“Nikki, unfortunately, isn’t the gentlest partner,” the demon said. “And he still hasn’t learned to clean up after himself.” Mick added calmly, the sort of unnatural calmness with not a single leaf on trees moving that comes right before the storm. “I should make him do it,” Mick cast another examining look at Vince, whose eyes widened with fear. “I really should.”

At the mere thought of Nikki touching him again something broke inside of Vince, spilling cold into his veins, spreading it throughout his whole body. But then Mick stretched out his hand and touched the chain. The metal ring around Vince’s ankle opened. While Vince stared at it in disbelief, the belt restraining his other ankle untied itself and slid to the floor. The bracelets opened with a click a second later.

“Next time.” Mick added. Relief washed over Vince. “Now get up.”

Easier said than done. Vince rolled on the side, trying to lean on his arms to sit up, but all his strength seemed to have left him, and his shaky arms were too weak to lift his body. Mick grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him up on his feet, nodding in response to Vince’s silent “thanks”.

Then Vince took one step and fell on his knees. His legs, having spent more than a day in the same position, couldn’t hold him. The abrupt movement sent spikes of pain throughout the lower part of his body, hurting in all the wrong places, places where it wasn’t supposed to hurt; a drop of blood slid down his inner thigh. Vince thought being hit by a truck should have hurt worse. It did, but only for a second. Here – here Vince had to go through it fully conscious and painfully aware of how it happened.

“I will not carry you,” Mick warned, but reached out to help Vince get up. Vince gripped his hand so hard he almost pulled Mick down onto the floor with him.

“Careful!” Mick hissed, pushing away Vince’s hand and visibly wincing from pain. “I said I’m not carrying you, fucking get up yourself!” His hand rubbed the base of his neck.

Scared of making another mistake, Vince no longer tried to hold onto Mick, leaning onto the wall instead. His every step was followed by a pang of pain between his legs, but he never made a sound and only gritted his teeth. He wasn’t weak. He could handle it. He would handle it, purely out of spite towards Nikki.

His vision blurred by tears, Vince didn’t notice they had arrived at their destination. Only when Mick opened the door in front of him and carefully pulled him inside, Vince managed to concentrate on reality.

He was in a bathroom. Not a very huge one and definitely not clean; but it had a toilet on which Vince could sit and the bath where he could wash off the blood which had already dried up and formed a crust on his skin. Vince limped heavily to the toilet and plopped onto the toilet lid.

“No-no, not here. Get right in the bath.” Mick pointed at it and turned on water. Thank god, Vince thought, and it took him a couple of seconds to realise he wasn’t thinking of Him as reverently as he did before.

Vince clumsily climbed into the bath and sank onto the bottom. He looked at the water filling the bath and on red drops diluting in it with apathy. Hot water burned his skin at first, but once he got used to it, it became almost comforting, like a blanket or a hug of a friend.

“I’m going to fetch some clean clothes for you,” Mick said soon after. “Don’t try to drown yourself, okay? I’ll be back too soon for you to actually drown. Just keep that in mind.”

Vince only nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the water that was slowly reddening. His self-destructive moment of excitation had faded, leaving him empty and exhausted. Even raising his gaze seemed too big of an effort.

Mick should have really returned quickly, because Vince didn’t even notice his absence. The demon held a pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt with a weird image on it. Skulls or something. Very demon-like.

“I doubt Tommy’s or Nikki’s pants will fit, so I had to take one of mine. Don’t you dare ruin them, I’ll take them back once we get you some new clothes,” Mick warned. “And the tee is Nikki’s, it’s his fault you’ve got all your things torn and bloody.”

Nikki’s?

Vince caught Mick’s gaze and shook his head, not even afraid of it piercing him through now. He barely handled hearing this name, let alone wearing his clothes. He wouldn’t put it on for the love of God and everything holy.

“What?” Mick frowned, and something as though fell in Vince’s stomach, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Come on. It’s just a t-shirt.”

I will not, Vince pronounced with his lips, put it on.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Mick rolled his eyes. “You wearing his t-shirt doesn’t change a thing. It’s just because Tommy is even taller than Nikki and I don’t have anything clean right now.”

I will not, Vince repeated, burning a hole in Mick’s skin with his eyes, put it on.

“And I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Mick said, annoyance on his face. Every second Vince spent looking right into his eyes he grew more and more nervous, and some part of him, the one that wanted to crawl away when they first met, insisted panicky, don’t argue, just do what he says, he will get angry, he will punish you for your audacity-

Fuck off, Vince told it and kept looking Mick right in the eyes, as the world around him was losing its colors, and only those strikingly-blue eyes, that unreadable face, were all that mattered now.

Mick sighed. Slowly, wearily.

“Alright,” he said. The tension in the air that their eye contact was producing weakened. Vince inhaled sharply, only now realizing he had been holding his breath the entire time. “Are you okay with Tommy’s tees or do you hold grudges against him as well?”

Vince shook his head.

“Alright then.” Mick disappeared so swiftly even the door didn’t creak and came back with another t-shirt with an even weirder pattern, this time with wings and some letters. Vince caught a glimpse of Mick’s eyes under his black hair, but couldn’t recognize an expression in them.

By that time yellowish water had filled the bath. Vince sank lower into it and closed his eyes, imagining himself being in His arms, the dream that always used to bring him comfort and peace. But it didn’t work that time – instead of calm and reassurance he felt only resentment, resentment so strong he struggled with an intense desire to jump out of the water. A goddamn demon, an evil, low creature did more for him than He did, and Mick didn’t even do that much.

“Hey, don’t sleep,” Mick’s voice was muffled, as though he was talking from another room, although Vince could see him standing next to the bath. “You can actually drown. Your body is now almost as fragile as that of a mortal.”

Why? Vince pronounced silently.

“You have lost the Lord’s support,” Mick said His name with softness, almost… fondness? “and haven’t yet come into your full power. You’re hanging between Heaven and Hell, and neither is ready to accept you so far.”

Wait, so Heaven can take me back? Vince perked up.

“What?” Mick raised his eyebrows. Vince, feeling incredibly stupid for some reason, pointed up at the ceiling, then at himself, and raised his hands up, curling his fingers around an invisible hand in the air. Vince hadn’t realised how vital the ability to speak was to him before, even if it was just to throw curses at Nikki and Tommy. Now he was missing it intensely.

Mick looked at him with confusion for a second before understanding reflected on his face.

“You want Heaven to take you back?” he said, frowning. “You still want it?”

Vince glanced at Mick and then lowered his gaze, staring at the water instead. He wouldn’t have answered even if he could talk, even if the question hadn’t been asked by a powerful demon who expected a very obvious and clear answer.

“You still want it,” Mick concluded with a sigh. Vince couldn’t bring himself to disagree. “Bad.”

He was disappointed, Vince could distinguish it in his tone. And hearing that from Mick was scary. But Vince needed the answer.

“Well, not quite,” Mick said slowly almost a minute of silence. “No one who’s left Heaven can come back.

That was it. No one who’s left Heaven can come back. It rang in Vince’s head, and every other sound was muffled by Mick’s voice repeating the same line in his head. No one who’s let Heaven can come back. No one who’s let Heaven can come back. No one-

“But that’s not a one-way ticket down to Hell,” Mick continued, and his voice, low and clear, easily overlapped Vince’s whirl of voices in his head repeating the same phrase, so easily it would surprise Vince if he wasn’t overcome by emotions. Vince concentrated on his voice, and his panicky thoughts slowly faded to black. “There are… options.”

Vince recalled what he heard from Nikki through the haze of pain and fear, thoroughly separating his actual words from emotions connected with him, locking the emotions down in the farthest corner of his mind, safely contained from other people and creatures with human appearances. Never show anyone your weaknesses, he had come to realise during his short stay on this Earth.

Gesturing “restless spirit” to Mick turned out to be quite a challenge and probably looked very funny, but not to the two of them. Mick smiled a couple of times at Vince’s clumsy gestures, but actually tried to understand him. It would be easier to just give Vince his voice back, of course, but it somehow didn’t occur to the demon. Vince appreciated the effort nonetheless.

Finally flapping his hands and drawing shapes in the air did their job, as Mick frowned in confusion and said unconfidently: “Ghosts?”

Vince nodded energetically.

“Ah, that,” Mick sighed. “I swear, one day I will mute Nikki for good. He talks too much about things he knows too little about.”

So it was all wrong? A little spring of hope perked up in Vince’s chest. No one who’s left Heaven can come back, Vince tramped the spring into the ground mercilessly, but it was harder than he expected. It kept unbending once he moved away his metaphorical shoe.

“Sorry, kid,” Mick interrupted his struggles, and with his words grabbed the spring and pulled out the string in one swift movement, so swift it didn’t even hurt much. “You may not finish your transformation, yes. But it would hurt much more. You will practically doom yourself to eternal suffering. And I know you won’t believe me now, but life as a demon and even as a ghost is not that bad. There is a much worse fate for a fallen angel”.

What fate, Vince wanted to cry out, but could only exhale loudly. Mick turned away from him, obviously not willing to continue the conversation. Oh no, Vince wasn’t going to let him just walk away. Not like that. Not in such a moment.

Vince stretched out his hand and tapped Mick on the side.

“What?” Mick looked at him, and there was a slightly darker shade in his eyes, a slightly grimmer tone in his voice, and Vince’s hand dropped onto the side of the bath and remained there. It wasn’t like when he revolted to wearing Nikki’s t-shirt. That was a trifle, and now – now they reached something way more serious.

Alright. Okay. If Mick didn’t tell him, he’d find it out on his own.

“No more questions?” Mick grinned, but his grin lost its spark of sincerity. “Good. Here’s soap – I suppose you already know what it is? No? Wash your body with it. Put it in water, then roll around in your hands a bit, then apply to other body parts. And this,” – he pointed at a bottle on the edge of the bath, “is shampoo. It’s for hair. Just pour some on it and rub it in for a couple of minutes, then wash it off. You’re going to be stuck within this vessel for a long time, better learn how to take care of it. Got it?”

Vince nodded.

“Good. I’m not going to bathe you myself like some goddamn kid who shit his pants. You’ll do it yourself, and I’ll be outside, and the moment-” he grabbed Vince’s chin and pushed it up, forcing him to look into his eyes, soak up their clear cold blueness, “-do you hear me, the moment I feel you do yourself any harm, even slip in the bath, I will come, and you will regret it. Got it?”

Unable to nod this time, Vince opened and closed his eyes, breaking their eye contact with an incredible effort.

“Good boy,” Mick released his chin and ruffled his hair roughly. Electric charge went through Vince again, but this time he barely noticed it, still trying to break free from the hypnotizing power of Mick’s eyes.

Mick headed to the door, opened it and turned back to Vince.

“By the way,” he said unexpectedly carefully, “have you decided on a name already?”

Vince blinked helplessly for a couple of seconds before Mick with a “shit, I forgot” waved his hand, returning his ability to speak.

“I,” the first words were hoarse and quiet, “I, I’ve been calling myself Vince all this time. I saw it on a on a huge picture not far from… not far from that place. The human there also had blond hair.”

“Vince then,” Mick smiled. “Nice name. I’ll pass it to the boys.”

When he left, a weight was as though was lifted from Vince’s shoulders. He hadn’t realised how much his presence was weighing on him, how much pure tension hung in the air when Mick was in the room. Now that he was gone, it was like a breath of fresh air.

Vince leaned back onto the bath side, sliding down deeper into the water up to his chin, and inhaled slowly. The water was warm and dulled the pain. And Vince finally wasn’t restrained.

It felt good.

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 1 - What It Should Be (prologue)

~Hey Guys! This is the first chapter in ‘Save Me’. It tells you about Molly Chambler’s background and sets up her story with Negan and the Saviours who we will encounter in chapter 3. Hope you enjoy and check my profile for updates on chapter posts! ~

Molly strolls through Alexandria remembering the first time their group saw the place. She feels the warm Summer breeze zip through her hair and smiles gently at those passing her by. Glancing over at her sister, Tara, she recalls how lucky she is to have found her family.

Alexandria. The place we had called home for almost just over a year now.

I remember the feeling of walking through those gates with everyone and immediately knowing that this was the place that I always knew we would get to.

It has always felt like a safe haven for us and some days when I don't have to leave the compound, it's as though we have left all of the horror and death of the outside world behind.

It was like a mini town with its rows of white washed houses each with a small porch out front lining the walls on either side and in the middle were a dozen apple and pear trees on a large oval patch of grass.

Everyone was always busy working and before Rick, Deanna made a great leader.

She was the type of woman who could work you out just by looking at you.

Of course, she made Rick and Michonne enforcement officers, Daryl a hunter, Maggie was on crops and Glenn, Rosita, Tara and I were all runners.

As much as I liked being inside of the compound, I relished the ability to provide for others.

It took a while to get used to how things were run at Alexandria but I knew that I would always be grateful to Aaron for allowing us to become part of their community which felt like the start of a new world.

I was worried for Carol though, she had been through so much before we came to Alexandria and somehow the ease to which she slipped right into the role of a housewife made me worry even more.

As much as I wanted to relax and trust the people of this community, I felt strangely unease as the place was practically perfect, too perfect.

I think the only person that made me feel like I wasn't alone in my thoughts was Daryl.

Daryl's the type of person who is hard to read a lot of the time and it takes a while for them to trust you, but deep down they are the sweetest most caring person alive.

I could tell that while everyone in our group had settled into Alexandria, Daryl still felt uneasy and unwelcome.

He would sit on Carol's porch and we would talk about everything but mostly about how we felt like it was too good to be true and that with everything that we had all gone through that trusting in this place too quickly would kill us all.

Daryl was right and not long after we arrived at Alexandria, everything went to shit.

The same happened again, and it started with a group who wanted what we had.

They called themselves 'wolves' and could be identified by a W on their forehead which was carved into their skin.

Rick thought that reuniting with Morgan meant that he was the same person back when it all started, but Morgan had changed.

He was against killing people, which I didn't wholly agree with but I understood why.

If we keep killing people, then how can we honestly build a fair new civilisation if our actions betray us, but where we were at that point, there was no option but to protect what was ours or they would take it and most likely kill us all.

The Wolves drove a truck right into one of our walls and many infiltrated peoples houses and killed them.

But, with our weapons we managed to take out them all, leaving the leader, Owen, alive.

Morgan and Carol kept Owen in their basement to try to reason with him. He escaped and when he got out he saved Denise and got bit in the process.

It was that moment when I realised that I was wrong to assume that they were all bad, but when you've lost so much already it becomes hard to trust again.

Even after the wall was rebuilt walkers became more and more frequent around the walls, maybe it was because of the increase in civilians or the noise of people working but whatever was the cause it seemed to attract them from near and far.

Eventually the shear amount of walkers became overwhelming and the volume of them managed to pull down the watchtower in the east of the compound and it fell straight through the side wall, allowing all of the walkers into Alexandria.

Many got bit and turned which added fuel to the problem and sadly we lost Deanna that night.

We saw families being torn apart, literally, and a state of panic glided through the compound.

Losing Deanna was hard for all of us but it was especially hard on her son, Spencer.

Spencer was the type of guy who never really faced his problems but blamed everyone else for them, and when Deanna was alive he blamed her for his father Reg's death alongside his brother Aiden.

When Deanna died, this blame passed on to Rick.

Spencer always felt like because he was Deanna's last son, he should have been the next leader but honestly he never had the ability or the respect that Rick had from all of us and he was always bitter about that.

When Rick became the new leader, it felt as though goodness had came back into our lives as we all felt comforted by the fact that a member of our family now led us.

Walking through Alexandria, seeing the new wall go up and reinforcements being made, made me feel so incredibly grateful to live in such a protected place with my family by my side.

Just knowing that I had my sister Tara and my best friends Maggie and Daryl alive and safe with me especially in a single compound, was enough to fill me with warmth and hope for the future.

Seeing Tara happy with her girlfriend Denise gave me the much needed boost to settle down and plant roots here as it now felt like a permanent home for us.

Although, I will always tease Tara about how long it took her to ask Denise out considering how much time they spent together.

Looking over at Tara and Denise on their porch reminded me of how blessed I am to had found her again when I joined Rick's group.

In many ways, Alexandria reminded me a lot of Woodbury.

The rows of houses, the grass, the orchards and the tall steel walls to keep out walkers.

I think that's why it took me so long to trust Alexandria, because of what Woodbury turned into.

Molly suddenly remembers the governor and her sisters at Woodbury.

Three years ago, Lilly was still alive. Lilly was the eldest of the four of us, then me, then Tara and Meghan was the youngest, she was ten when she died.

We had came across Woodbury soon after our dad had passed due to cancer.

I had to put him down.

Even though we lost dad, I was always grateful that mom died before the world fell because she was weaker than the rest of us.

When we met the governor, there was something about him that made me immediately wary of him, but because of Lilly's infatuation with him we decided to trust him.

He told us that he would protect us and that we had to help him fight another group who threatened Woodbury's safety, and because I feared for my sisters I believed him.

Lilly and Tara were happy to stay at Woodbury, but I wanted to delve deeper and find out why I had such a bad feeling about him.

I remember breaking into his office and unlocking the door and finding jars stacked up on each other with walker heads inside.

This was something he never wanted anyone to see and it was clear to see why, he was insane.

The governor caught me and gave me a choice, leave Woodbury or he would kill my sisters in front of me.

To protect them I left, but I wouldn't rest until the governor was dead and my sisters would be safe.

After walking for days I came across an abandoned prison, that was where Daryl found me and brought me to Rick to be questioned.

Looking at Rick, I knew that this man was different from the governor and told them everything that I knew about Woodbury.

Of course it took a while for everyone to trust me and me to trust them but they were a family which was more than the people of Woodbury ever were.

The day that the governor came to the prison, I saw Lilly and Tara with him. I could tell they finally realised what the governor was like by the looks on my sisters faces through the wire fence.

Michonne held me back when I tried to reach them and Rick tried to reason with the governor.

He killed Maggie's father, Herschel and that was it. The war had begun and Tara and Lilly realised what a monster he was.

Rick was already in a bad place since his wife Lori died and so he didn't stop me from going over that fence.

As soon as I got to Tara I dragged her away from the governor's forces and asked where Lilly was.

Lilly had gone after the governor and Rick.

After Michonne had stabbed the governor for trying to kill Rick, Lilly had ended the governor with a shot to the chest.

We heard the gunshot and ran towards the sound until we spotted Lilly collapsed.

Once we got to her, she was lying on the grass outside the prison next to the governor's body with her chest bleeding out.

The governor had stabbed her before she shot him. She kept repeating that she almost made it.

Tara was the one that put her down and we just held each other and sobbed while the world stood still until Michonne found us and we all left the prison as a group.

Since then, Tara and I vowed to always protect each other and our family until we die.

No matter what comes or where we go, we will always remain true to our group.

That feeling of security and community that I felt back then, is what I felt when we first came to Alexandria.

That feeling of hope is what I want to hold onto to and build for the future so that Alexandria will still stand in a hundred years from now as the first community to bring back civilisation.

Carl always talks about the vision for the future of the community and never wavered from that wish even through all the doubt that came from others across the years and it was then when Rick swore to make it happen come hell or high water.

Little did we know that soon we would come face to face with both hell and high water.

[a-simple-imagine]

Dirty Little Secret pt.2

Requested by me: After spending some time apart, Mera has finally come to a decision. So she invites Y/N to the palace for a little chat.

Pairing: Mera x Atlantean!reader

Word Count: 2100

// PREV

As days flutter by, you’re left missing a woman you shouldn't have even been with, in the first place. you had started out as friends, way before everything that happened. The more you hung out, the more you realised that maybe you liked her as more than a friend. After Arthur took over, you finally worked up the courage to tell her how you felt and things kind of just blossomed from there. The odd stolen kiss became make out sessions. Soft brushes of skin became your hands pinned against a wall. Things escalated so quickly and even though you knew it was wrong, it just felt so right. Mera made you feel something which you had completely cut yourself off from but perhaps the passion came from the forbidden element. Being her dirty little secret fueled nights of passion. Now, her presence in you life was almost haunting. In every pair of eyes, you just saw her. you'd see her in crowds when she wasn't even there. Every bump in the night brought you back to the redhead. It was like your own mind was punishing you for thinking you could be happy together. For thinking that at the end of the day, she would pick you. This break was supposed to be a chance to allow Mera time to think but maybe it was something else entirely. Perhaps it was just your way of avoiding the inevitable. What surprised you most was when royal guards were sent to collect you. It wasn't very Mera but it was smart. You can't ignore a royal order and so you had to swallow your pride and do as you were told.

As you made your way into the room, it was just Mera. You wondered where Arthur could be but then again, of course, he wasn’t here. you lingered in the doorway. Was this it? Had she come to the conclusion that you wanted? you were kind of worried about where this was going.

"You called?"

Mera turned to face you, a soft smile settling on her lips but only for a split second. She ushered the guards out of the room and you watched as they went.

"You can come closer."

"Where is the king?" you ask cautiously as you move slightly closer to her.

"No idea. Off wrestling sharks or something knowing him." Her shoulders rose in a casual shrug. God, you missed her and that smile. you chuckle weakly at the joke.

"So what's up, Mera? What do you want?" you question. She probably realised that  you weren’t going to get any closer because she made her way over to you. Her eyes met yours and you couldn't help but smile.

"Nothing," She replied, shaking her head a little as she did so. "I just wanted to see you, it's been a while."

She was right. It had been a few weeks but it was what you both needed. That much you were sure of. And she had made no effort to contact you before so why now?  What exactly had changed? Surely she doesn't miss you more now than she did before. "You dragged me all the way here just because you missed me?"

"Please do not get mad. I know it is selfish of me but I couldn't help myself. I knew you'd never ignore a royal summon."

"I never would have ignored you," you admitted. As much as you were trying to keep your distance. If Mera asked for something from you, you wouldn't dream of simply ignoring her. She was always going to be someone special. That much would never change. "Not now. Not ever."

"Not even after our last talk?"

"Not even after our last talk," you confirmed. "I was angry and I meant what I said but that doesn't change how much I care about you, Mera."

"Do you miss it?" The redhead asked, dropping her gaze.

"Miss what? Sneaking around?" you inquire. you did, in fact, miss sneaking around but only because it meant you got to be with her. You missed listening to her intently as she told you about her day. Watching how her eyes lit up as she spoke about the things she loved. The way she laughed. You just liked spending time with her, although you did enjoy the sex too. A night with Mera really was something.

Her head shook and a serious look settled on her face. "Being together."

You watched her face for a moment, wondering what the point of all this was? As well as just how she felt. "I think we both know that I do. I would give anything to go back to when things were good."

A flash of something you couldn't quite recognise took over from her once serious expression before going completely blank. "We can," Her voice was hushed. "...If you want to."

"We can't."

"If you just-"

"We can't." You interrupt firmly and you could almost sense her discomfort at my response. Mera was hardly a timid person. She was one of the most confident people you know but you guess this was hard for her. "I miss you, Mera- a lot. And I know you miss me too but we can't keep sneaking around. Think about how this will affect Arthur. How much it'd crush him if he found out."

"I know." Mera turned away from you completely.

"Do you? Because you're making this harder than it already is, Mera. You just have to make a choice."

"I don't mean to," Mera replies softly.

"I know you don't. You're just trying to do what you think is best for Atlantis and for yourself but at this point, I don't think you can do both. I..." You trailed off unsure of what exactly you were trying to tell her that you hadn't already said. It's hard trying to make someone see a situation from another person's point of view. Perhaps Mera just saw all this as you trying to push her away because you were scared. Moving closer, you reached for her hand and she turned back.  you took hold of the other, trying to be as gentle with her as possible given the situation but she wouldn't even look at you. "I just... I don't understand how staying with Arthur is helping anyone. You can still support Atlantis without."

"It's complicated, Y/N."

You wanted to be angry with her, you really did but seeing how much this was affecting her you just couldn't. you didn't understand her sense of duty because you weren’t in her position. you weren’t born a princess. You didn't help Arthur save Atlantis. You were just another citizen with little choice in the matter. Not only that but you'd fallen for a princess who, in a traditional sense, should end up with another royal. you believed Mera deserved a choice but even if that choice was you, would Atlantis even accept it?

"We've been over this before so we don't need to again." You tried to offer her a smile but it felt like you were pitying her. You didn't want to make her feel that way. " Its complicated and I can't change your mind about this so you're just going to have to trust yourself here, Mera. My feelings for you won't change no matter the situation. I'm not gonna start hating you if you choose, him. I'll always support you even if you don't want to be with me."

Words fell from your lips like a waterfall. Fast and uncontrollable but contained. Contained chaos. you weren’t sure if she believes them but you weren’t sure, you quite believed them either. You had no control over yourfeelings. Mera could choose Arthur and over time you could learn to resent her. you could hate her for leading you on only to crush your heart at the end. There was a world of possibilities but you guess you were trying to reassure her. Trying to make this decision easier because one was needed. This whole thing needed to come to an end one way or another. "I can make the decision for you if you'd like?"

Her eyes met yours for the first time in a while but their usual warmth seemed to have vanished. They almost seemed too cold. Distant. you expected her to say something but she didn't. She just stared at you. It was like she was trying to figure out what you were doing. What the end goal was? Your mind wondered to moments similar to this. Where you'd hold her hand and just let a comfortable silence envelope the two of you. you would just run away to a place all your own. This was a little more awkward than those times but there was still something so familiar about it. Her head shook as she eventually spoke up. "I can make my own decisions, it's just hard. I don't want to break Arthur's heart but then I also don't want to hurt you."

your brow furrows as you try to figure out the decision hidden beneath her words. It was clear she was torn but that much had always been obvious. you had no right to make this decision for her but you thought there was no harm in guessing the most logical choice, right. "You're choosing Arthur aren't you?"

You didn't want to assume but by the look on her face and her failure to respond, you knew you were right. They say the truth hurts but you never imagined it would hurt this much. You want to let go of her hands but she tightened her grip ever so slightly. She put your hands on her waist as hers came up to grace your jaw and leaned in.

"I love you, Y/N." she whispered against your lips. Her forehead falling against yours, you pulled her closer. “you were the best secret I ever had.”

"I know." Mera was someone you had come to cherish but you knew her too well to expect any different outcome. you guess you were just hoping that maybe this time would be different. That maybe It was worth it but perhaps that was because you were being selfish. You didn't care about Atlantis, you wanted her. "it’s fine"

"Thank you for understanding." The redhead smiled. Stealing another kiss before backing away and out of your grip.

"I never said I understood but you mean a lot to me and I want you to be happy. If that means sticking by Arthur then so be it." you offer a weaker smile in return but a smile all the same. You weren’t going to argue with her or convince her otherwise. But your smile fell once you realised what had to come next.

"So... friends." She held her hand out in offering.

"We can't be friends, Mera." you shook your head. "I don't think I can handle being just friends with you, at least not yet."

"Oh..." her smile wavered for a moment. "okay then. I understand but I hope that one day, you'll see that this is what I needed to do."

"I hope so too." A soft sigh. You weren’t quite sure just how well you would handle completely cutting Mera out of your life. You didn't know if you were strong enough to do that.  "I do want you to know, that I'll always be on your side though, no matter what."

"And I'm always on your side too- Even if you never want to see me again." Mera replied.

"Kinda hard to avoid when you're royalty though, huh?" You joke. Mera laughed a little.

"Guess it can't be helped really." She shrugged and you nodded.

"So, I'll see you around Mera and please keep the royal summons to a minimum next time."

"I make no promises."

"Oh my gosh, she makes jokes." You tease. Laughter is the best medicine or so you’re told.

"She has a name." Mera countered. You didn't really know what to say to that and so you just smiled a little. It was weird how well she was dealing with this and how well you were. You had expected to feel angrier. You expected more screaming and shouting or just anything else really? But this was strangely calm and sure, your chest was aching with want however you had no desire to hurt her the way she unintentionally hurt you.

"Guess, I'll be going then. Later, Mera"

"Bye, Y/N."

[notnaturalanahi]

What you need to now about ciclyng accidents with pedestrians

This could be a series, who knows...

Characters: Dean, Fem!Reader  Wc: 1200-ish

Warnings: Language, blood (because of the accident), mentions of delinquency and idk what else.

A/N: I happened to come across this post  from @dailyau and this “drabble” sprouted from my brain. It could easily become a series but i’m not sure if anyone is intretested in that. 

  One foot on the empty side street Dean couldn't help to sniff the pie in his hands again. It smelled delicious, he could not wait to get home and eat it.

“FUUUUCK!” someone shouted.

“What th-” He looked up, it was too late.

Closing his eyes he held his ground, it was the first and only reaction. Walking back to take shelter behind the parked car, or just keep walking towards the sidewalk on the other side of the street never even crossed his mind.

The collision wasn’t as bad he expected. It didn’t hurt that much actually, there would be some bruising of course and soreness on his side, right where the handlebar got him, but that was just it. Immediately he opened his eyes, the pie on his hand was intact.

Thank God!!

A racket of metal against the ground and a trail of curses finally made him turn around. The bicycle laid on the ground, the back wheel still spinning in the air, the chain had fallen off its gear and a few feet further down the street, the cute little wicker basket torn apart because of the impact.

“Oh god! I’m sorry!! I’m so sorry!!” The driver of the bicycle apologized over and over as they attempted to get up

Quickly, Dean left his pie on the hood of the car, that was parked by the sidewalk just around the corner of his favorite pastry store, and went in aid of this reckless driver that was trapped under the weight their own vehicle.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, lifting the not that heavy bicycle, placing it by the side of the car, careful not to scratch the paintwork. He didn’t want some angry owner to come at him later because of it.

“Are you?” they asked back in a bitchy tone, from under a loose purple, Atom Ant kinda helmet. “Oh my god you came out of nowhere! Weren’t you told to look both ways before you cross the street?!”

“No! I mean, yes. Sorry I didn’t look, I-” Dean started arguing back rolling his eyes. He finally  noticed it was a girl when she sat up and a hand, with one nail of each color of the rainbow came up to fix the helmet and push it up again, away from her face.

His breath caught in his throat, it was like the sun just came up after a long winter of darkness, the warm sunshine pushing away the cold, flowers springing and birds singing everywhere.

“Dude, you okay?” she checked, waving a hand in front of his face.

Dean blinked his awe away and took in her gorgeous features, noticing the nasty scrape on her cheek and the thin stream of blood gushing from her eyebrow.

“Ye-yeah”, he stuttered a little. “I’m okay. I’m good actually, you barely touched me. You on the other hand look like you need some first aid.”

“No, I’m good!” she retorted.

Using the napkin he still had in his hand from the pie tasting a minute ago, he gently reached out for her face, she flinched but allowed him to touch her, hissing when he ghosted the tip of his fingers on the bruise forming around the wound.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. You’re bleeding,” Dean pointed out to her.

Her face turned pale and her gorgeous lips tinted some tone of blue.

“Oh fuck,” she exclaimed.

“You gonna faint? No, please don’t faint!” Dean panicked for a moment.

She lifted up her hand to him, a big bright scrape on her palm too.

“Nah,” she answered, her voice a bit weaker than before. “It’s just… Ugh I got dizzy. It happens whenever I see blood. OUCH!” She tried to massage her temple but it hurt when she touched her eyebrow.

“Look, I live literally across the street…”

She stared up at him, the followed his fingers towards the apartment building in front of them before quirking her face at his offer.

“I’m just saying it because you’re bike is damaged and- and well, so are you-”

“Oh trust me, I am pretty damaged,” she chuckled at that making him smile.

“I’m just- Um, I mean, if you want to I can clean you up. Or you can clean yourself up. I have a first aid kit and some tools…” he trailed off stopping his rambling, as he waited for her to answer.

Her eyes found her bicycle and the wicker basket, still laying on the street, before looking down at herself and noticing her dirt stained jeans.

“Well,” he sighed, pondering over his offer. “I guess I could come up and get myself clean up and… You don’t need to fix the bicycle. It’s no even mine.”

“The more reason, then. You should fix it before you return it,” Dean said as he stood up and offered his hand to her, she took it, with a grunt and Dean’s help she finally stood, her head barely reaching his shoulder. “I’m Dean by the way,” he finally introduced himself while he still held her hand.

“Wow, Dean. You’re tall,” she noted. “I’m Y/N. Oh and I won’t be returning it.”

“Why’s that?” He took it by the handlebar and the seat anyway. “Could you..?” He signaled for her to grab the pie box and she did with a nod.

“I kinda… stole it,” Y/N grinned innocently.

Dean’s eyes widened, his hands let go of the bicycle and it fell down to the ground.

“No, no, but It’s okay though!” she said quickly, setting the pie back in the hood, her hands up in explanation.

“How is it okay, that you stole this,” Dean pointed down to the bicycle.

“Look, it was my ex’s. And she kinda owed me money, okay? Besides, she know I took it.” Y/N smiled up to Dean, her face showed no remorse, like stealing someone's bike was a normal thing to do.

“Or at least hope she knows,” she added under her breath, but Dean heard her, blinking in disbelief.  

Dean stared down at her unsure about how to proceed now this wreckless stranger dropped this bomb on him. He knew it wasn’t a crime, sort of… If the ex-girlfriend didn’t presented change- “Did you say ex-girlfriend?” he asked, just realising that part.

“You have a problem with that too, mom?” she spoke with sarcasm and rolled her eyes. “Oh-kay, I…’m gonna leave now and you don’t have to see me again.”

Y/N moves away from him and went to grab the bicycle, turning around to see Dean still standing in the same spot. “Unless your offer is still up and you’re letting me get clean up at your place?”

She grinned. “I won’t steal anything from you, I swear. It’s not like I just go around town stealing people’s things. I have a proper job, and this not it.”

Dean stared at her, dumbfounded.

“You realise all of this was your fault, right?” she said, pointing to herself, her ride.

“What?!” Dean asked.

“Yeah, 1% of cicying accidents are caused by reckless pedestrians! Don’t gimme that face.. This is your fault. You shoulda looked both ways!! Okay, look, I’m willing to let this whole thing go, if you give me half your pie… That shit smells delicious!”

I might just stop using this tag list

Everything: 

@nadiandreu7, @mogaruke, @fangirl1802, @ria132love @feelmyroarrrr, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @love-kittykat21, @emilyymichelle, @imagining-supernatural, @kdfrqqg, @charliebradbury1104, @thedevilinthedetails, @docharleythegeekqueen, @artprincessbree, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @starry-chaos, @supernatural-girl97, @sammys-lost-shoe, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @nanie5, @roxyspearing, @emoryhemsworth, @rambling-rabbit, @akshi8278, @meganwinchester1999, @geekgirl1213, @maui137, @waywardasfudge, @kickasscas67, @spnwoman, @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou, @asgardianvamp21, @michell868,

@thatpeachybandgirl, @read-the-reid, @supernaturalmistress @jensen-gal, @its-my-perky-nipples, @esoltis280, @jeanjeaniethings, @jadalecki-jackles, @destielhoneybee, @andkatiethings, @strxngersclxb, @just-ladyme, @thisismysecrethappyplace

Dean/Jensen:

@missmotherhen, @chennyetomlinson, @jennell79, @ruprecht0420, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @evyiione, @laurafloradora, @fanfreak07, @superapplepie, @wingedcatninja, @sandlee44, @plaidstiel-wormstache, @lessons-of-red, @supernatural-fan-123, @mandilion76, @aly-winchester, @stuff-winchesterdemon67, @destielhoneybee, @carribear31, @treat-winchesterswith-kindness

[harleyquilt]

A cry for help

Summary: mini angst fic inspired by new chapter. You asked for this

…

Silence.

The once busy and lively streets of tokyo was now reduced to a bitter silence with only the never ending screams of citizens and helicopters being heard in the distance. Kaneki dragged his weak feet down the now destroyed streets of the first ward, nothing but endless heaps of messily torn apart bodies and limbs all around as the concrete walls were painted red with dripping blood. The sheer amount of destruction was carved into the now lifeless streets, cars smashed into nothing but scrap, buildings crushed into rubble and the bodies…All the bodies…

Touka.

Where was she?

As his eyes drifted to his surroundings, he was only able to think of her reaction. There was nothing he could say to justify all of this carnage. There was no forgiveness that could be spared for the monster he was, for the damage he had caused. Nothing could save him. Touka…was she even alive?

And to think that he committed all of this for her…

Disgusting.

Her name escaped his chapped lips in an almost pathetic plea for her presence, his voice small and barely a whisper before he tripped over his own feet and crashed into the ground. For a moment, his vision was blurred, everything out of focus with a loud ringing in his ears. He started to drag himself forward, his bleeding fingertips clawed against the cracked ground and once his vision cleared, he saw a figure in the distance.

“Tou..ka..” He managed to say as he finally forced himself onto his feet and stumbled his way towards her. “Tou..ka!”

When he got close enough, he realised that she too was covered in blood. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes reduced to messy, blood soaked rags and her face…she looked so drained of life. Her eyes was bloodshot and there was stains on her dirtied cheeks from her tears. Kaneki slowed in his tracks and touka looked down to his hunched form, a sad frown on her pale face. He lifted an arm and reached out for her, but she flinched back.

She flinched.

“Touka.” Kaneki said again, his voice pained as he watched her step back with her arms hugging her stomach, her face turned away from his. “Touka, look at me…Please.”

She didn’t even offer a single response as she shut her eyes and took another step back, her arms tightened around her. Kaneki’s heart started to slam against his chest, his hand shaking as he opened his mouth. His eyes became teary and his lips quivered before he fell defeated onto his knees.

So this was his fate. The price he had to pay.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, his eyes wide as the tears streamed down his cheeks. “I…didn’t want it to be like this. All I wanted was to see you again. That was all I needed. I had to survive, for you and for everyone and then…All of this happened. Why did this have to happen?”

His words started to mix with sobs as he lowered his head into his hands and his nails dug into his cold skin and clawed against his face. All the while, he continued to beg for touka, who could only stare down at him as he broke apart, piece by piece with a look of concern and pity.

She looked down to her blood soaked body, the screams of the weaker ghouls that she tried so hard to protect haunted her mind relentlessly and the images were still fresh and clear in her scarred mind. No, forgiveness wasn’t possible. The man she once loved was now tainted and broken beyond recognition and that was probably the hardest fact to accept.

And yet…

His voice was still his, his gentle eyes were still there and despite all the damage, it was still kaneki. The man she fell hopelessly in love with. She wavered slightly, unsure whether to approach him. Every time she looked at him, those images came back into her mind, but at the same time, his desperate voice continued to plead for her. Her heart was conflicted and there was a sense of hopelessness that came with all of this.

“Kaneki.” Though her voice was hushed, kaneki paused, looking up to his wife through the gap inbetween his fingers that remained over his face. She winced at his appearance and averted her eyes, her heart suddenly racing. “What you did…This isn’t something I can simply overlook.”

Kaneki shivered somewhat violently at her words, but she knew she had to press on. For both of them.

“I don’t know if I can even bring myself to forgive you.” She grimaced and took a hesitated step towards her crouched husband and kneeled down. “But…but I know that wasn’t you. I know that deep down, there’s still the man I love. I can’t forgive you, but maybe I could-”

Suddenly, she was pulled into an embrace with kaneki and he clung onto her tightly, his face buried into the crook of her neck and for a moment, touka felt almost suffocated at his cold touch with a chill that ran through her. However, she forced herself to wrap her arms around him and accepted him.

“Touka.” He whimpered. “Don’t leave me.”

She sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his head, her fingers brushing through his hair. After all that he had done, deep down, he was still the young, afraid boy she once knew. It almost seemed like nothing had changed at all.

What she didn’t notice, however, was his kagune that emerged from behind and started to wrap itself around kaneki’s body.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She held him closer to her and could almost feel his rapid heartbeat against hers. “I promise.”

“You promise?” Kaneki asked, but before she could answer, a sharp pain erupted form her shoulder. Her eyes shot up and the pain deepened as she felt kaneki’s teeth sink into her flesh.

“Kaneki?” She gasped desperately as she tried to pull back, but kaneki refused to let go and pinned her down roughly, pulling away a large chunk of flesh from her shoulder and swallowed greedily.

“You won’t leave me.” He drawled as touka watched his kagune begin to wrap around his crazed eyes. “We will be together, as one.”

She tried to struggle beneath his grip but his hold on her only tightened as he bit into her again. She screamed loudly, but it seemed fruitless to do so at this point. He was already gone.

“Please stop.” She breathed, her words lost on the man she could no longer call her husband. “Kaneki, please.”

However, his kagune only continued to grow and his words became nothing more than garbled ramblings.

“Touka. Touka. Touka. I did this for you. I want to be with you. Can I see you again? I hope so. Touka. Touka.”

Her screams became louder with every bite as his head lowered to her stomach. No. Not there. Anywhere but there.

“Kaneki, you son of a bitch.” She snarled. “Get the fuck off me. Please…stop.”

But he didn’t.

With each bite he took, touka’s screaming began to fade into weak cries for help. She refused to listen to him, refused to accept that it was him because it wasn’t. Right now, all she could see was a monstrous beast. That and nothing more.

“Is this is how it ends?” Touka sobbed as she felt the monster’s hands plunge into her stomach. She bit her lip hard and tried to ignore the sound of her skin tearing apart. “I’m sorry, my baby. I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t protect you or your father. This is how it ends…”

This is how it ends…

….

Kaneki awoke with his mind hazy and vague, like a dense fog had passed over him. Confused, he pulled himself up to find himself in a dark alleyway and when he looked down, he noticed dried blood coated over his hands.

This scent…

It was familiar.

“Touka?”

[elizabethenroute-blog]

Coming face-to-face with the refugee crisis

Living so close to the Brenner Pass, it was inevitable that I was going to come into contact with the refugee crisis at some point this year. However, I never thought that it would genuinely involve me.

Last week there was a parent-teacher day at school, which meant I got the day off. Making the most of this free time, I got on the train and casually popped over the border to Innsbruck for a bit of exploring (and shopping!). It was my first time benefitting from Schengen, and I loved it. I got on the train, halfway through the journey a police officer popped his head into the carriage and asked to see my passport, he handed it back, and I carried on my merry way.

On the way back, I had to change at Brenner and had a half an hour wait. I was surrounded by snow that must have been at least ankle deep, so made it my mission to find some form of warmth in the form of a waiting room.  When I got there, I saw there were three Alpini (Italian army soldiers) waiting in there as well. This is nothing unusual, you see the odd soldier on most days around here, and I was stood at the nearest Italian train station to the Austrian border, after all.

It wasn’t until I sat down that I realised there were two more people in this room; a Muslim woman and a man about my age who appeared to be her son. The soldiers were attempting (and I mean attempting) to question this pair in English, but to no avail. I realised the best thing I could do was keep my head down, so I buried my nose in my Facebook newsfeed at the earliest opportunity.

After a couple of minutes, one of the soldiers started to make his way over to me. My first thought was that he was going to ask me to leave, but no. In Italian, he asked me if I spoke German. I responded yes, I did. He asked me if I understood Italian. Again, I said that I could. Then, he asked me if I could translate for them. This definitely wasn’t included in any of the millions of university pre-departure talks or handouts.

I tried my best. I’ve done English-Italian and English-German translation before, it’s one of the core parts of my degree, but I’d never had to completely get rid of my mother tongue and try to go back and forth between my two weaker languages. Nevertheless, I persevered, with one of the Italian soldiers feeding me questions, which I would then have to translate into German for the lady. She would respond to me, and I’d have to turn that into Italian for the soldiers to continue.

It’s only describable as an incredible experience. I physically felt myself block the English part of my brain, and for the next half an hour, my only thoughts were German or Italian. Just at the point when I was wondering if this whole year abroad thing was actually doing my languages any good. 

I don’t know where they were from, but my first guess was Syria. The woman told me that she’d been living in Germany for the past three years. Her son had now come over, and she was trying to get back to Germany with him, but due to him having the wrong kind of passport and the current political atmosphere in Europe, they’d ended up stuck in Brenner.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not naïve and I do understand both sides of the debate. If we didn’t accept anyone, it would be a catastrophe, genocide. If we accepted every single person who washed up on European shores, then it’s inevitable that the odd mentally-unstable extremist would be in the mix. However, it wasn’t until I met this woman that I realised how blind I’d been to the whole situation.

Britain has some of the best border defences in the whole world. Not because of how many patrols we have or how much money we spend on defence, but because we’re a bloody island. We’re automatically given an advantage over a lot of nations when it comes to who we do and don’t let in, simply because they can’t just walk over! As a result, my own opinions about the refugee crisis have been able to sit above the clouds. I’d watch the 10pm news, think “oh dear, how tragic”, and then carry on with my life. I might have donated a coat here or there, but the situation never once affected my day-to-day life.

After meeting this poor lady and her son last week, I can’t get them out of my head. If you saw the blankness in their eyes, the numbness, you would know that they had seen things no person should ever have to experience. You would ask yourself why the hell hadn’t we let more of these people in? She explained to me that neither the Italian nor the Austrian authorities wanted to deal with them, so they were simply being bumped back and forth across the border. Once, when they arrived in Austria, they’d taken her son in for questioning, taken his fingerprints, photographed him, and sent him and his mother straight back into Italy with no explanation.

She (because I don’t even know her name!) asked me what she was supposed to do. I relayed the question to the soldiers, and they said that they couldn’t stay in Italy, they just had to get on the next train to Austria. The only way they could have stayed in Italy would have been to declare asylum, but you have to do that in the first country you arrive in, and that wouldn’t have allowed the pair to continue to Germany.

The awful thing is that they were so close! From Innsbruck to Munich it’s just two hours on the train. Just two hours. Yet every time they arrived in Austria they were sent backwards.

I’m sorry that this blog doesn’t contain my usual lightheartedness or film metaphors. I do want to be able to give this a happy ending, but the fact is I don’t know the ending. The lady and her son were put on the next train to Austria, and were told they would be able to get to Germany that way. I don’t know if they eventually got there, or whether they were bounced back again. I got on my own train and headed back into the Puster Valley.

When I got to work the next day, I told some of the other English teachers about my experience, and they weren’t surprised at all. This lady and her son were in no means the first, or the last, to arrive in Brenner in that situation.

I’ve been left with a lot of questions and not many answers. You can call me too liberal, too sensitive. Maybe I should just mind my own business. But the fact is that if Britain had been torn apart by political disarray, war and extremism, I’d pray every second of every day that other countries would help.

Until next time,

Beth ❤️

[works-of-evection-blog]

I was a product tester for an app similar to Uber. Part 2.

Part 1

I can’t begin to explain the strangeness that we all felt, sipping coffee together in my little kitchen at almost 3 in the morning. Norman, Dean and myself would have most likely never met in real life if it weren’t for this app and here we all were, sharing coffee, drinking in silence. Nobody dared to speak. I think we all felt like the first person to talk would appear guilty of something. I’ll be honest – I’ve seen enough horror flicks in my time to know not to trust them. I just wished I could.

I was the first to break the silence, as I wanted to develop some trust. What I said was pretty dumb, because it made a divide, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to be honest. “Okay guys, I have to admit something to you. This isn’t about being ‘in’ on anything, I was serious when I said I don’t know anything. Did you guys…seriously only get those gift cards for doing this?”

They both nodded, Dean eyeing me with more and more suspicion.

“Well, my acceptance form told me that I’d be paid $1,000 cash for completing the product test.” “What?!” Dean scoffed, “A grand?! Okay now I’m even MORE convinced-“ “Dean, I’m telling you this because I’m WORRIED. I know all I have is my word but I don’t want to hide anything from you guys. We’re all involved in this and three minds are better than one, okay?”

As soon as I finished talking, their phones went off again. The pit of my stomach lurched as they read the notification. “It’s saying you’re lying again.” Norman looked up at me, looking torn. “Alright, I’ll prove it.” Defiantly I went to grab my laptop, coming back and putting it on the countertop. I opened my emails and showed them my email correspondence with Tom. “See for yourself, these are the only emails I’ve exchanged with them.” Norman turned to me, “Cherie, I really want to believe you, I really do. But this, this doesn’t exactly prove anything, apart from the fact that they offered you money.” 

I was getting frustrated, “Okay Norman, but at this point I’m the only one trying to put some of these fucked up pieces together so we can all go home and never see each other again!” “What’s stopping us from going home?” Norman blinked at Dean’s words. He had a perfect point. “Seriously, so far, all this app has done is spook us. The vague directions, that countdown…and there’s obviously spyware installed into the app, considering the messages accusing you of lying.” “Huh, you’re perfectly right. Then that also means that someone is definitely listening to us right now as well.” “Yeah, they’re listening, you assholes,” Dean made sure to get real close to his mic to say that, “Well done guys. Your little experiment or whatever was quite clever. Thanks for the gift card, I’m going home.”

Dean started gathering his jacket, and I kind of felt a little better. He was right, the test had freaked us out, but we had never been in any real danger or felt unsafe at any point. At that moment, Norman’s phone lit up. He quickly read the message and turned to Dean. “Uhh, Dean?” “Mmhm.” “So uh, my car’s still where we left it when you picked us up.” Dean released the biggest ‘tsk’ from his mouth, “I don’t owe you shit bro. Get a fucking Uber, at least that shit’s legit. I’m sick of this. I’m going.” Norman received another notification as Dean headed towards the door. He swiftly read it and jumped up after Dean. “Yeah I get it but like, c’mon man. You agreed to do this thing can you please just drive me back to my car?” I glanced down at Norman’s phone. “Convince Dean to drive you to your car.” “Try harder.”

This was getting ridiculous. “Hey, Norman, forget about Dean. Let’s delete the app and I’ll take you to your car.” Dean walked out and shut the door behind him, leaving me and Norman in my apartment. I watched him glance down at his phone again, and look towards the door, weighing his options. “You’re not inclined to follow instructions from an app. C’mon, the sooner we go, the sooner we can head to our own beds.” Norman seemed to relax a little. He grabbed his phone and I grabbed my car keys. Once we got into the car, I received a new message. “Oh shit, what now?”

“Good luck finding Norman’s car without a route. We hope your memory is good.” BING “And don’t even think about deleting the app.”

These messages weren’t surprising, however I felt inclined to be weary and do as I was told, no matter how stupid that sounded. Different types of fear make you weaker or stronger, I believe. This growing fear induced weakness in me. Norman appeared to be a soft soul in general, and I could feel the fear welling up inside him with each passing minute. “C’mon, let’s try and retrace our steps.”

We drove back through the city, following the same route I remember Norman taking the first time, however the gleeful conversation we shared was missing this time around. “Okay, I’m just barely recognising things out here, is anything ringing any bells for you?” “Umm….ooh, yes, that park, we drove past this. Then I’m pretty sure I turned down here.”

We drove slowly for about 10 minutes, and eventually, we turned down the right street. I could see Norman’s tension subside as his car came into view, untouched. I pulled up next to his car and let him out. “Hey, thank you, Cherie. Tonight’s been…well, strange. Take care of yourself, okay?” I smiled, and told him I would. “Oh and, do you think it would be a good idea to exchange numbers? You know, just in case?” I thought for a moment, and decided it couldn’t hurt. We exchanged digits, and went our separate ways. By the time I got home, I flopped into bed immediately and managed to enjoy a decent sleep that morning, free from any unwanted phone notifications. ______________________________________________________________

It was, in fact, a knock at the door that startled me the next morning. I was still wearing my clothes from the night before, so I simply got up and walked over, looking quite like death. To my surprise, Dean stood on my doorstep. “Huh-“ before I could even string together a reaction I locked on to his bloodshot eyes and very pale face. His eyes were bulging and emitted a kind of shock I’d never seen in real life before. “Dean…?” “I uh..I deleted the app when I got home.” Why did I feel like I was about to hear something very, very bad? “Oh, right, yeah. I didn’t get around to it,” suddenly Dean grabbed my arms tightly, “DON’T DELETE IT.” His eyes. Oh my God his eyes. “Ouch! Okay hang on,” I pulled him inside and shut my front door, “What the fuck’s happened?”

Dean simply stood there, shaking and looking around the room. “Norman.” “What about Norman…Dean?” “Um. Oh God. Cherie we need to go to the police.” “Tell me what happened!” He was intensely shook. He couldn’t string sentences together, he could only stand and wring his hands. “Sit down, have you slept?” He shook his head. I heard my phone ping from the other room. Dean’s eyes shot towards me. He seemed to be pleading to me not to check it, but if he wasn’t going to speak, then I needed to see what this was. I strode across the room and read the notification. “Get Dean to show you.”

I turned and walked out slowly. “Dean…what do they want you to show me?” He was trying to hold himself together, I could see it. Slowly, his breathing calmed a little and he seemed to gain some composure. After one huge exhale, Dean stood up and said, “Come on. I’ll show you.” Through clenched teeth. I wasn’t sure whether to be as scared as he was or not, but I needed to see, I needed to know. Before he reached the front door he turned to me, “Cherie, I don’t trust you, and what you’re about to see is definitely not going to make you trust me. But I need you to help me figure this shit out. I’m really fucking scared.” So was I, Dean, so was I.

He had parked in the visitor’s section of my apartment building. He looked around, checking for passers by. “Hmm, I can’t show you here. It’s way too risky. Look, I don’t like the idea as much as you don’t, but my place is only a 5 minute drive away and I’ll feel more secure in my garage.” I wouldn’t argue with his fear, “Okay, lets go.” The drive was horrible. Every second was making my heart pound against my sternum until my chest felt raw. I couldn’t stand not knowing. Why couldn’t he tell me? What was he about to show me that shook him up so bad? We arrived quickly and pulled in to his garage. Once parked, Dean seemed to stop and reflect for a passing moment. “Alright. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry for all this.” “Just get to it.” He got out of the car and I followed suit. Walking to the boot of his car, I felt my whole body tremble. Each step towards the boot was like forcing my feet through mud pits. I was almost certain my legs would give at one point. I got there, and simply said, “Show me.” Dean opened the trunk. What I saw drained everything out of me.

Norman. He lay in Dean’s trunk. His eyes were gone and all of his fingers seemed to be broken. I couldn’t look away. I surveyed the mess as if it were spilled wine. You know how something shocks your system so much, your brain decides that ‘now isn’t the time to take this in’? I think that’s exactly what happened to me. Just as I urged my body to turn away, I heard the unmistakeable vibration of a phone. I looked at Dean, Dean looked at me. We checked our phones and realised it wasn’t coming from us. Dean then turned to Norman, looking pained.

“It must be his phone. It must be in here somewhere. Ugh, fuck. I can’t.” The buzzing continued. It was all I could hear. Filling my brain with fear and threats, life and death. “PLEASE MAKE IT STOP.” “OKAY, okay, okay. Oh God…” Dean slowly leaded in and started checking Norman’s pockets. When the phone wasn’t there, he punched the side of the truck. “FUCK THIS.” “It’s gotta be in here somewhere. It won’t fucking stop.” That was when I noticed a slight, rectangular bulge under his shirt. “His…stomach, Dean! It’s under his shirt!” I gingerly lifted up his shirt.

Well, the phone was there. It wasn’t under his shirt though, it was under his skin. It looked like someone had just cut a pocket into his lower abdomen and slid his phone into it. They’d done a bad job of stitching the cut back up – the blood was still fresh. To think this guy walked out of my apartment that same morning…

“Norman…” I felt sad and guilty. The phone still buzzed. “Dean,” I said in my quietest voice, “please, I can’t do this.” “AND YOU THINK I CAN?” “JUST DO SOMETHING. IT WON’T STOP OTHERWISE.” Dean seemed to do that thing again where he exhaled and composed himself – I wished I could do the same. “I’ll be back.” He returned with tongs and scissors. “Okay, you can either cut the stiches, or pull the phone out.” “Stitches, please, Jesus.” I made quick work of them, after about 3 minutes of trying to control my shaking hands. It was Dean who suffered the worst. After inserting the tongs and grabbing hold of the phone, a fresh gush of blood spilled out of Norman’s body as he pulled it out. His trunk was ruined, soaked in Norman’s blood. I grabbed a tea towel and frantically wiped down the phone until the screen became legible. “Don’t delete the app. Don’t call the police. Get rid of the body.”

Dean got up and slammed the trunk shut. There was blood on our hands. Real blood on our hands. Because of this fucking nightmare app. Dean seemed to read my mind. He knelt down by my side, and gave me a serious look. “They’ve made it clear that this isn’t harmless anymore. We’ve already come this far. We’re either going to die or going to jail.”

Read Part 3