#but like god even if you manage to warp his character enough i mean um find ways around that for ship purposes. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xpouii · 5 years ago

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Tentacletober Day 20

It’s finally here! Part three of my Intrulogical series starting with Day 6 and continued in Day 13. Things get a little dramatic--and even more shamelessly sexy this time around. I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Established Tentacle Relationship

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Remus, Deceit, Patton, Virgil, Roman, Thomas

Warnings/Tags: NSFW, Exhibitionism, swearing, shouting, crying, moral quandaries, unrequited love, bit of awkward romance, sympathetic Remus, Sympathetic Deceit, full NSFW tags under the cut!

NSFW Tags: Deepthroating, gagging, mild dubcon sort of but not really, biting, two dicks/hemipenis, cum marking, facial, choking. Enjoy!

The kitchen was full of the pleasant smells of coffee and bacon; Logan had made breakfast—mostly to keep Remus from burning down the kitchen. They were sitting together at the table, enjoying one another’s quirky company. Logan had foregone breakfast for coffee, and Remus ate unsurprisingly quickly between ramblings about his idea for a new horror movie. Logan let him talk, stopping occasionally to correct him for anatomical inconsistencies, and by the time Remus had finished eating they were well on their way to a fairly impressive body horror piece. It wasn’t long, though, before Remus got antsy, “So you’re not going to eat anything?”

Logan grunted noncommittally, taking another swallow of coffee, “I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” Remus said. “Because I do have something for you, if you are. It’s your favorite.”

Logan looked up and raised an eyebrow as Remus grinned, wide and clever like the Cheshire cat, “Are you referring to your penis?”

“I am,” Remus said. “Interested?”

Logan glanced to the clock. They had almost an hour before Patton would be awake, and even longer before anyone else would come looking. He cleared his throat as if thinking about it, finishing off his coffee. He pushed his chair back, then slid below the kitchen table. Remus snickered and scooted his own chair up further against the table. He spread his knees a bit and his hand went to his belt, but Logan pushed them away, taking over. It was a fun game of self-denial for Remus to keep his hands—and eyes—above the table while below, Logan had managed to free his cock and was currently acquainting every inch of it with his tongue. Remus closed his eyes but jumped and straightened when Deceit strolled into the kitchen, “Morning.”

“Oh! Hey Dee!” Remus said cheerily, wrapping his legs around Logan’s torso to keep him from retreating. “You’re out and about awfully early.”

“Well it was quiet downstairs,” Deceit said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Didn’t seem sensible to make an entire pot of coffee for myself.”

“Logan always does,” Remus said. “He loves having something hot in his mouth.”

Deceit sat down in Logan’s chair and scooted up, stopping when his foot collided with Logan; he raised an eyebrow then sighed, “He’s under the table. Wonderful, there goes my appetite.”

“Morning!” Patton called as he stepped inside.

Logan choked lightly on Remus’ cock and the creative side feigned a cough to cover it, “Patton! You’re awake early!”

“Well I was hungry so I thought instead of laying in bed thinking about food I might as well get up for the day and head down,” Patton said. “Wednesday is usually cold cereal day but I’m having oatmeal!”

“What’s life without whimsy?” Deceit said with a smirk at Remus.

“So I’m surprised to see you here together,” Patton said as he went about making his breakfast. “You two don’t usually come to the kitchen very much… well I guess you have been Remus… never without-“

Patton was interrupted by the microwave and he retrieved his oatmeal, sitting down at the table, “That smells divine,” Deceit said. “Flavor?”

“Um… apple cinnamon,” Patton said, testing the temperature by tapping the spoon to his lips then taking a bite. “Mm hits the spot doesn’t it?”

Patton scooted up and Deceit threw his legs over Logan’s back, pulling him in a bit to keep Patton from kicking him. “I’m sure it does. I’m afraid my metabolism wouldn’t let me live it down if I had much for breakfast, isn’t that right Remus?”

Remus’ eyes opened from where they’d drifted shut as Logan swallowed around him, “Hm? Oh, yes of course, breakfast, goes right to your ass.”

Deceit gave Remus a glare but Patton sighed, “Oh Remus don’t say that. Deceit’s body is beautiful and perfect! Don’t bodyshame. It’s mean.”

“Sorry Patton,” Remus moaned softly, slapping a hand over his mouth and pretending to yawn as Logan let out an overwhelmed moan around Remus’ cock.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you finished up and sank out?” Deceit said through his teeth. “I’m sure you have a lot to do in your room.”

“Almost,” Remus said, unwilling to give up the sharp zap of lust he was getting from speaking to Patton while Logan swallowed his cock under the table. “So close.”

Virgil came in then and both of the dark sides went still and quiet; Patton looked up with a bright smile, “Good morning, kiddo.”

Virgil gave a little wave, scowling at the other two and walking to the cupboard for a glass. He turned around and dropped the glass; it shattered, glass skittering across the floor just as Remus came and Logan pushed off his cock to sputter and gag, getting most of the ill-gotten release on his face. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Virgil shouted.

Patton quickly pushed back from the table and saw the scene below, screaming and jumping to his feet, “Oh no oh gosh oh no!”

Deceit sighed, “You really should have just left when I told you, Remus.”

“Well I was having fun!” Remus whined, tucking himself back in his pants and scooting back to help Logan up. “Sorry Moonbeam.”

Logan took off his glasses and waved off Remus’ attempt to lean in and lick them clean. “It’s quite alright we just misjudged our window of privacy.”

Virgil stomped past them, his boots crunching in the glass as he shoved his way around Patton, “EVERYBODY IN THE LIVINGROOM NOW!”

“Oh goodie,” Deceit muttered, handing Logan a handkerchief. “Clean your face before we get dragged out in front of Thomas.”

Logan nodded and quickly cleaned up as that familiar tug in the back of his mind pulled. The other two vanished, and he managed to fight it long enough to extirpate the handkerchief and fix his tie before he rose up in his usual spot. Thomas was standing with his shoes in his hand, glancing at the door, “Uh, Virgil, you do remember I have to be at-“

“That doesn’t matter!” Virgil interrupted. “Logan and Remus were fornicating in the kitchen this morning!”

“Great Odin’s tube socks why!?” Roman shouted, covering his eyes. “Do you have to say it out loud like that where the rest of us have to hear it, Virgil!?”

“Yes perhaps some discretion would be appropriate,” Logan said.

Patton was dumbfounded, wringing his hands and staring at the floor; he couldn’t stop thinking about the violation of having the deed happening mere feet away from him while he chatted with Deceit like an idiot. He whimpered and covered his eyes with his hands, shaking his head. Remus, for his part, did look a bit sheepish, likely only because Deceit had been scolding him when they popped up. “This is all very upsetting for everyone,” Roman said. “Mayhaps we could all just pretend it never happened and move on with our lives?”

“I don’t think so. Somebody’s gonna answer for what I had to see in that kitchen!” Virgil said, his voice warped and deepened by stress.

“Should I fetch my bowtie? Are we going back to the courtroom?” Deceit muttered from his spot between the brothers.

“Nobody invited you, Deceit!” Thomas said.

“I did,” Virgil said. “He was there! He was involved!”

“A dear friend of mine is on trial; of course I’m going to show up,” Deceit said, ignoring Virgil.

“Nobody is on trial here,” Logan said calmly.

“You’re right!” Virgil snapped, “Because we’re way past judge and jury at this point!”

Deceit sighed, “And that leaves executioner. Logan, don’t let logic cloud your reasoning. This is a trial, or perhaps more accurately, a witch trial.”

“Thomas can’t afford to have his Logic corrupted by-“

“Corrupted.” Deceit sneered. “You three may think you need to wear mud boots when you come to the subconscious but I assure that—despite Remus’ best efforts—I keep it very clean and organized downstairs.”

“This isn’t helping,” Thomas said. “Logan, please, you have to know how this looks!”

Logan folded his arms, “Thomas, I thought we’d been through this. Remus isn’t dangerous to you anymore than the rest of us. Too much of anything is dangerous, but worrying about me being corrupted is baseless and hypervigilant. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Fuck you, Logan!” Virgil snapped. “You’re just dick-crazy and you have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Language!” Patton squeaked. “Can we please keep this civil?!”

“Nothing short of an apology on his knees is gonna make this go away, Pat,” Virgil said. “Logan betrayed us—on his knees!”

“Virgil don’t be ridiculous,” Logan said. “You’re acting like a child.”

“I caught you blowing him under the kitchen table! Patton was sitting two feet away! We eat there!”

“Virgil please I’m getting lightheaded!” Patton said, covering his ears.

Roman sighed, “Can I just say I’m incredibly uncomfortable with the subject matter too? Can I just duck out please?”

“No!” Virgil said. “We have to be a united front!”

“It wasn’t my intention to engage in any exhibitionism,” Logan said. “In my defense the kitchen was empty when we started, and Patton came in half an hour earlier than usual.”

Thomas winced, “Oh god I don’t think I need to hear this either. It explains the… weird dreams I’ve been having lately.”

“I’m not in charge of dreams,” Remus said.

“N-no that was me,” Roman said with a blush. “Sorry about that. The new season of the Bachelorette has been a little intense.”

“You see Thomas? Blaming everything sexual that happens in your mind on Remus is not only naïve, it’s rude.”

“Oh I don’t mind rude,” Remus said. “I’ve kind of developed a persona around it, you know.”

Deceit rolled his eyes, “So are we going to burn Remus at the stake or learn to be adults and mind our own business, Virgil?”

“When one of my friends is doing his job with a cum-addled brain I have a right to take issue!”

Patton and Thomas both whined, “Ok Virgil seriously Patton’s gonna pass out!” Thomas scolded.

Logan’s hands curled into fists and he spoke through his teeth, “You have no right to complain about the quality of my work. I am always professional and I would never let something as trivial as… as semen affect my job! Just this morning I stopped you from convincing Thomas to go to the doctor after he hiccuped and sneezed at the same time because you decided he had brain cancer!”

“He might have it!” Virgil said. “And this isn’t about me!”

“It’s about all of you,” Thomas said. “Is this… is this the first time any of you have… have hooked up like this?”

Roman glanced nervously at Deceit, turning a bit red, but the snake interjected, “If I may, Thomas? You’re going to be much happier if you retract that question immediately and live in blissful ignorance.”

“Ok never mind,” Thomas said. “Just… I want to hear from everybody… Patton?”

Patton was picking at a loose thread on his cardigan; he looked up at Logan and frowned. “Logan… I know you don’t feel anything for Remus… I just can’t understand.”

“You don’t know what I feel, Patton,” Logan said. “I… would rather not discuss it publicly, but to suggest our relationship is merely physical… well would be incorrect.”

Patton gasped softly, but only Deceit heard the tiny intake of air, “You… have feelings for him?”

“I do.”

“You do?” Remus asked, hand on his heart. “Really, Moonbeam?”

“That is disgusting!” Virgil shouted, “Thomas, wh-“

“Shush Virgil I wanna hear this,” Thomas said, waving him off as he leaned in.

Virgil growled and sunk out; Roman winced, “I’ll… I’ll go talk to him.”

Once Roman was gone Logan continued, “Yes, Remus, really. I’m not good at expressing myself. I know that, and you know that… but I have deep, complex feelings for you that I’d rather not unpack right now, or maybe ever.”

Remus’ face broke into a grin, “Oh Moonbeam I love you too!”

Thomas stared at them for a moment then threw his hands up, “Ok, alright, fine. If you actually want this, and this is… this is real then I couldn’t forgive myself if I got in the middle. As long as you—both of you—promise to keep doing your jobs the same as ever then—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—you have my blessing.”

“Very good Thomas,” Deceit said. “And I’m being sarcastic. You’re so mature.”

Thomas looked over baffled but Logan cleared his throat, “Ignore him, and… thank you Thomas. Although I have a tenuous relationship with right and wrong, I appreciate your support.”

“You’re welcome, Logan. I meant what I said, though. Don’t let Virgil catch you slipping.”

Logan smiled, and once Remus had sunk into the floor, he followed, leaving Patton and Deceit alone with Thomas. “Well,” Patton said softly. “This was… very different.”

“Yeah… I’m headed out for the day,” Thomas said. “Are you ok, Pat?”

Patton nodded, closing his eyes, “Shaken up but I’ll be alright, Thomas. Have fun, kiddo.”

Thomas sat to put on his shoes, and Deceit followed Patton into the mindscape, “You don’t look so good, Daddy.”

Patton shrugged and forced a little half smile as he stepped into the kitchen, walking to the sink, “I’m fine, Deceit. Just um… dishes need doing, right?”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s important unless it comforts you,” Deceit said as Patton turned on the water. “I’m all for avoidance when it has a purpose but I think a good dose of the truth might set you free.”

The white noise of the sink running stretched out a few long seconds before it was shattered, figuratively and literally by Patton dropping a plate to the floor. He spun around, tears running down his cheeks, “Why didn’t he pick me, Deceit? I thought I had more time! I was… I was flirting, a little. Logan’s so closed off. I was taking my time.”

Deceit cooed as he stepped forward, hands on Patton’s shoulders, “There there, dear heart. Sometimes love doesn’t turn out how we want it to, does it? It’s going to be alright.”

Patton leaned forward and cried into Deceit’s chest, feeling the comforting pressure of Deceit’s hands spread down his arms and around his back—more than just two hands, and Patton sank fully against him, “Thank you.”

“That’s quite alright,” Deceit said. “You know, I can empathize with your predicament. I spend a lot of time alone now too.”

Patton blushed as he took half a step back, and Deceit let him, releasing him completely, “Deceit I… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but… I’m upset, and lonely and very very confused. Would you please touch me?”

Deceit was surprised at first, then the look melted into a subdued smile, “Of course sweetheart. But, unlike Logan, let’s not get caught with our hands in the cookie jar, hm?”

“My room?” Patton offered.

“How about the subconscious,” Deceit said. “In the imagination. Roman and Remus are busy. We’ll have the place to ourselves and it’s neutral ground.”

“Deal,” Patton said, his cheeks turning red as Deceit took his hand.

The subconscious was quiet, dark and it gave off an unmistakable feeling of security, secrecy. It would have made Patton a little uncomfortable, but it was exactly what he wanted now. He followed Deceit into the imagination, inhaling the fresh air of the little forested path they stepped onto. “Don’t worry,” Deceit said. “We don’t have to rough it.”

Patton giggled and let Deceit lead him up along the hillside until they came across a small cluster of cottages. “Does anyone live here?”

“Not often,” Deceit said. “Remus likes to use the place when he plays giant monsters so it’s abandoned unless he’s rampaging through it. Come on.”

They ducked into a well-furnished, clean cozy cottage and Patton couldn’t help but sigh happily, “It’s so cute in here.”

“Not nearly as cute as you,” Deceit said. “But that’s an unfair standard isn’t it? Is there anything in the entire mindscape as cute as you?”

Patton blushed deeply and bit his bottom lip, “Maybe you?”

Deceit laughed and pulled Patton into a sweet kiss. It lingered, then it deepened, and Deceit pulled Patton against him, teasing his forked tongue against Patton’s full, soft lips. Patton relinquished, parting his lips and moaning around the sweet intrusion. He untied his cardigan and tossed it aside, untucking his shirt from his khakis as Deceit swallowed away his soft sounds. Deceit took over then, hands going to Patton’s belt and unbuckling it, sliding it slowly—maddeningly so—out of its loops.

Deceit broke the kiss and Patton’s breath came out shallow and quick; he held onto Deceit so he could step out of his shoes, his legs already a bit trembly. “Is there a bedroom?”

Deceit swept Patton up into his arms and carried him into the small bedroom, laying him down on the bed. His expression was a mixture of lust and sadness that Deceit was determined to kiss away. He leaned in and their lips met again. Patton wrapped his arms around Deceit’s neck, taking every ounce of comfort he was offered until he had to break, sucking in a breath as Deceit’s lips moved to his neck. He fumbled with Deceit’s capelet, pushing it off and gently removing his hat before he set his focus on Deceit’s gloves. The kisses on his neck turned to gentle bites as he pulled the gloves off and interlaced their fingers, tracing the soft, smooth scales along Deceit’s knuckles with his fingertips. Deceit sucked a deep mark over Patton’s pulse point, humming pleasantly when Patton gasped and arched up against him, “Deceit.”

“Yes darling?” the snake muttered against Patton’s neck.

“Please,” Patton whispered. When Deceit pulled back and met his gaze, his eyes were wide and burning with lust undeniable. “Please I want more.”

Deceit chuckled, “Of course, my dear. All you ever have to do is ask.”

Patton released Deceit’s hands and moved to unbutton Deceit’s shirt, “May I?”

Deceit shrugged the open shirt off of his shoulders and sat back on his knees when Patton raised up on his elbows, “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Patton kissed Deceit again, then trailed kisses along his jaw and down to his left shoulder, tracing the complex pattern of scales that moved over Deceit’s modest musculature with his tongue. He closed his eyes and practically purred, not used the touch of a hand, much less something so eagerly intimate on the part of his body that usually drove people away, “They’re so beautiful,” Patton said. “You know that.”

Deceit rolled his eyes but he was smiling, “Easy there, my dear. If a snake finds somewhere warm they never leave.”

Patton smiled and pulled his shirt off, laying back flat on the bed, “Maybe that’s ok.”

Deceit bit his bottom lip and kissed Patton, a little more forceful this time as he undid the other’s pants, pulling them down and off with slow, practiced movements. Patton was a bit more clumsy, but endearingly so as he relieved Deceit of his pants, giggling when his fingers found bare skin instead of the underwear he expected. Deceit let his fingertips play over Patton’s stomach, eliciting a stifled giggle as the other side shrank under his ticklish attention. “Deceit!” he panted, taking off his glasses and setting them on the little rustic nightstand.

“Ticklish?” Deceit rumbled, kissing down Patton’s chest.

“W-wait,” Patton panted, and Deceit did as asked, looking up at him. “I… want to see you. Don’t run away.”

“I’m not going far,” Deceit said, but Patton’s expression gave him pause, and he moved back up, touching his face. “Alright, I’m here.”

Patton smiled as his heart skipped, and he reached down between them, barely giving Deceit time to flinch before his palm found the reason for their little dance of avoidance. He met Deceit’s gaze, “Are you alright?”

Deceit cleared his throat, trying to keep his eloquence intact with Patton’s hand wrapped around his cocks. “I’m used to being a man with secrets.”

Patton smiled, kissing his nose, “I want every inch of you.”

Deceit’s heart fluttered and his cocks jumped in Patton’s hand, “Maybe not both the first time, but I’m willing to give it a go.”

Patton blushed and giggled, turning his face away into the pillow under his head, his mirth turning into a soft moan as Deceit kissed his neck, thrusting into his hand, “I want you, Deceit. Please?”

“You needn’t ask twice,” Deceit said, reaching down to remove Patton’s underwear. He conjured a bottle of lube with a smirk that made Patton hide his blushing face again. He applied a generous amount to his fingers and situated himself between Patton’s legs, lifting his hips gently and dragging one of the pillows down to help prop him up. “Say it again, darling. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Patton whimpered. “You inside me, please.”

Deceit smiled and teased Patton with his fingertips before sliding the first one in, slow and gentle until Patton relaxed, ready for a second. Patton squirmed and whimpered as Deceit sought out his prostate, pressing against it with his fingertips until Patton cried out. He slipped his fingers free and helped Patton roll onto his side, “Are you ready?”

Patton nodded, biting his bottom lip and closing his eyes, “I’m ready Deceit please… please make love to me.”

Deceit wanted to tell Patton he wasn’t sure he knew how to do anything involving love, but he bit his forked tongue, and gently moved into position, pulling Patton’s top leg around his waist, opening him up. He exhaled a slow, even breath as he pressed into Patton. The moral side moaned out, his mouth falling open as his hands fisted into the soft patterned quilt beneath him. Deceit moved slowly, holding himself in place once he’d bottomed out, until Patton squirmed beneath him, hips rocking in an obvious request. Deceit smiled to himself and pulled out before thrusting back in, not as gentle as perhaps he should have been, but he wasn’t Roman after all. His romance wasn’t to be taken completely at face value, but the sounds Patton made were unmistakable confirmation that he wasn’t bothered by Deceit’s firm hand—and firmer cocks.

Patton kept his face hidden, and the half Deceit could see was burning bright red, but it wasn’t long before his hand was slipping down between them to wrap around their cocks and stroke them, gentle and slow at first but quickly picking up the pace as the urgency between them rose. Patton was arching and rocking in time with Deceit’s thrusts, mumbling praise and pleas into the pillow and—occasionally, when a particularly loud moan would tear itself free of his chest—biting the pillow to keep himself muffled.

Deceit tightened his grip on Patton’s hips and slowed, but the collision of their bodies remained audible, an undeniable testament, “Look at me, darling.”

Patton did instantly, looking up and meeting Deceit’s eyes. Tears shone in his eyes, but his bottom lip was red and swollen from biting and rubbing against the pillowcase. “Deceit,” he sobbed, torn between emotion and desire. Deceit wrapped one hand around his throat and leaned down to capture his lips, slamming into him mercilessly. Patton dug the nails of his free hand into Deceit’s right shoulder, dragging desperate red scratches into the otherwise unmarred skin.

Deceit growled, moving to whisper in Patton’s ear, “That’s it, beautiful, let me see you. You’re so pretty when you cry.”

“I… I want to cum. I need it… please Deceit!” Patton panted, most of the emotion wrung out of him by the animalistic fucking he was getting.

“Cum whenever you want, darling,” Deceit purred, biting Patton’s earlobe as he moved his hand from Patton’s throat and added it to Patton’s efforts on their cocks.

Patton arched and cried out beneath him, nails digging painfully into Deceit’s back as he came, tears streaming down his face as his chest heaved. Deceit chased his own release in earnest, no longer having to worry about comforting the fucked out side beneath him. Patton whimpered and hiccupped as his body burned with overstimulation, but it didn’t take Deceit long, and soon he was drawing in a sharp, hissing breath and biting down on Patton’s shoulder as he released, both inside and onto his new lover, marking him. Patton pulled Deceit into a desperate kiss as the thrusts slowed and Deceit came down from the orgasmic high.

Deceit gave a few slow, deep thrusts, making a point—to Patton or himself he wasn’t sure. He then pulled out and let Patton curl around him, getting comfortable on his back. He cupped Patton’s face and kissed away the tears, “How many of these are happy?”

Patton blushed, wiping his eyes, “I um… just cry when I feel… you know.”

“Good?”

Patton nodded, nuzzling his face against Deceit’s chest, “Please say we can stay like this for a while.”

“As long as you want, sweetheart,” Deceit purred, stroking Patton’s hair.

#tentacletober #not safe for sanders #intrulogical #moceit #fanfiction

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pb1138 · 5 years ago

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Very Well Rendered

auighj;fkj??? My first ever commission??? Oh my god??? Also, subsequently my first piece of Data smut lol.

This was requested by @pinkmoontribe-blog!~ I hope you like it!!

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, desk sex, holodeck sex

The fish drifted lazily past the window, illuminated by the lights from all around, the sounds of centuries’ old melodies drifting lazily in the background. You let out a contented sigh, a lazy grin spread across your face, pride in your heart. This program had taken you weeks to develop, your progress impeded by the heavily degraded source material, but the end result was…breathtaking, if you do say so yourself. The computer trilled a door bell, startling you a bit, but you cleared your throat and responded with, “Computer, open the door.” You turned in time to catch the fascination on Data’s face as he took in the surroundings. Shoving to your feet, you turned a grin to him and gestured towards the room. “Well? What d’you think?”

He cast his golden eyes about the room, studying the details and dilapidation before coming to stand near you, his eyes moving to watch the fish pass by the window. “It is… certainly detailed.”

You chuckled and folded your arms across from your chest. “It’s from an old video game from Earth called Bioshock.” He looked at you with a raised brow, silently asking you to explain. “It takes place in the 1960s. Your character is in a plane crash which strands them in the middle of the Atlantic, and they find a sort of door that takes them here, to the underwater city of Rapture. It’s a dystopia now after a sort of drug-like epidemic turned the denizens volatile, and the character has to make their way out of the city and back to the surface.”

He blinked at you and cast another glance around the room. “I… see. And this is… fun?”

“Well, not yet. I haven’t gotten around to programming the actual game. But look how pretty it is!” You gestured broadly out the window at the city, the glowing lights and signs illuminating the many spires and sighed happily.

“It does look very well rendered. My compliments, Lieutenant.”

You ducked a blush by moving to sweep your hair behind your ear and flashed a grin at him. “Why, thank you, Commander. I’m working on a deviation from it, actually, just a world exploration. The city outside goes for—”

“La Forge to Commander Data.”

Data gave you a rueful smile which you conceded to with a nod. After a quick tap to his comm, he looked back out towards the window. “Go ahead, Geordi.” You watched his reflection in the window, the way his hand drifted back to his side, the way his lips formed his words. He seemed too lost in studying the various life forms you programmed into the deep beyond to notice your roving eyes.

“Data, could you come down to Engineering? I need a second set of eyes on this analysis.”

“Acknowledged, Georid. I am on my way.” He looked at you with another guilty smile. “My apologies, Lieutenant.”

“Oh, no, please.” You flashed him a brilliant grin to hide your dismay at his departure. “I’ve got a few more things to work on in here before my own shift starts in a few hours. Maybe I’ll see you down there,” you purred.

He studied you a long moment before tilting his head ever the slightest in one final nod. “Yes, it is a possibility. Until later, Lieutenant.” With that, he turned and left back through the archway, leaving you alone in your program.

With a wistful sigh, you turned to look back out at the ocean you created and rubbed your face. “Leave it to me to fall in love not only with my best friend but with an android,” you grumbled.

You spent the next three hours hard at work on your creation, the first half hour or so of the game being put into it. The work was going so smoothly that you almost missed the computer reminding you that you had only fifteen minutes to get down to Engineering, like you’d asked it to. Though you were loathe to leave, you jogged quickly back to your cabin to wash your face and put your hair up before darting down to Engineering. As you stepped through the door, you couldn’t help glancing around, nor could you help the sudden wave of disappointment that hit you when you noticed that neither Geordi nor Data were there. ‘Oh well,’ you thought dismally. You’d see them sooner or later.

It was a routine day for once. No near explosions, no near ejections of the warp coil, not even so much as a stray bit of unusual radiation. It was a nice change of pace from the past few weeks which had brought quite a bit of trouble for the ship, and you allowed your mind to wander back to your holoprogram as you worked. From there, it didn’t take long for your mind to wander back to Data, and a smile touched your lips as you replayed his compliment in your mind a few times. So slow was this day at work that nobody seemed to notice when you zoned completely out for a solid hour and forgot to track the computer’s readings, the numbers across the screen replaced by the way Data’s eyes seemed to glow against the lights of Rapture. And then it was back to your plans for the program. You wanted to include an exploration feature for Rapture, with a glass-cased bathysphere you could pilot around out in the ocean. Just cozy enough for two… You got so lost in your daydream, in imagining pale hands along your body, in your hair, slipping your clothes off you, that you barely recognized Geordi’s voice coming across the room in time to snap back to attention and make it seem like you were working. He paused when he saw you and quirked a brow. “Y/L/N, what are you still doing here?”

You frowned slightly. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, your shift was over nearly an hour ago.”

You blinked and looked at your screen. “Oh.” He was right. How deep had you been in that daydream? Clearing your throat and turning your head to hide a blush, you stood from the terminal. “I guess I lost track of time. Thanks, Geordi. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, you were off, darting your way back up to the holodeck to get some more work done.

Some hours later into your work, the door chirped, and you told the computer to open it again. You had your back to the archway, and you were so deep into the algorithms going into the computer that you didn’t turn to look to see who it was, didn’t even care that you’d removed the jacket of your uniform and were in just your pants and a tank top. “Whossat?” you mumbled.

“The program is showing considerable improvement.”

You squeaked and spun around to face Data, but he had his back to you, observing one of various plasmid bottles you’d written into existence. Clearing your throat, you looked back down at the screen. “Thank you. I’m pretty excited.”

“Lieutenant, I wanted to…”

You blinked and turned towards him. “Yes?”

But Data was facing you now, an expression upon his face that made your heart jump to your throat. His eyes were widened a bit as they roved over your body, his lips parted in the beginnings of a wide grin, and the way he stood was far more relaxed than normal. The grin burst across his face the same time his eyes snapped back up to your face, and he breathed out a soft, “Y/N.”

“D-Data? What are you—” You squealed, then, because Data darted across the room to you and swept you up in his arms, laughing heartily as he spun you around. “Data!”

He set you back down and looked at you, his golden eyes flicking across your face as if seeing it for the first time. “I never realized…” he breathed.

You blushed furiously and set your uniform straight. “Wh—What?”

A pale hand reached up and tucked a stray bit of hair behind your ear. “How beautiful you are.”

Your eyes went wide and your blush burned warmer. “I… What? Data, what’s going on?”

The hand moved to brush your cheek gently, and his eyes followed the movement hungrily. “My… my emotion chip has been repaired. And I…” He stepped closer as if unconsciously, his other hand moving to ghost across your arm, barely touching. “I’ve made a discovery.”

You swallowed thickly, struggling to keep your breath let alone your voice steady as you looked back up at him. “O-Oh? And uh, what um, what discovery is that, Data?”

His thumb swept across your lower lip, his head ducking closer. “I find myself preoccupied with thoughts of you. You elicit an emotion from me, something completely unique to any other person. It… It is consuming, as if the world around us is fading away, and it is just you and me.”

You watched his lips as he formed his words then looked up into his eyes and moved to press your hand against his cheek. You reveled for a moment at its smoothness, as you always did when the situation called for you to touch him, but this was different. The way he looked at you, the way he inched just the smallest bit closer, it set an electricity along your skin. “Data, I…” You shook your head and stretched up on your toes to press your lips to his, your arms snaking around his neck. A soft whimper escaped your throat as his arms went about your waist and pulled you flush against him, his head tilting to deepen the kiss.

He pulled back after a moment and let you catch your breath, a fascinated and awestruck grin on his face as he looked down at you. “Yes, I am sure now. I love you,” he whispered.

You beamed so brightly it nearly hurt and pulled him down for another kiss. Against his lips, you purred a soft, “I love you, too, Data.”

You squealed as he lifted you against him with one arm with ease, your legs going about his waist for support, and he carried you over to the desk near the window. He set you down with great ease and moved his mouth down to your neck, placing feather-light kisses that made you giggle. He paused, his cool breath ghosting across your skin, and whispered your name hoarsely.

You ran one of your hands down across his firm chest and managed to whisper out a soft, “Mm?” in your haze.

“I do not mean to… overstep.” He pulled back enough to look at you, a cautious earnestness in his eyes as he took in your flushed expression, your parted lips. “I must ask, is this… ok?”

You bit back a chuckle and nodded eagerly, moving your hand through his hair. “Computer,” you said. He raised a brow at you, and you grinned back. “Lock the door, please.” The grin that broke across his face with the chirping confirmation of the computer made your heart flutter.

He brushed your hair back over your ear, his eyes glued to the movement before he crushed his lips back against yours, his hands moving to the hem of your tank top. In the flash it took to get the fabric off, he moved his lips back to your neck and nipped ever so softly at your skin. Breathless, you pushed the hem of his shirt up and off his body, and were delighted to see the shirt underneath come off with it. You bit your lip as your eyes roved over his marble chest, and gingerly you reached to touch his skin. Data moved his hands down to the hem of your pants and placed another kiss at your neck, his hands paused as if asking permission yet again. You purred and nodded, leaning back against your elbows upon the desk. You watched as he slowly, carefully undid the fastenings and began to pull your pants off, his eyes glued to it as if savoring the experience. You blushed under his hungry gaze and lifted a finger, beckoning him to you.

He met your lips fervently, his hand drifting down to hold your hip, the other moving to your breast. You hooked your knee up to his waist and pulled him closer to you and couldn’t help the gasping moan that you gave when the hand moved between your thighs. A finger teased at your entrance for a moment, drawing slow circles in your wetness but not going in. It wasn’t until you let out a whimper and whispered a trembling, “Please, Data,” against his lips that he allowed the finger to go in.

His lips left yours and trailed warm kisses down your neck and across your shoulder before coming to rest at a nipple. You gripped his hair, clutching desperately as he licked ever so lightly at your bud. The finger inside you moved slowly, thrusting languidly into you as if he were trying to draw more desperate whimpers from you. And as his thumb brushed against your clit and you gasped a breathless, “Data,” he froze in his ministrations.

You watched as he slowly lifted his head and shivered under the heat of his gaze as his eyes roved your face. You were about to ask what was wrong when he scooped you into his arms, turning so that he was sat beneath you on the desk. His hands moved across your back, feeling the shape of your muscles, one moving down to grip the curve of your ass and the other drifting up to hold your hair. He pulled your mouth down to his and nipped playfully at your lip, squeezing your ass at the same time. It occurred to you then that his pants had disappeared, cast away in the fluidity of the switch, and you could feel him nestled against you, warmer than you’d expected. You moved your arms around his shoulders lifted your hips over him and settled slowly down onto him.

He fit so perfectly in you, as if he’d been designed with you in mind. You tilted your head back in a moan as he filled you, as his hands traveled along your body, as his mouth moved to suck at your nipple. He held you closer against him, and your hips lifted again, moving slow against him. It was soft, gentle, two years of waiting urging both of you to savor it, to savor each other. His mouth trailed along to your other nipple and the hand under your ass, after giving one final appreciative squeeze, ran along your thigh, his touch leaving electricity in its wake, until he brought it up over your hip and to your nub. Your deep moan seemed to spur him on again because his other arm snaked down around your waist, holding you firmly as he abandoned your breasts in favor of your mouth again.

Perhaps it was the two years of waiting, but the combination of him in you, upon you, around you, it was quickly too much. You could feel the edge coming, the heat in your stomach urging your muscles to tighten around him, and you whimpered against his lips. “Data, I’m—”

He broke the kiss and leaned back, hungry eyes watching your face as his teeth bit at his own lip. With a sharp thrust into you and a calculated brush of your nub, you were undone. As the ecstasy flooded through you, your body tensed, a cry torn from your throat, and you gripped tightly at him.

As you came down from your high, you slumped breathlessly against him, your forehead upon his shoulder. His hands rubbed delicately along your thighs, across your back. His lips pressed a soft kiss against your shoulder before turning towards your ear. “I love you,” he whispered, barely more than a breath, and he kissed the corner of your chin.

You grinned and buried your face into his neck, your arms dropping around his waist. “And I love you, Data,” you whispered back. Gently, as if he were scared to hurt you, he pulled out of you and cradled you to him to lie the two of you back. You pressed into his side and laid your head on his shoulder and breathed a contented sigh.

The two of you lay like that for a long time, not speaking, Data’s fingers trailing delicately along your skin as he held you, the two of you watching the bioluminescent ocean life drift lazily outside the window. Finally, after almost an hour, he spoke up again. “It really is a beautiful program.”

You smirked. “Wait until I get the bathysphere exploration sub-program running. I think you and I will… really enjoy that one.”

His fingers halted along your skin for just a moment, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “I am sure we will,” he agreed.

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bcdrawsandwrites · 5 years ago

Text

The Godless Realm

Fandom: Undertale / Siralim 2 [but readable if you’re only familiar with one or the other] Rating: K+ Genre: Gen? Friendship? [this one’s hard to place] Characters: Papyrus, and some others... Warnings: Papyrus gets shot with a rifle. No, seriously. Description: While patrolling the deeper parts of the Snowdin Forest, Papyrus encounters a very strange monster, and learns that people from the surface have very, very different worldviews from his own... Notes: I wrote this fic like mid-2017 and never got around to posting it because I never got around to drawing the cover. %| But maybe I’ll draw the cover one of these days and actually properly post it on FFN and AO3... Until then, though, I guess I’ll post it here.

---~~~---

A long line of deep footprints weaved purposefully around the trees, far away from the usual paths. Their creator marched onward, confident with the knowledge of exactly where in this dense forest he was.

Maintaining puzzles and maybe-once-in-a-blue-moon standing at his expertly-crafted sentry station were both highly important duties, to be sure, but sometimes Papyrus preferred exploring the vast Snowdin forest while on-duty. Not many of the other sentries or guards did it (not counting Sans, who did it on occasion as an excuse to slack off), and Papyrus deemed it just as important as any of his other duties—after all, a human could have sneaked somewhere out here. And if it had, he would be the first to find it!

Of course, he hadn’t found one yet, but that didn’t mean he never would. He was quite certain that one day, these treks would turn out to be fruitful. He would find a human out here, skillfully capture it, and haul it off to Undyne, who would finally promote him to—

Crunch.

The sheer quiet of the forest amplified the sound, and Papyrus spun around, soul leaping. “Who’s there?” he called. “Show yourself!”

Nothing responded, and Papyrus wondered briefly if he’d been hearing things. But he narrowed his eye sockets, scouring the forest around him.

It was hard to concentrate over the pulsing of his soul, making him giddy with excitement, but he managed. Roughly a hundred feet away was a snow poff, with something long and shiny poking out from around it. It wasn’t a branch—it appeared to be made of metal, but otherwise he couldn’t place just what it was.

“Hello?” he called again. “I can see you out there! Or part of you, anyway. Show yours—”

BANG.

He fell backward from the shock of the impact. His skull was ringing—from the deafening sound or force he’d been hit with, he wasn’t sure—and he shakily brought his hand to his chest. The projectile had gone straight through his battle body, between the gaps in his ribs, and out the other side.

Frowning, he sat up. “Excuse me!” he cried. “That was very rude!” His legs shook as he got to his feet, and he rubbed his head. “If you wanted to spar, you only need to ask!”

The metal object was still poking out from behind the snow poff, but slowly it pulled back. At first Papyrus wondered if the thing was trying to sneak away, but then he saw it rise from behind its hiding place. He could see a dark gray hat, a shadowed face beneath, and then the rest of it as it stood—

Papyrus gave a start.

It was a skeleton!

Any indignance he held within him melted away as he took in the sight. Yes, it was absolutely another skeleton—but rather than bleached white, like every other skeleton he’d known, its bones were yellowed. It wore a wide-brimmed hat and a brown mantle, and its boots, shorts, tattered cape were all dark gray. Nothing covered its rib cage, though. In one arm it carried the large weapon it had attacked him with—Papyrus belatedly recognized it as a gun of some sort—and with its other hand, it tipped the brim of its hat up. It had a longer face, like Papyrus did, but wider sockets, like Sans’s. Unlike Sans, however, this skeleton had no eye lights.

It did, however, have an unmistakable look of confusion on its face.

“‘S this a joke?” Its—his—voice was low and gravelly, the hinge of his jaw creaking as he spoke.

Papyrus blinked. “...No? I mean, I am technically on-duty, but I would be perfectly fine with sparring once I am—”

“‘M not here to spar,” the skeleton said, hefting up his gun again.

That was even more confusing. “Then what are you doing with that gun?”

The skeleton shrugged. “Gon’ shoot ‘cha with it.”

“Yes, I gathered that.” Wincing, Papyrus brushed at the hole in his battle body. He hoped he could fix that. “Is there any particular reason why?”

“Need to. Gotta keep the queen safe.”

“...Oh.” Papyrus relaxed a little. The situation was still confusing, but at least that made slightly more sense as to why a random monster was shooting at him. “Well, rest assured, the Great Papyrus is not here to attack any royalty.” He brought a gloved hand to his chin, rubbing it in thought. “I wasn’t aware the king remarried.”

Before the other skeleton could respond, Papyrus clapped both of his hands to his face in shock, gasping. “Wait, when was the wedding?! Did I miss it? Undyne needs to tell me these things! She’ll be so mad at me when I—”

“What king?”

Papyrus looked back at the skeleton, who now had his gun pointed at him again, eyes narrowed. Was… was this skeleton mad at him for missing the wedding, too? “Um. King Asgore? Or King Fluffybuns, as some call him! Seems a strange name, though.”

The other skeleton relaxed, lowering his weapon. “No, my queen got nothin’ to do with him.” He paused, looking around the forest before turning his gaze back to Papyrus. “Could ya tell me where I am, kid?”

The word sent a bolt of anger down Papyrus’s spine. “The Great Papyrus is not a kid!” he cried, stomping his foot. “He is a very mature adult!”

The other skeleton’s jaw creaked as it went askew in an expression Papyrus didn’t recognize. “You sure about that? You don’t seem much out of the shell.”

“Out of what shell?”

“...Egg shell?”

“The Great Papyrus did not hatch from an egg.” He tossed his scarf back, eye sockets narrowing. “He sprouted from an echo flower, just like every other monster!”

At that, the other skeleton ducked down, making a choked noise. Papyrus wondered at first what the skeleton might be choking on (and how a skeleton would choke in the first place) before he realized that the other monster was laughing.

“Stop that!” he cried, stomping his foot again, face flushing red in indignance. “I sprouted from the most beautiful of echo flowers!”

“Sure ya did, kid, sure,” the other skeleton croaked, finally standing upright again. “And get used t’ that moniker. I call everyone kid.”

“Oh?” Papyrus quirked an eyebrow. “And what should I call you?”

“Old man.” The skeleton shrugged. “Everyone else does.”

Papyrus brought his hand to his chin again, rubbing his glove over his teeth in thought. “Very well, that seems fair enough a trade.”

Now the old man was walking closer, eye sockets narrow as he took in Papyrus’s appearance. He stopped a few feet away—he wasn’t small, but he stood a few inches shorter than Papyrus. “Gotta say, only creatures I’ve seen s’ tame as you r’ the ones we find beaten n’ cryin’ in a cage.”

Papyrus’s bones rattled in a shudder, and he took a step back. “P-pardon?”

The old man held up a hand. “Not in this realm, kid, don’t worry about it. Speakin’ of, though.” He shouldered his gun, straightening his back. “You still haven’t told me just where n’ the Great Pandemonium I am.”

“Right!” Papyrus relaxed, and threw his arm out in a grand gesture. “We are in the Snowdin Forest! The northwestern sector, to be exact.”

“Mmmm.” The old man surveyed the forest again, jaw set. “N’ what god rules here?”

Immediately Papyrus deflated. “Um… god?” He wasn’t aware of any deities anywhere in the Underground, let alone Snowdin. Not counting the angel, of course, but no-one was quite sure who that was anyway.

“...Well, that explains it.” With that, the old man turned around, trudged over to a tree, and collapsed into a seated position next to it.

Now growing concerned, Papyrus followed him, taking a seat next to him. “Explains what?” he asked. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

The old man tugged the brim of his hat down, shadowing his face. “Me n’ the rest of my team follow the queen out to different realms to protect her. Usually she follows the voice of a god, but…” He gestured helplessly. “I guess somethin’ went wrong when we teleported, sent us t’ the wrong place.”

“So…” Papyrus’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You teleported yourself into the Underground?”

“‘F that’s where we are, yeah.”

“Oh.” He looked down at his feet, shuffling his boots in the snow, before sitting upright. “Wait!”

The old man glanced at him. “Mm?”

“If you warped here, that means… you warped past the barrier?!”

“...Barrier?”

“The one sealing us here! Under Mount Ebott!” Papyrus cried. “The one that keeps us all trapped down here!”

“Oh.” He cocked his head. “I guess. So?”

“So you are from the surface?” He gazed at the other skeleton in awe. “You live on the surface?!”

“Uh. I guess?” The old man looked at him askance—or as far as Papyrus could judge to be askance, anyway. “Siralim ain’t underground, anyway.”

“You are from the surface!” Papyrus leaned toward the other skeleton, grabbing him by the shoulders. “What’s it like?! Are there many other monsters there? Have you made peace with the humans?! Is there no more war?! What’s it like?!”

It took a moment for him to realize that the other skeleton didn’t look entirely comfortable with this position, and Papyrus let go, slightly embarrassed but no less ecstatic.

“...A’ight, one thing at a time,” the old man said, scooting a bit farther away. “Yeah, there’s other creatures there. Got a few hundred livin’ in the castle, and more outside. Millions, I’d wager.”

“MILLIONS?!” Papyrus cried, eye sockets glimmering in excitement. “WOWWIE! That’s more than monsters in the Underground!”

“As for war, uh, no. There’s always a war goin’ on, kid.”

“...Oh.” All the joy he’d been feeling was quickly sapped—he should have known that was the case. “You’re still fighting the humans, then?”

The old man tipped his head to the side in thought. “Well, we raid other kingdoms sometimes, but even then we mostly just fight other creatures.”

Papyrus nodded solemnly, then started. “Creatures? Y-you mean… you fight other monsters?”

“Creatures, monsters, same diff. Yeah, we fight each other.”

The nonchalance with which he spoke made Papyrus’s bones rattle with unease. “B-but… why? We’re on the same side, aren’t we?”

“Pshaw.” The old man tipped his hat over his face again, leaning up against the tree. “I don’t know anythin’ ‘bout sides, kid. All I know is to protect the queen. Otherwise, you kill other creatures, or they kill you.”

That phrase—or one similar to it—was not one unknown to Papyrus. Unease was now eating at his very marrow, and he found himself wanting to put more distance between himself and this other skeleton. “Y-you mean… you’ve killed before?” he stammered, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Yeah? Some odd-thousand, I’d guess.” He shrugged. “Past level two hundred now, I think.”

The snow around them had nothing to do with the cold that was now gripping Papyrus’s bones. His voice was barely a squeak. “...L-level… two…?”

“Eh, maybe close t’ two fifty now?”

Papyrus retched, scrambling backward.

“Woah, woah, ‘ey, you okay, kid?” The old man lifted his hat again, face showing concern. “I ain’t gon’ kill you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Papyrus clapped his hand over the hole in his battle body as realization hit him.

Evidently the old man had come to the same realization. His eye sockets went wide, and he slumped back against the tree. “Vertraag and Vulcanar, I tried to kill you.”

For several moments, the only sounds around them were the quiet gusts of wind, and the rattling and creaking of two different sets of bones.

Papyrus considered himself to be a kind, forgiving monster. He had always thought that there was good in everyone—that even if they’d done something terrible, they could still become a good person. But faced with someone who had reached a higher LOVE than he had even known existed—who had shot at him with the intent to kill, without even a second thought—he felt conflicted.

Two hundred and fifty levels.

He drew in a breath, letting it out shakily. Slowly he brought himself back up into a sitting position, his soul pounding and magic frantic, ready to create a forcefield of bones around himself if need be.

But the skeleton that sat across from him didn’t look like he was about to fire another projectile at him. Instead, he had his head down, looking at the gun in his lap. He appeared… contemplative?

After staring for a few moments, Papyrus drew in another breath, and broke the silence. “Wh… why did you really shoot at me?”

The old man did not look up. “‘S what I do. Killin’ other creatures. Been doin’ it since I hatched.” He tapped a digit against the metal muzzle of the gun.

Papyrus shut his eye sockets. He couldn’t imagine a world where children were expected to kill as soon as they were born. But apparently that’s what the world outside had become.

He opened his eyes, gazing hard at the other skeleton, even though the old man didn’t meet his gaze. “You’ve always been this way.”

“Mmm.”

“Have you ever…” Papyrus tugged at his scarf. “Ever tried… talking to a monster instead?”

Finally the old man looked up, staring up at the cavern ceiling in thought. “...Sometimes th’ creatures in Siralim sneak out. We talk to ‘em, make ‘em come back, give ‘em a good beatin’ if they don’t.”

Okay, that was something he could work with. “So… haven’t you tried that with other monsters? The ones you normally…” He trailed off, feeling sick at the thought of finishing the sentence, and all it implied.

“...Not really, no? Not when they’re usually out t’ kill you.” The old man brought his gaze back down, staring at Papyrus. “You can’t tell me you’d do that, kid.”

Papyrus straightened his back, his gaze firm. “I would!”

The other skeleton’s jaw went askew. “Yer tellin’ me, faced with a creature who’s gonna try t’ put a gaping hole in your ribcage, you’d just try to talk with it?”

Papyrus nodded. “Absolutely!”

The old man stared at him for a few seconds. His shoulders shook, and he began to choke again—laughing.

“...After all,” he continued, gaze unwavering, “I’m doing that now, aren’t I?”

Immediately the other skeleton shut up, jaws snapping together with a click.

“And you’re not trying to kill me anymore… are you.”

The old man lifted his head just enough to stare at Papyrus from under the brim of his hat. “...You’re somethin’, kid.”

Hesitantly, Papyrus crawled back over to the tree, sitting next to the old man again. Part of him still itched to keep away—to run away, even—but he fought the urge. Another part of him wanted to place a hand on the skeleton’s shoulder, but he fought that urge, too. “You can still change,” he said. “It’s… it’s not too late.”

“Pshaw.” The old man looked away. “Yeah, go right up to th’ teammates and tell ‘em we’re all gon’ be softies from now on.”

“Being good is not the same as being soft.” Papyrus frowned at him, then looked down, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Being good is hard.”

“...Mmm.”

The old man made no further arguments, and Papyrus, not understanding the entire situation his fellow skeleton was in, didn’t know what more he could say, so the two sat in silence.

Eventually the silence was broken by a quiet sound that gradually grew louder. Both skeletons looked up, recognizing the sound of hoofbeats against snow.

Papyrus was the first to stand, looking around to determine what was making the noise. As he rounded the tree, he was greeted with the sight of a large, golden quadruped charging at him with a wild whinny.

“Woah! Woah!” The old man scrambled to his feet, holding out his arms. “Easy Holly, easy!”

The creature slowed to a stop, planting its four hooves into the snow, head lowered as it glared at Papyrus. It wasn’t anything Papyrus recognized—the only thing he could even remotely relate it to was a gyftrot, but this thing was significantly larger and had a much longer face, with a horizontal mouth instead of a vertical one. It also had one horn instead of two, and a long, thin tail that ended in a tuft. Its fur and scales were golden, while its mane and horn were a brilliant sapphire. Overall, it looked equal parts graceful and sturdy—and right now, equal parts threatening.

“It’s a’ight, Holly,” the old man said, stroking the creature’s—Holly’s—muzzle gently. “He’s not gon’ fight us. He’s a friend.”

Papyrus, who had been staring at the old man in consternation, realized he was addressing the other monster as something other than “kid,” and gave a jolt of surprise.

Holly gave the old man a confused look, then looked back at Papyrus, softening. Craning her head forward, she sniffed at him, then rumbled something low.

“H-hello, Holly?” he said, reaching out to pet her. Immediately she pressed her muzzle into the palm of Papyrus’s glove, seeming more relaxed, happy. “Are you the old man’s friend?”

She snorted, tossing her mane.

“Yeah, one of my teammates,” the old man said, stroking her mane. “Thought you were stayin’ with th’ queen?”

Holly rumbled something to him that Papyrus couldn’t make out, but the old man nodded in understanding.

“Did he? Good ol’ Vertraag. Figured he’d pull through. Well.” He turned back to Papyrus, nodding. “She says the queen got hold a’ one of the gods. He’ll pull us outta here.”

“Y-you’re leaving?” Papyrus’s bones suddenly felt heavier. “Already?”

“Yeah, gotta get back to Siralim. Our queen talks to the gods—no good in a godless realm, heh.”

Papyrus looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet, then back up at the old man. “Could you… maybe try to do something about the barrier? When the war’s over?”

“Dunno what we can do about it, but we’ll see, huh?” He looked back at Holly, who stared at him inquisitively. “Hey, so…” He leaned toward her, whispering something into her ear.

The quadruped snorted, then took a few steps toward Papyrus, who looked at her in confusion. She bent down until her horn was level with Papyrus’s chest, and tapped the tip of her horn against the hole in his battle body. Immediately it sealed, as did the hole on the other side.

Papyrus stepped back, examining his battle body—it looked like the hole hadn’t even been there in the first place. “Wowwie! Thank you!”

Holly stepped back as well, looking back to the old man and swinging her head, as though indicating something behind her.

The skeleton nodded. “Right. Well, we’re gon’ be off, then.” With that, both the skeleton and the quadruped turned around, walking deeper into the forest.

“Wait—!” Papyrus cried, darting forward, and they stopped. “Y-you won’t forget… what I told you, will you?”

Glancing over his shoulder, the old man’s jaw went askew in that odd expression—one Papyrus was starting to suspect was amusement. “Kid, I don’t think I could forget this if you paid me in two million lumps a’ brimstone.”

Papyrus wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he smiled anyway. “Thank you!”

“Mm.”

And the two resumed walking, soon disappearing in the trees, leaving Papyrus alone in the forest once more.

---~~~---

Papyrus had a lot to think about as he made his way back to the main paths. He was headed for Sans’s sentry station, hoping his brother would be there.

Of course, he was, and he was asleep, leaning against the counter of his station and drooling all over it. But hearing his brother’s approach, he blinked awake. “Oh? Heya, Papyrus,” Sans said, wiping his face on his sleeve.

Sans had always been better at reading facial expressions than his brother, and he seemed to catch onto Papyrus’s appearance quickly. Immediately he looked at his brother in concern. “What’s wrong? Sheesh, you look like you got a lot on your mind.” But he grinned, rapping his knuckles against his skull with a hollow clunk. “Which is funny, since, y’know, we shouldn’t have anything in our minds.”

Indeed, Papyrus’s mind was heavy with the thoughts of all the things he’d seen and heard today. But looking at his brother, and the circles under his eyes, Papyrus wasn’t sure he felt like talking about the condition of the surface, the strange relations between humans and monsters, and the ongoing war between monsters and more monsters. That could wait for another day.

Maybe he’d ask about something else that was nagging at him.

“...Sans?” he said, leaning his arm on the sentry station’s counter.

“Yeah?”

“Do monsters really come from echo flowers?”

#papyrus #sans #undertale #siralim #siralim 2 #my writing #fanfic #if you're not familiar with siralim #you can look up the 'skeleton sniper' and 'unicorn holycaster' from siralim 2 #to see what they look like #but yeah I was tired of this fic sitting around unposted so I... finally posted it #and if you're wondering about NCY the chapter is still being beta'd #it is VERY LONG #longer than the last one!! please give it time

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vin-taege · 7 years ago

Text

Zodiac

Summary: Despite Yoongi’s protests, you still buy the small mirror in the antique shop rumored to bring good luck. Soon enough, a series of fortunate events happen, and so does a chain of deaths. The mirror may bring good luck, but at what cost?

Genre: Horror, Angst, FengShui!au

Pairing: Yoongi x reader, ft. members

Disclaimer: major character death, mild depictions of gore

Legend: >> a few minutes forward

Yoongi doesn’t believe in superstitions, much less luck. Everything you got in life was because of your own will and perseverance, not because some higher entity thought you could have it. You, on the other hand, couldn’t agree less. There wasn’t any harm in trying out so-called luck-bringing rituals. If it didn’t work, nothing bad would actually happen, right?

The first part of your relationship was a bit rocky. His hectic schedule provided you barely enough time to see each other, and when you did, he needed to rest. He left before you woke up, and arrived just after you fell asleep. Composing for artists was a difficult and stressing thing, a fact you understood. That’s why when you moved to a new house, you wanted to start anew.

You were currently shopping for furniture in an antique shop. Taking Taehyung’s advice, you wanted to go for a classy look. Plus, the prices were way cheaper than those in department stores. Yoongi had already picked a dining table and its chairs, and you just finished checking out a dresser, when you saw it.

It was a fairly simple mirror, small enough to fit on top of your front door. It was a circular mirror, a thick octagonal border around it.. You went towards it and picked it up, its black, gold, and red colors vibrant. However, you noticed that there was a piece of cloth taped around the edges of the glass.

“May I help you?”, a voice said behind you, almost making you drop the mirror in surprise. You turned around to find one of the employees, a bored-looking teenager- who was probably annoyed at you touching their stuff.

“Oh, I was just looking. Um, do you know how much this thing costs?”, you showed him the mirror. He took it, checking the back and sides, before returning it to you. “Well, there isn’t a price tag, but I’ll ask Ms. Mei. That bagua’s pretty old, so it might cost a lot”, he said, leading you to the counter, where Yoongi was waiting for you.

Bagua.

You remembered reading about it once. In Chinese belief, it supposedly brought in good luck if you placed it at your front door. Perfect for your new home.

You placed the bagua on the counter, earning a questioning look from Yoongi. “Another ritual, cult girl?”, he teased you. You gave him a playful slap. “There’s no harm in trying.”

The employee went through a curtain behind the counter, and came back together with an old woman. She was shorter than you, her grey hair tied into a neat bun. She was wearing a shawl over her loose, red dress. Greeting you with a smile, she took the form you filled out earlier.

“The shop can help you transport your furniture. We have a truck, and I can get one of my employees to drive them to your house”, she offered.

“Yes, we would like that very much”, Yoongi smiled back, appreciating her thoughtfulness. She then looked at you, smile suddenly disappearing as she saw the mirror on the counter. Her expression darkened, and she even took a step back, wrinkled hands moving to pull the shawl around her tighter.

Even Yoongi noticed, and he flashed you a look of confusion. You nibbled on your lip awkwardly, the change of atmosphere evident. “Is there something wrong?” you asked her. “I wanted to ask how much this bagua costs. I saw it on one of the displays, so I thought it was on sale.”

“No!” she snapped. “No. Keep it. Y-you can have it for free. Just... be careful with it”, she said, her tone much softer this time. She hurriedly went back through the curtain, leaving behind the employee from earlier, who looked equally confused.

“I can drive the furniture. Just point out your car so I can follow you guys”, he trailed off, getting the truck keys. “Sehun, I’ll be out for a while. Man the counter”, he called out to the back of the store. You heard a faint ‘okay’, before exiting the store, with Yoongi holding your hand, the bagua clutched tightly in the other.

Fortunately, Jin and Jimin came to help move your things. It would’ve taken you two days to move just a cabinet, and a table set, and that’s even with Yoongi’s help. The table wouldn’t have been off the ground by an inch, and you’d already drop it.

“Wow, you guys got more than what you bargained for”, Jin said over a mouthful of cookies. Indeed, you did. For a cheap price, you got a small, but cozy bungalow. The inside was a plain white, which Yoongi liked since he thought it was simple.

“She even got into a fight with one agent”, Yoongi elbowed you teasingly. You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. “He was charging us way too much. The house wasn’t even that nice”, you argued, making the boys laugh.

The house you chose was near a forest, and was more on the rural side, but not too far away from the city. Most of your neighbors ran farms, so there were times a chicken or a dog would run down the streets, something you’d get used to. Taehyung was delighted to hear that, coming from a family of farmers himself, though he hasn’t visited the house yet, due to his busy school schedule.

To your luck, you didn’t have to change jobs since the shop you were working in was just a ten minute walk away. Definitely closer than your old house.

“Noona, what’s that?” Jimin nodded towards the octagonal mirror, the reflective surface itself still covered up. You took it from its spot on the table and brought it close to your face, holding it away as you took the cover off.

“It’s a bagua. It brings good luck apparently”, you told them as you tried to scratch the tape off. Yoongi snorted beside you. “It’s another one of those Chinese things she tried out. I gotta admit though, the incense she sprayed around in Chinese New Year did smell pretty great.”

Ignoring his comment,you finally got the cover off, and you peered into the mirror. It kind of looked like the eye-holes in hotels, where everything was slightly more rounded than normal. Weirdly, it gave off an odd feeling. Worry was tugging at your subconscious, but like Yoongi’s comment, you payed no attention to it. Maybe you were going to get a fever. It was just a mirror after all.

“Woah, that looks cool”, Jin remarked, reaching for it. Yoongi sat back as you handed him the mirror, choosing to look at you questioningly. You shrugged at him. “Hey, it’s not doing harm.” He gave you a half-smile. “I suppose not.”

“Hyung, let me see”, Jimin shifted next to Jin, seeing his own warped reflection beside the older boy’s. “Woah, it’s like those fish-eye things. Yoongi-hyung, wanna look too?”

Yoongi gave him a gentle smile. “No, I believe I’m good.” He leaned onto you, using you as a cushion. You whined, trying to push him off. He rolled his eyes, only squishing you further into the side of the couch. Jin looked at you and fake gagged, before handing back the mirror. Suddenly, a honk from outside caught your attention.

“Ah that’s Hobi. We should get going. We don’t really trust Jungkook alone at the house”, Jimin chuckled. “I suppose so. Thanks for coming over.” you said, laughing with them. The pair got up, only to be greeted by Hoseok opening the front door. “Hobi!” you waved at him,urging him to come in. “Hello! Sorry I wasn’t able to help in the moving.” he rubbed his nape.

He nodded at the mirror. “What’s that?” he said, moving closer to get a better look. “Oh, just a little lucky charm I got.” you replied, ignoring Yoongi’s scoffs.

“Y/n good news!” Your boss walked in as you were arranging a bouquet. The business at the flower shop has been slow, resulting in low paychecks. The salary wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t the best either. The only things keeping you from resigning were your overly-nice manager and the need to help Yoongi with the expenses.

“Yes, sir?” you placed the final rose in the center, stopping to turn to him. “Fortunately, a sudden pop-up of orders came; at least a hundred different companies and people are asking for orders.” he beamed at you.

Your jaw dropped. The shop you were in was a small one, having only a number of chains nationwide. It was highly unusual, and almost miraculous, to have a hundred orders pop out of nowhere. “W-what? Really?” a smile slowly crept, heart beating at the news. “Yes! I’m equally surprised. So, let’s work hard! About a fourth of them are due next week, so we better get going.” he patted you on the shoulder, a ringing phone drawing him out the room.

You stared at the pink cloth wrapped around the flowers. Twenty five orders were needed by next week, and God knows how much the amount was. Coincidentally, your boss came back with a long slip of paper. “Here’s a portion of the list.” he said, placing it on the counter. “I’ve already talked to Jiwoo and Hansung. They’re going to help you.” he finished, rushing out to manage another phone call.

The list was a jumble of rushed writing. Big companies were even there, and so were weddings. Determined to finish the orders by today, you looked at the first name.

Song’s Wedding

Your heart rate sped up. Could it possibly be Song-Song couple? No way. “Y/n!” your manager’s voice brought you back to reality. “On it!” A ton of peonies and roses mixed together, making about twenty for the aisle, and another special bouquet for the bride. It was going to be a long day, but it was so worth it.

Yoongs <3

Yoongs <3: Really? You aren’t just joking right?

You: Yes! I’m shocked too, I mean 100 orders in one day?? wtf

You: but in a good way

Yoongs <3: I’m so happy for you, babe :)

You: … omg screenshotted

Yoongs <3:Fuck off before I take it back

You smiled, sending a quick ‘I love you’, before putting your phone in your bag and zipping it up. Your boss was a bit too delighted and decided to send you home early. It was perfect for walking around the village and getting to memorize the way home.

Lately, the weather has been unpredictable. One moment, it rained, the next, it was incredibly hot. Thankfully, it was just right today, although it was a bit windy. A strong breeze pushed your hair back, making you hold it down with one hand. You could feel your phone vibrating in your bag. With a huff, you tried your best to get it using your free hand.

‘Goddamn,’ you muttered ‘How convenient.’ You continued grumbling, then you felt something hit your chest. A shriek left your lips, and you furiously wiped whatever landed on you off your body. You calmed down enough, seeing a small, thin, brown envelope in the ground.

It got blown away a few inches more, before you caught it by stepping on it. You reached down, and opened it. ‘Holy shit’ you thought. The thing had 50 000 won in it.

You looked around, seeing no one looking for it. In fact, you were strangely the only person in the empty road.

“Min Yoongi!” you screamed at him as soon as you got your phone out. “Y/n, I love you and all, but I actually need my ears to compose-”

“Yeah, whatever. Shut up and listen. Ok, so I was walking down the road, and it was windy, and there was a thing-”

“Y/n, take a deep breath, and please talk slowly.”

“Yoongi,” you squealed. “50 000 won literally got blown to me.”

Silence followed, and at one point you thought he hung up. Then, you heard a loud thud, followed by what sounded like someone hitting a table multiple times. “You- what- how?” he managed to choke out, though you could hear extreme happiness in his tone.

“I don’t know! I was just walking, and no one seemed to look for it. I mean, we really kinda need it, babe.” you said in an uneasy way, guilt starting to follow. Maybe taking it wasn’t the most moral option, but you didn’t want to skip meals like last time. “I understand. But really, wow. I- I don’t even know what to say.”

More silence. Yoongi normally would’ve had something to say, never being a man lost for words. You didn’t notice how long you were talking until you began to see your house. “Hey, I’m home early by the way. I’m making a celebratory dinner.” you grinned. Yoongi let out a cute victory yell. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. My girlfriend’s calling for me, and there’s no way I’m passing this up.”

The news of your promotion spread fast among the boys. Despite Yoongi’s whines of having alone time, you invited the boys to your mini feast. They gladly accepted, with Taehyung excitedly coming over (and dragging Namjoon with him) within the first thirty minutes.Hoseok showed up next, fresh from his dance tournament. Jungkook texted that they’d be a bit late since they decided to make you a little present.

“Where’s the lucky mirror?” Namjoon grinned at you. Yoongi sent you a smirk. “It’s outside. She’d gladly show you the way.”

“You sure you don’t want to look at it, babe? Might give you a small work boost.” you winked at him. He laughed and shook his head. “I’d rather stay inside and not let the food burn.” You looked at Hoseok. “I’m staying to help this guy. Plus, I’ve already seen it anyway.” he politely declined.

Shrugging, you stepped out the door, the other boys following you. Namjoon giddily came next to you, glancing up at what you were pointing to. “Oh, a bagua?” you glanced at him, surprised that he knew the term. He gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ve been reading in my spare time.”

“A what, hyung?” Taehyung said, moving next to Namjoon as he looked at the mirror. “A bagua. Something from Chinese belief.” Taehyung hummed in response, staring as the reds and golds of the mirror captivated him.

Back at the dorm, the three boys were busy preparing a meal of their own. They planned to give you a bulgogi, knowing that you’d share it and they’d get some themselves. Jin has been leading the process, telling them to wrap it up as it was getting late.

“Jimin, just put the materials back. Look at that knife holder, it’s almost falling off. Plus, there’s tons of bowls scattered around. Move it, men!” he clapped. Jimin squinted at him. “Aish, so bossy.” he muttered. Jin ignored the comment, grabbing a glass of water. “I’m gonna change clothes. You guys look decent already, so we’re going straight out after I finish.” he rushed off, leaving the younger boys to tend to the mess.

He softly sang to himself as he entered the room, setting the glass down a bit too close to the edge of the table. His stufftoys and figurines lay messily on the floor, the older boy not finding the time to recently clean his room. Marios, Princess Peach, and a huge Donkey Kong plushie was left untouched near the table.

He dug through his closet, carelessly throwing out shirts. He’d clean it up once he gets home. ‘Aha!’ his eyes glanced upon a simple button-down, perfect. He took his shirt off, tossing it behind him. As he was about to button the shirt, he heard something fall and looked behind him.

The glass fell, water soaking through his shirt. He grumbled, turning his head to the door. “Kook, can you hand me the mop?” he hollered. No reply. “Kook?” he waited a few more seconds, still met by silence. He sighed, walking around the spill to a small cabinet where they kept the brooms.

He got a mop, dragging it behind him. He trudged around the junk sprawled around his room, dodging things he could step on. However, he mis-stepped, tripping over a backpack.

The older boy yelped, arms not fast enough from catching his fall, head hitting the edge of the table with a loud bang. His body landed on the Donkey Kong plushie, limp.

“Jin hyung?” Jungkook called from downstairs. “Are you okay?” No reply.

“He totally left us with all the cleaning.” Jimin chuckled. Jungkook shook his head with a smile. “I mean, I’m not even surprised.” He picked up the plates and bowls they used, stacking them on top of each other. He placed them in the sink, then turned back to Jimin.

“Hyung, can you handle the others? I really don’t want to touch raw pork, especially after I just showered” Jimin nodded at him, gathering the whisks and teaspoons. “Hey, isn’t it weird how we have at least three different butcher knives, but can’t get a knife holder that actually holds the knives?” Jimin gestured to the knife holder. Jungkook shrugged. “Then again, it’s Jin hyung, ‘master of culinary arts’“ he said, adding finger quotes.

Jimin’s phone beeped from his pocket. “It’s probably noona. You should answer her.” Jungkook told him. Obliging, he took his phone out, blindly leaning on the counter. “Hyung!”

He reluctantly drew his arm back. The chopping board was halfway off the edge, the knife holder placed on top of it. “You should look at what you’re doing.” Jungkook tsked at him. Jimin rolled his eyes. Suddenly, they heard a loud bang from upstairs, causing Jimin to drop his phone.

They looked at each other. “Jin hyung? Jungkook called out. Knowing Jin, he probably just fell down amidst the mess of his room. However, he didn’t reply. “Are you okay?” Jungkook yelled after him again. Or maybe Jin was just playing prank. The two boys felt an unsettling feeling neither of them could explain. “I’m gonna check on him”, Jungkook muttered, leaving the kitchen.

Jimin blinked, soon crouching down to reach for it. He mindlessly scrolled through his phone, trying to get his nerves eased up. His other hand reached for the counter as he tried to pull himself up, accidentally whacking the chopping board, sending the knives and bits of pork flying.

A loosely placed butcher knife fell, blade down, landing on his neck. Jimin gasped, blood rapidly dripping down and pooling in his throat. He couldn’t find the strength to stand up, crawling on the floor instead. Pork and knives lay around him, making it difficult to maneuver.

“J-Jungkook!” his voice came out hoarse, much of a silent yell. He clutched his throat, trying to stop the bleeding. “Hyung!” he heard the younger one call from upstairs. “We need to call the ambulance! Jin, he-” But Jimin didn’t even make it to the end of the sentence.

“Someone’s late”, Namjoon impatiently muttered. It’s been an hour since they texted, and even though Jin took his time while cooking, it was never this long. Finally, Taehyung’s phone rung, and he quickly answered.

“Jungkook, where the hell- What?!” he stood up, worry etched in his face. The room fell silent, except for Jungkook’s unclear voice on the phone. “Okay. Okay, we’re going there right now. Kookie wait, we’re going there right now.” he said, getting the backpack and dragging Namjoon up.

“What? What’s happening? Why aren’t they here?” Hoseok looked at the younger boy worriedly. You walked closer to him, Yoongi following you. Taehyung pulled the phone away. “Jungkook’s in the hospital. Something bad happened. Really bad. We need to get there now.”

You didn’t need another word from him before scrambling outside and craming into Hoseok’s car. “The one near our dorm, Daegu Hospital, something like that. Please hurry.” Taehyung told Hoseok. The older boy got the car running, and sped out.

Taehyung directed his attention back to Jungkook’s call. “We’re on the road. Just keep talking. We’ll get there, don’t worry. Jesus- why?” he choked, tears starting to spill out.

>>>

Jungkook had his head in his hands, fingers clawing out at his hair. He hasn’t stopped crying, and he was scared. Scared and traumatized. Nurses and doctors passed by him, giving him sympathetic looks. He didn’t need their sympathy. He needed a doctor to come out and tell him that his friends were fine. That the hit Jin took to his head only resulted in a minor concussion. That the knife sticking out of Jimin’s head somehow got removed and he’s in recovery now.

He heard footsteps shuffling down the hall, immediately hearing Namjoon’s worried voice.

You spotted him crouched against the wall. “Kookie!” you ran to him, kneeling to his level. “What happened? Are they okay now?” you held his wrists, moving your hands to wipe his tears. Yoongi kneeled next to him. “Jungkook, what happened?”

The youngest looked up, eyes skimming over your worried faces, before stopping at Taehyung. His face was ashen, and they knew they shared the same pain. The same thing you’d experience in a few seconds.

Yoongi rubbed his back, making him calm down before he spoke. He coughed, leaning over to you as you welcomed him in your arms. Jungkook shut his eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.

“It was a freak accident. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left Jimin. I- I should’ve asked Jin to stay. I could’ve helped them”, he said, tears streaming down his face again. Hoseok joined you and Yoongi on the floor, him also starting to cry. “Jungkook. Tell us what happened.”

“Jin hyung, he bumped his head on the corner of a table. It was a sharp edge. I told him to tape it or something since it was so sharp. I should’ve taped it myself, then maybe he wouldn’t-”

“Jungkook.” Namjoon said, voice cold.

“Jimin, he-” Jungkook choked on his own words. He couldn’t forget the gruesome image, Jimin laying on the floor, a huge pool of blood coming from his neck. “I don’t know how. He- there was a kn-knife in his neck. H-he was on the floor with a knife in his neck, I think he toppled the board, I don’t know anymore..” Jungkook sobbed, burying his head further in your shoulder.

Shock settled in everyone. It was too ridiculous to believe. You were just talking to Jin and Jimin yesterday. Jimin even texted you. They were supposed to bring bulgogi. You were supposed to have fun. The night was supposed to end anywhere else, except in a hospital, hoping that your friends were still alive.

“For patients Kim Seokjin and Park Jimin?” A doctor approached you. You helped Jungkook shakily stand up, crowding around the doctor. “We’re his friends”, Namjoon informed him.

The doctor stared at each of you, a sad expression plastered on his face. “Well?” Namjoon pushed, his tone alarmingly increasing. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to inform you that both patients didn’t make it. Mr. Park has lost too much blood, and Mr. Kim suffered heavy trauma to the brain, resulting in a blood clot.”

“And you can’t do anything about that?” Namjoon snapped at him. He glared in response. “The knife that fell on your friend’s neck hit two nerves, something impossible to treat with the time it took to get there. He was dead on arrival. The blow Seokjin suffered was forceful enough to form a small dent in his skull, and cause a blood clot. I’m sorry, but we couldn’t do anything.”

“That’s just bullshit! You could’ve at least tried harder with Jin. You guys are doctors- you’re supposed to save people”, Namjoon took a step forward, inly to be held back by Hoseok. The doctor, now alarmed, signaled to one of the nurses. “If you think of causing a scene here, I won’t think twice of calling security”, he warned, turning his heel to attend to other patients.

“You shouldn’t have said that, Joon” Hobi whispered. Namjoon shrugged his arm off, walking towards the exit. Hoseok gave you a teary-eyed look, before going after his friend.

You looked at Yoongi, who now had his eyes shut. “This is not happening. They’re joking right?” he scoffed. “They have got to be joking. I was talking to Jin this morning, there’s no way he’s...” No one wanted to say the word. It hung in the sullen atmosphere, where the chatter in the background turned to static and the hospital’s white walls seemed too bright.

Jungkook didn’t want to go home. Especially since all the blood and spills where still there. In fact, he never wanted to go back. It would hurt too much seeing Jin’s room, or passing by the kitchen. The thought of an empty bed across his room, where Jimin should’ve been, was unbearable.

“Hyung, can I stay over at your house?” he was looking out the window when he said that. All four boys looked at him ready to let out a ‘yes’. “Yoongi hyung, can I?” he looked towards the older man.

Yoongi didn’t reply. He was too busy staring at the road, thinking of how things escalated so badly. His hand held yours, and although he felt warm, it looked like he was a thousand miles away. You squeezed his hand, getting his attention. “Jungkook asked if he can stay over tonight.” you repeated. He nodded, sinking farther in his seat.

“We need to get spare clothes though.” Taehyung slowly said, knowing it’d imply something bad. Jungkook’s faced scrunched in a mix of annoyance and anger. “I’m not going back there. Not now, not ever.” he hissed.

“You don’t have to. You can wait in the car.” Hoseok said, already taking a left to their dorm. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! You don’t know how fucking hard it is to go back there!” Jungkook sprung up. “Namjoon, you understand, right?”

Namjoon had his earphones in. He didn’t feel like discussing anything with anyone, and he just wanted to ignore the elephant in the room. Aside from Hoseok, he was the one who tried to show his friends the good side of things. However it was difficult to when there is no good side.

When Jungkook was met with stone-cold silence, Hoseok spoke up again. “I know it’s shitty to say, but trying to avoid it won’t help you. I miss them too, we all do. But we can’t bring them back, and we have to accept that.”

He pulled up on their porch, unlocking the doors. “You don’t have to go, Kook.” you said, stepping out the car. Yoongi followed you, slamming the door shut.

“You know where their rooms are.” Yoongi said, tone flat. “Where are you going?” you asked him. He just shrugged, about to go in the kitchen, then stopping halfway. “Why? Is there something-”

“Don’t go in there, please.” He grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around. You decided not to question any further, knowing you wouldn’t want to hear the answer. He steered you upstairs, purposefully blocking your view of Jin’s room.

“Grab a few random shirts, then let’s get the hell out of here.” he said,opening Jungkook’s cabinet. You obliged, standing next to him, packing a few jeans and shirts. You included a beanie too, plus a bracelet you’ve seen him always wearing.

“Finished?” you nodded at Yoongi, showing the bag you filled. He gave you a small smile. “Everything will be okay. I’m so proud of how strong you are right now.” he gently said, giving you a kiss on the forehead. You returned the favor by pecking him on the cheek. “We should go.”

You went out the room last, making sure to properly close the door. Then, you heard something fall from Jin’s room. You looked back, contemplating whether to tell Yoongi or not.

“Yoongi?” he looked back at you. “Can you wait for a bit?” Although he wanted to protest, he gave in. “Make it quick. I can feel Jungkook losing his shit in the car.”

You couldn’t agree more with what he said. The place was starting to pull off a creepy feeling, but you had to know what made that sound. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you slowly went to the room.

Your heart was pounding from fear and anxiety. It better be a figment of your imagination. You reached for the knob and swung the door open.

It was as if time stopped. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear. The room was cold, too cold. There was a big mess all around, and you saw a small puddle of water drying out next to a coffee table. The corner had a smear of blood on it, reminding you of the previous events. But that wasn’t the thing that caught your attention.

Jin stood at the center of the room. He was wearing a crumpled button-down, the buttons put in lopsidedly. His hair was sticking out, and a slight dent was on his head. The side of his temple was purplish, blending in with bloodshot eyes.

“Pay the price” he hissed at you.

You slammed the door shut, running back to Yoongi. “Get out!” you screamed at him.

He looked up at you in a daze. “What?”

You continued running, pulling him along with you. You’d explain in the car, or at least when you got home. You didn’t want to talk about the two boys in front of Jungkook, but this was way too messed up. You reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door a few meters away from you.

“Y/n, wait!” Yoongi tugged at you from behind, trying to get you to stop. You halted, turning around to face him. “Yoongi, you don’t understand- holy shit!” you screamed, looking behind him.

By the kitchen entrance stood Jimin, a large knife sticking out his neck. There was blood all over him, and he had the same bloodshot eyes. He opened his mouth, a pool of blood streaming out. “Pay the price” he repeated.

Yoongi confusedly followed your gaze. “What are you-” You cut him off, bolting out the house with him in tow. You didn’t stop running until you were inside the car. The backpack was clutched tightly in your hand, and Yoongi had to pry it off. “What was that?” The other boys looked over curiously.

You were about to explain, but then you saw Jungkook’s face. His cheeks were a bit puffy. His eyes were a slight tint of red from all the crying he did. You didn’t want to give off a mocking story, so you swallowed the fear. “I just got a bit freaked out. I’m sorry. Let’s get out of here.” Yoongi nodded uneasily, and you could tell he didn’t bite into your lie.

Hoseok started the car again, driving you back home.

“Thank you”, you hugged Hoseok. The two other boys stayed in the car as Yoongi helped Jungkook with his things. “Stay safe please” you whispered. He let out a sigh. “You too. I’ll try my best to calm Namjoon down. Tae’s still...”

“In shock?” you completed, face dropping. You’ve never seen Taehyung so quiet before, and it just made the whole thing worse. The impact of Jin and Jimin’s passing was completely evident, leaving a painful effect on the boys.

“I hope wherever they are, they’re happy.” Hoseok nodded in agreement. Without another word, he got back in the car and drove away.

You went to go inside, stopping next to Jungkook. He was standing in front of the door, staring at the bagua. “Kookie, what is it?” you gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look at you, eyes still glued to the mirror.

“I really hope it brings good luck, noona” he said, voice starting to break. “I really do.”

Jungkook’s been silent for the past few weeks. He didn’t talk unless he was spoken to, and when he did, it was one-worded answers. Sometimes even just simple grunts or nods. He’d usually stare into space, drowning out the whatever noise in the background.

Things haven’t been the same. The funeral passed by, and none of you uttered anything about it. The boys even considered selling the apartment the three had, mainly because Jungkook knew he couldn’t stand the silence.

“Kookie, Yoongi’s gonna be back in a bit, okay?” you told him as you got your grocery bag. “Can you handle two minutes? I’m just going to buy a few things from the store.”

His eyes stayed on the TV screen, intently playing video games. He gave you a swift nod, looking over you as you passed by.

Sometimes you forget that you moved. You were used to seeing tall buildings and buzzing cars when you went out. However, now the neighborhood’s so much simpler and nicer. A soft breeze blew gently against you. There were definitely more bushes and flowers, making the walk better. A loud bark came from behind you, making you flinch.

During the first week of your move, a few neighbors have told you about some stray dogs lurking in the forest. These were the wild kind, being a rural area. ‘Stay out of the forest, unless you have a hunter with you’, they’d say.

You walked up the steps to the small village center mall. There were stalls selling various fruit and produce around. Your grocery list was fairly small, so you thought of bringing fruits home to cheer the boys up a bit.

“Good morning, miss. Want to test your luck?” You turned your attention to the man in a suit. He was handing out a flyer advertising a ‘grand raffle’. Seeing there’s no harm in trying, you nodded thanking the paper. He smiled. “Registration is this way.”

You scanned the flyer as you followed him. The raffle showed off practical prizes, the first one being a car. Yoongi always whined about getting a car of his own, so it would’ve been amazing if you won it for him.

The man passed you a form, needing a few details like your name and contact number. “When do you announce the winners?” you asked him, dropping your raffle stub in the drop box. “In a while, actually. We initially planned to close off the entries early, but you made it! You’re the last entry for today.”

What a coincidence.

“We’ll text you if you win.” he added. You thanked him, then carried on with your errand. You didn’t want to leave Jungkook alone, or Jungkook alone with Yoongi. The younger boy was too sensitive, and you knew your boyfriend might let the wrong words slip.

Fortunately, you easily found what was needed on your list. The line in the cashiers weren’t too long too, making your trip easier.

As you were taking your wallet out, your phone buzzed. You handed the employee your payment, before checking your phone. There were four texts, one from Yoongi, and the others from an unknown number.

“Ma’am, here’s your change.” She handed you a few coins and your now filled bag.

4 UNREAD MESSAGES

Yoongs <3: Babe, have you seen Hoseok?

Yoongs <3: Taehyung went home and Namjoon wasn’t there

Yoongs <3: Fuck you need to come to the hospital right now

Unknown: Congratulations! This is Lee Woo Bin from PriSeoul. I’d love to inform you that you one the first place in our raffle. You may claim your prize at the registration booth on or before the end of the month

<<<

Hoseok didn’t handle it easily. The first thing he did after the funeral was lock himself in his room and cry. When there were no more tears to shed, he ate less and danced more. Exhaustion couldn’t stop him from distracting himself.

Usually, Taehyung or Namjoon would visit him to give him something to eat. It even took them great difficulty to convince him to come back home and rest.

“Namjoon, I’m going out for a jog.” He ran out the door, avoiding any opportunity of protest from the younger boy. He didn’t bring anything else aside from his phone, earphones, and a bottle of water. Normally, he wouldn’t bring the last one, but since he didn’t want to worry Namjoon, he did.

Their dorm wasn’t that far from your house. They lived somewhere in the middle of the city and the country, so it was pretty convenient at times when they needed to buy something. Fruits and vegetables from the countryside, and clothes from the city.

He thought of paying Jungkook a visit. He knew how traumatized he must be, seeing two of their friends dead in one night.

Holding Onto You played as he put his earbuds in. He started to jog, not stopping even when his legs started to hurt. It was the afternoon, so the sun wasn’t scorching his skin as he ran.

He finally halted at an intersection, looking left and right before crossing. A second just as he passed the middle, a truck zoomed passed him, nearly hitting him. He stumbled into the sidewalk, looking on as the truck passed. “Hey, I’m suing! I almost died there!” he screamed after it.

His heart beat fast in his chest. He couldn’t stand up, too scared by the encounter. The printed-on design of collars and accessories on the truck’s back stared at him as it sped into the distance. His water bottle rolled away, but he couldn’t care less about it.

When he composed himself again, he got up. He didn’t want to continue taking the same route, considering he almost got run over. Instead, he took a rumored ‘shortcut’ in the forest.

He turned and went through a row of trees, the cement soon fading into leaves and twigs. The twittering of birds surrounded him as he jogged. Relief washed over him, the beauty of it all making him forget everything bad that happened for a moment.

Seamus flowed into his ears. At first, he wasn’t into Pink Floyd much, then Namjoon suggested it to him. The main source of all his new music tastes were either Namjoon or Jungkook, as the two were ‘adventurous’ when it came to songs.

Behind the song, he heard something faint and muffled, kind of like a bark.He ignored it, thinking his earphones were just starting to break. They were old anyway, and he’s been planning on buying new ones.

He heard it again, this time closer. Slowly, he lowered the volume, but still kept the earbuds on. He jogged faster, breaking into a full run when he heard the barks become louder.

Through shaking hands, he ripped the headset off before getting his phone out. He scrolled past his contacts, tapping Namjoon’s name. ‘Come on, pick up. Please.’ A hundred thoughts raced in his mind as he dodged bushes and trees.

The barks were accompanied by crunching leaves now, making it apparent that something was chasing him. On instinct, he looked back, seeing a wild dog, fangs jutting out, chasing after him. Its fur was coated in dirt, and saliva dripped from its mouth.

‘Shit.’ This was too surreal. He was a few steps away from death. One wrong move and he’d die or get seriously injured. Unless he can fight the dog off.

He whipped his head back, only to trip. In front of him was Jimin, hand outstretched to stop him. The younger boy had a blank look on his face as he stared at Hoseok.

From the ground, Hoseok looked up, locking eyes with him. “Hyung” Jimin whispered, voice gravelly. “Hyung, it’s time.”

Just as he finished, Hoseok felt fangs sinking into his his shoulder. Claws dug into his back while the wild mutt teared at his flesh. His screams ran through the forest, sending a flock of birds flying away.

Screams turned to whimpers, and soon enough, the dog stopped. It got off his body, walking towards the phone he dropped. Namjoon was on the line for a good minute, before the dog pawed it, accidentally ending the call.

It looked around more. Seeing no predators, it scampered off, Hoseok’s blood smeared all over its fur.

Namjoon rushed out of the house. It was a good thing Taehyung wasn’t at home, because he didn’t have enough time to explain to him why. He knew were Hoseok would’ve gone too.

The older boy was someone who always put other people before himself. Who played off his own hurt, and chose to comfort others first. It was obvious he went to visit Jungkook, especially since Yoongi’s been telling them that their youngest wasn’t doing well.

He dodged a few passers-by, shouting Hoseok’s name out in the process. “Hobi! Hobi, where are you?!” he breathlessly reached the intersection. He glanced around, looking for signs of his friend. Then, he spotted something wedged under the bushes.

The familiar water bottle lay under the leaves. He took it, rubbing the dirt off the surface. “Hoseok-” he stopped mid-sentence, bumping into someone.

He looked behind him, spotting an aggravated teenager. The boy was wearing all black, starting from his baseball cap, all the way to his leather jacket. It was so awfully pretentious. His minions stood behind him, the two of them balling their fists threateningly.

“Hey,” the boy narrowed his eyes. He took the toothpick he was chewing out and threw it on the ground. “You should watch where you’re going.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. It was an accident, but I don’t have time for this.” He tried walking around them, but one boy grabbed him and pushed him back.

“Okay, I’m sorry. My friend is missing, and I know he’s in danger. So can you just let this one go?” he scoffed at them.

Their leader stepped forward. “I think the fuck not.” He lunged at Namjoon, delivering a punch to the boy’s stomach. The air got knocked out of him, and he stumbled because of the sudden hit. “F-fuck off. I need to find my friend.” he coughed out.

The group huddled around him, kicking and hitting him. It was three against one, and there was no way he could hurt anyone. The two boys held him in a kneeling position while the other one kept throwing punches at him. When he finally thought it was over, the boy he bumped into clutched his shoulder and forced him to stand.

“This should teach him.” he sneered to his lackeys, before punching him one last time.

The punch might’ve been a little too hard; or they might’ve been a little too close to a fire hydrant. It wasn’t until after Namjoon fell when someone yelled at them to stop. A middle-aged man chased them off, but by the time he got there, Namjoon’s blood was already spilling on the concrete.

Next to them was a yellow fire hydrant; a single red splat on the metal.

The road was crowded when you went out. The locals were drawn to the forest shortcut, forming a circle around a clearing. An ambulance and police cars lined the streets. Policemen were preventing the people from going in further. Inside, a few more police were investigating the scene.

“I pity the poor boy.” you heard an old woman whisper. “I do too. He mustn't have been from here. If he was, he wouldn’t even think of going in the forest.” her friend replied.

“The authorities really should start on putting up those anger signs.” she continued.

“Mama,” a little girl tugged on the hem of her mother’s dress. “What happened to the man in the forest?”

Her mom looked down on her, her face etched with worry. “Nothing, honey. Let’s go before daddy gets worried.” She picked her daughter up, walking away from the scene. You caught up to her, curious about the news.

“Excuse me, miss. What happened here?” you asked her. She contemplated whether to tell you in front of her daughter or not, but in the end, she set her child back down. She leaned closer to whisper to you.

“There was an accident involving the wild dogs. A man was chased down and mauled to death. I overheard the police talking, and they said he didn’t make it.”

Dread stated to fill you. Your phone buzzed again, reminding you of Yoongi. “T-thanks.” you bid her goodbye.

Yoongi <3: Y/n where are you?? We found Namjoon... his body at least

You: Babe, wasn’t Hoseok born on the year of the dog?

Yoongi <3: What? I think so. Just come here please

Namjoon lay on the hospital bed. His white clothes matched the sheets. His eyes were closed, as if he was sleeping, except he wasn’t breathing. Bruises coated his skin, and one side of his head was busted. A faint line of stitching showed on that side, much like what happened to Jin.

Taehyung stood at the foot of the bed. Jungkook clung onto him, his head tucked into the older one’s shoulder. They both looked tired, with Taehyung’s messy hair, and the dark circles under Jungkook’s eyes.

You stood in front of Yoongi. He was hugging you from behind, nuzzling his mouth on your hair. Though he tried to stay calm, you could feel tension in his hands.

“This is unbelievable.” Taehyung chuckled bitterly. “This is all your fault!” he pointed a finger accusingly at you.

You were taken aback by his sudden outburst. “What are you talking about? You think I wanted this?!”

“This all started ever since you bought that stupid mirror. First Jin, then Jimin. Now Namjoon was beaten to death, and guess what? His head exploded on a fucking fire hydrant. Even Hoseok’s missing, and god knows where he’ll turn up. Probably dead, because of you!”

“Taehyung, that’s enough!” Yoongi shouted at him. You flinched, never hearing Yoongi yell before.

SIlence returned to the room, and you couldn’t help but think that Taehyung was right. All the fortune came to you, but you didn’t want your loved ones taken away.

“Yoongi, we should go back to the shop.”

Without Hoseok, Yoongi drove this time. Taehyung helped you find his car keys so you can use his car for a bit. The bagua was shoved in your bag, wrapped with cloth. You didn’t know how the mirror worked, so you avoided all physical contact with it for the meantime.

You wordlessly reached the shop. Yoongi got off the car first, and without waiting for you, stormed into the shop.

He was slamming the bell on the counter when you went inside, the two other boys following behind. “Anyone here? Ms. Mei? Is no one manning the store? Sehun, where the fuck are you?!” his voice rang throughout the store.

Finally, the employee who assisted you with the furniture came out. He looked twice as annoyed, a sour frown on his face. He held a black bag and hauled it on the counter. “Sir, I would need to ask you to stop-”

“Where’s your boss? We’re returning something.” he stretched his hand out to you, gesturing for the mirror. You unzipped your bag, shuffling through your things, before handing him the bundled cloth.

“This-” he shoved it near the clerk’s face. “-has ruined our lives. Four of my friends died. Call me crazy, but they died because of this.”

His face paled upon seeing it. He stepped back, shaking his head. “Ms. Mei isn’t here, and I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Bullshit!” Yoongi drew his hand back, throwing the mirror on the ground. Glass shards lay under the now loose cloth. You felt relieved seeing the mirror broken. It means it’s over now, right? Whatever curse it had should be lifted. It was gone, and you were saved.

“That’s not how it works.” The cashier said weakly. “Ms. Mei is not here, and never will be. She’s dead. The day after you bought the mirror, she was about to move to America. She mentioned something about wanting to get away. A few days later, her grandson called the shop. She died after getting into a horsefly attack.” He pointed to where the mirror fell.

You stared in shock. It wasn’t there anymore. The cloth and the shards were gone. Yoongi looked back at mouth hung in confusion. You checked your bag again, digging through your wallet and phone. There it was, the cloth still wrapped around it. You felt around it, trying to feel a crack. However, there were no signs of damage.

The cashier coaxed you forward. The four of you stood behind the counter, the mirror placed in between. You put your bag next to his, the weight wearing your shoulders off.

“My name’s Minseok. I’ve been running the shop with her ever since the start. She’s practically like family now, you know? I’ve seen that mirror around a few times. She had it with her, but she never talked about it or showed it to anyone. Actually, I don’t know how it got on that shelf the day you saw it. I thought she changed her mind about it and decided to sell it.” He looked at you, and you nodded.

“Before she went to America, she told me something about it. It came from a girl, way back in the 18th century. No one knew her name, and she was dubbed Lotus Feet since her feet were bounded to give her small feet, or lotus feet. During the battle of Ningpo, her family was being hunted down by the British. Food was scarce, and they were having a hard time escaping. So, they decided to leave her behind. They thought she was a burden, so they left her for dead. This-” he tapped the mirror.

“-holds her soul. It’s evil. I know it brings luck, but if you accept the luck it brings, it takes a life in payment. In particular, those who have looked into the mirror after you.”

“But why did she die? If she knew about it, why couldn’t she do anything about it?” you asked him. The three boys were silent next to you. You could feel Taehyung’s burning stare, but decided to ignore it.

“You. You were the good luck it gave. Something she couldn’t reject. You wanted the mirror, and the curse was passed from her to you. The only way you can avoid its effects is to reject the luck it brings.” he pushed it towards you.

“Can’t I find someone else? How do I permanently end this?” you pushed it back.

“Unless someone willingly accepts the mirror, it won’t leave you. Unless...” he paused, nibbling on his lip while he was deep in thought.

“Unless?” Taehyung pushed on.

“Unless you can go to a Chinese blessing shop. You can destroy it there. There’s one, but it’s in another town, left from here. You should go.” He ushered you out, grabbing your bag and returning it to you.

You bounded put the shop, waiting for Minseok as he locked the door. “I can’t come with you. I’m sorry but I need to send money to my mom, since she’s really sick.”

He walked towards Yoongi and got a pen out. “Go on that road and drive straight down until you reach the fourth intersection. Take a left, then a right, and drive until you see a ‘Welcome to Jil-An’ sign. Turn right on the second crossing, and the second building should be ‘An Liu’s Charm Shop’. Just go straight in and say Fa Mei sent you.” he instructed as he scribbled down on Yoongi’s arm.

You got into the car, and Yoongi slammed the pedal. Through the rearview mirror, you could see Minseok’s fading form. The forest was getting larger as you ventured forward. The sun was starting to set too, and it was going to be a long night for you.

“Why can’t we just destroy it here? It’s more dangerous going there,” Taehyung looked out the window, big raindrops splattering on it rapidly. “Let’s just chuck it out the window or something.”

Along the way, you ran into a storm. It was pouring outside, and there were constant flashes of lightning. The car’s headlights provided little help with the amount of water dripping down the windshield. A twig or some leaves would slap against the car from time to time, but Yoongi was unfazed.

“We can’t do that. Didn’t you see what just happened at the shop?” he said through gritted teeth. Taehyung glared at him from the backseat.

“Easy for you to say. You’re the only person in this damn car that hasn’t looked at that mirror, and you perfectly know you’re safe.” he leaned forward, grabbing the back of your seat.

“Taehyung, sit back down. You’re distracting him.” Jungkook murmured, though the older boy ignored him.

“See that?” he spoke, just as lightning lit up the sky. “That’s the sign of me dying soon. I’m next. I’m the stupid bastard who looked into the mirror, not you.”

Yoongi shifted gear, driving impossibly faster. You looked across to see him. Tears pooled at the edges of his eyes, ready to be released. His breathing was getting irregular, and his grip on the steering wheel was tightening.

“It’ll just get restored again, you know that. Hyung please stop.” Jungkook whispered, pulling Taehyung back.

The older boy pushed him off, sending him flying to the window with a thump. “Shut up! Unlike you, I don’t want to die yet!”

“What, you think I want to die? How could anyone fucking know looking into that thing would kill you? Stop putting the blame on someone and think for once.” Jungkook snarled at him, throwing a punch.

Taehyung sat back, rubbing his throbbing jaw. Jungkook stared back at him, appalled. “Jungkook...” your eyes swept back and forth on the two boys.

“Can you please stop? We’re all suffering here.” Yoongi looked at Taehyung through the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, okay? We’re trying to help here. We won’t just let you die.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Stop the car.”

“What-”

“Stop the car!”

Yoongi stepped on the brake, sending the car forward in a jolt. Taehyung's eyes flickered to the bagua you were holding, then to you. “If you won’t do anything about it, I would.

He lunged forward, grabbing the cloth from you. “Taehyung, no!” you screamed at him, trying to pull the mirror back. His hold was strong, and you couldn’t shake it off, even with Jungkook trying to pull his arms away. Yoongi clicked his seatbelt off and grabbed Taehyung’s wrist.

“Let go!” he yelled. Suddenly, Taehyung let out a pained scream. You looked up to see Jungkook forcefully biting his shoulder. Just as the younger one pulled away, he did too. With the sudden loss of contrast, Yoongi stumbled back in his seat, the mirror in his hands.

In a state of shock, he looked at it, his distorted reflection staring back at him. Frantically, he grabbed the cloth and wrapped it around the bagua again. With shaking hands, he handed it back to you.

“No,” you whispered. “Not you too. No, Yoongi-” Tears streamed down your cheeks. You hugged him, sobbing into his chest. The two younger boys speechlessly watched on.

You felt soothing hands caressing your hair. “Baby, it’s okay. We can make it.” he gently told you. His face was close to yours, and you could feel his cheeks equally wet. Was he crying too?

You heard the door lock click, and turned your head just in time to catch a glimpse of Taehyung stepping outside. You were about to go after him, but Yoongi held you back. Jungkook, however, was out of the car within seconds.

“Jungkook, no-” Yoongi was met a slam of the door. He turned to you. “Get your phone and call Jungkook. Tell him to go back” He readjusted the gear and backed up the road.

You opened your bag, trying to feel the outline of your phone. ‘What?’ You opened the bag wider, turning on the inside light to get a better look. “Yoongi, this isn’t my bag.”

The bag had bands of money in it. None of it was yours, and most of the contents looked like it belonged to a man. Everything pieced together.

“I changed bags with Minseok.” you stared at it in horror. It would be a matter of time now before something happens to the person next in line. Distressed, you rolled down the window, chucking the bag out. “I don’t want your money!”

Taehyung trudged through the forest. The wind slapped at his face, and the rain sprayed harshly against his skin. He wanted to go home. That was all he could think of. Maybe if he slept it off, he’d wake up to find that it was just dream. Hoseok would wake him up, then he’d go to the living room to find Namjoon sitting on the couch, reading the same boring book.

Jin and Jimin would call him over to hang out, and at the end of the day, he’d have dinner at your house just as usual.

He wanted to believe it so bad. The blinding lie was so much more comforting. It warmed him as he shivered under the trees. He brought an arm to wipe his face, not sure if he wiped away tears or raindrops.

In the distance, he heard Jungkook call for him. “Hyung!” he whipped his head around to find a figure making its way to him. “Hyung, come back!”

He didn’t know why, but he broke out into a run. He entered the forest, trying to get away from the younger boy. Why was he running? Isn’t he tired of doing that very thing?

Maybe he couldn’t think straight. There was no way of escaping death at this point, so what was the use of avoiding it? The cold was distracting him, that’s for sure. Jungkook’s voice was fading, but he didn’t stop.

The ground he was stepping on started becoming muddier. He concentrated on his steps, trying not to trip. Then, a loud snap followed by excruciating pain on his leg ensued. He fell down, clutching his left leg. A bear trap bit into it, the metal hidden under the mud.

He tried forcing it open, only to injure his fingers. He cried out. “Jungkook! Jungkook, help me!” he yanked at it, thinking of ripping it off in desperation. Pain coursed through every bone in his body. Slowly, he felt the sharp tips on his bone.

His screams grew hoarse as he tried prying it off. Thunder covered the sound of his yells. Mud coated his body from moving on the ground too much. The rain made his hold slippery, and he could feel a chunk of his leg starting to separate. Panicked, he looked around, eyes stopping on a familiar boy silently watching behind the trees. “Hoseok hyung.”

“Yoongi, we have to go after them, and the car isn’t helping.” you sternly told him. At last, he hesitantly nodded, stepping out the car. You took your seatbelt off, grabbed the mirror, and followed suit.

“Jungkook!” you shouted for him. “Jungkook!” Yoongi cupped his hands around his mouth. You walked more, the fog devouring the car as you got farther away.

“Y/n,” you looked at him. His brown eyes no longer held coldness. Instead, they were filled with regret. Sadness. The boy was tired. “If something bad happens, promise me, the first thing we’ll do is to run back to that car.” you nodded, understanding his point. There was no guarantee Jungkook will make it. It hurt to sa that, but it was the truth; and you didn’t want Yoongi to go next.

“Is that him?” Yoongi pointed at a shadowy form standing on the other side of the road. “Where-” you started to run towards it, only to have Yoongi pull you back again. A car zoomed past you, beeping loudly.

“Noona?” It was Jungkook. He started to show clearer as he jogged towards you. “Wait-” you shouted, fearing the worst. “-stay away from the road!”

A loud honk interrupted. Jungkook was illuminated under bright headlights, like a deer caught on the road. Metal against flesh collided, and the boy was thrown a few feet away. The driver of the truck tried to regain control, only tipping the truck over. Broken milk bottles lay on the road, some of the milk turning pink around Jungkook’s body.

Horrified, Yoongi put you behind him, and you walked back to the body. The milk turned a darker shade of red each step you took closer. Jungkook was slumped on the ground, his limbs bent at awkward angles.

Yoongi shook his head. He reached for your hand again. “Time to go.”

You forced yourself to take our eyes off the scene. If Yoongi didn’t save you, would’ve it been over? It was unfair. The mirror knew you couldn’t reject the luck it just brought. What if it happened to Yoongi? No, not him. Dear god, anyone but him.

Various thoughts raced in your mind as you got back in the car. Yoongi started it again, absentmindedly staring out the windshield. “You know couldn’t just let you die out there right?” you nodded at him. His voice was weary, the same voice he used when he comforted you.

The trees got replaced by pastures. Fences appeared at the side of the road. You were close. You could make it. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you passed the sign Minseok told you about. Yoongi let out a breath he was holding. He looked over to you, smiling. You smiled back, eyes glancing at the road again.

“Yoongi!” you screamed. He swerved, however still hitting the lone chicken that was about to cross. He lost complete control of the car, sliding off the road and crashing into a fence. You felt his hand holding yours, before you were knocked unconscious.

The police found the wreckage in the morning. You woke up to an unfamiliar voice talking to you. “Miss? I think she’s conscious now. Miss, do you remember your name?” Your body ached all over. Your head was pounding, and something sharp poked at your ribs.

A siren pierced your eardrums. You could make out the sound of mumbling, but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. Bits and pieces were caught up in your brain, then you suddenly felt something soft against you.

“-lost control, and it crashed on the chicken wire fence”

“What about the other one?”

“Didn’t make it, he-”

“Miss, can you hear me?”

The voices were blending in your head. You tried opening your eyes, immediately closing them as harsh light came into view. A hand cupped over your eyes, preventing further light from coming. You blinked twice, blurry eyesight starting to focus.

“We’re taking you to the hospital, no need to worry about anything.”

With much effort, you turned your head to face him. Your mouth froze into a scream, looking face to face with Yoongi. His head was busted and blood was all over him.

“Time to go, sweetheart.”

#bts #bts imagines #bts yoongi #kreativenetwork #bts yoongi imagine #bts scenarios #bts suga #min yoongi #bts angst #horror #bts au #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts hoseok #bts namjoon #bts jin

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willandlyra · 7 years ago

Text

no one would know the sound of a ghost

in which nico hates his neighbours until one of them shows up at his door claiming his apartment is haunted, and he requires a partner in ghost busting.

word count: 5228

read on ao3

Nico, so far, has not had much contact with his new neighbour, dubbed currently as ‘Will from next door’ and that’s exactly how he likes it.

Their current encounters start and end with the following:

1. Will moving in just as Nico leaves for work. Headphones in. Minding his own business. His eyes accidentally meet in the lift with who he assumes is the guy moving in from the impractical amounts of boxes he’s holding. Will says, with too much enthusiasm for nine in the morning, “hi! I’m Will”. Nico smiles, and doesn’t say anything because he can’t remember how to formulate words.

2. Later in the same day. Will still transporting a couple of boxes of things when Nico returns home a few hours later. He actually manages to introduce himself this time. Will drops one of said boxes on Nico’s foot. Great start.

It’s nothing personal to Will, despite his early morning enthusiasm that one time and the fact that Nico actually yelped quite embarrassingly in a very public hallway when half of Will’s possessions collided with his toes. Or – that might have a tiny bit to do with it, but truthfully, Nico doesn’t really care for any of his neighbours.

Not because he doesn’t like them, per say. The ‘nothing personal’ title carries on from Will and is shared between the entirety of his apartment building. The fact is, they’re his neighbours. On principle, no one likes their neighbours. Neighbours are 90% of the time annoying and nosy and invasive. They’re too loud – the guy living in no.196 before Will was always playing his music at an unforgivable volume for three am, and Nico supposes the mistrust has carried.

Some of his neighbours are sweet, sure. Mrs Anderson opposite says hello with a sweet smile every time she encounters him in the hall or lift. She’s approaching eighty-one, and is under the impression that his name is ‘Dave’, but it’s the thought that counts. Piper across the hall is very nice, if not… over enthusiastic, and he supposes if she wasn’t his neighbour, she’d be his friend. As it happens, she is his neighbour, and he has to hear her loudly singing when she leaves her apartment for work every morning. Nice.

That’s a problem with neighbours: you know bits and pieces about them and their lives and their characters, but not enough to know them as people. You get to know all of their crazy and their ugly when you’re listening to mini soap operas through the thin walls dividing your homes, and you accidentally spy upon their irritating habits, and catch them at bad moments, and see all the sides of a person they wouldn’t reveal to a stranger on the street, by pure accident.

That’s all you see though. Some of them are friendly, and they aren’t shy about it, and waves and smiles and greetings are exchanged in the hallways but you don’t know them well enough to find a redeeming quality for all of the pet peeve criterias they fill.

His neighbours have all kinds of crazy. When Piper starts laughing she doesn’t stop until she looks as if her lungs are about to rupture, Mrs Anderson dresses like she’s in a time warp from 1988, Leo down the hall collects cactuses in different shapes and sizes, and Nico himself spends half his time yelling at his laptop at incompetent people on Mythomagic forums.

He hasn’t had many encounters with Will yet, but when he does, it’ll top the list so far.

It’s a Friday night, and Nico is ready.

He’s had a week of work – gross – and he’s ridiculously tired, but instead of sleeping, Nico has a way better idea. He has a glass of wine already poured into a glass, sitting idly on the coffee table beside a box of chocolates that he was probably supposed to send to Hazel. Adam Sandler movie (everyone has guilty pleasures) is at the ready. Fluffy bed socks are on. Door is locked. Ready.

He sits down, grin on his face, and breathes out a sigh of relaxation.

…Which is precisely when there’s a knock at his door.

Nico groans. Quite loudly. He sort of hopes that they get the message but as the only response is a couple of other rat-a-tat-tat knocks on the door, he supposes not.

He considers ignoring it and pretending he’s not in – but they’ve probably already heard the groan, and the light from the hall is obviously going to travel through the gap underneath the door itself, and he doesn’t know who is there, anyway. It could be Billie Joe Armstrong, ready to declare his love. It probably isn’t, but it could be.

Nico sighs. An irritated one this time, and it’s not really necessary but it’s kind of for good measure. And then he drags himself up off of the sofa, and feels like he’s pulling dead weight as he slowly, very slowly, makes his way to his front door.

He’s not sure who he’s expecting to find at this hour (it’s only nine in the evening, but whatever, Nico’s an old man when it comes to socialisation in the night). It could Billie Joe. It probably won’t be Billie Joe, but he hopes it is. It could be the boy he got into a fight with in high school - Octavian - who swore revenge, ready to punch him in the face. Could be his ex boyfriend from two years ago turning up with a baby basket, screaming “it’s yours!” before disappearing into thin air, like in all the movies - not that he's sure how that'd work. He isn’t particularly expecting any of these – probably someone who forgot their key, or someone begging for money who somehow got into the building. Maybe his landlord for a surprise inspection, who knows.

He opens the door, and out of all the ideas that sprang into his mind, and all the logical and rational people it could have been, Nico is not expecting it to be Will from next door.

“Um,” Will says. He looks a little like a deer caught in headlights. Maybe he has the wrong address. “Hi.”

Nico stares at him for about ten seconds and then, rather than responding with a traditional greeting, blurts out, “do you have the right address?”

Will blinks several times. And then he says, “yeah. I mean. I wasn’t looking for anyone else. I’m here because – well, for you.”

Because that doesn’t sound creepy at all. What the fuck. Nico’s going to have to rename him Will from next door to Will from the wanted serial killers list.

“Right,” Nico says. There’s a short pause. He shifts uncomfortable, and adds, “for, um, any particular reason?”

Please don’t say homicide, Nico thinks.

“This is going to sound kind of crazy, I know-“

Oh God. He’s going to say homicide.

“But I think my apartment is haunted?”

There’s another pause. This one stretches out longer, an awkward silence in which Will hastily shuffles, waiting for a response, and Nico just gapes at him.

“You what?”

“I… think my apartment is haunted?” Will repeats, and okay. Maybe he did hear right, then.

“Um,” Nico says. “Right. That’s. Well. Unusual.”

“I know,” Will agrees. “But weird things have been happening since I moved in, and. I don’t know. You’re the closest neighbour I have, and sometimes I hear you – accidentally, thin walls, sorry – discussing the existence of aliens on the phone late at night. At least, presumably the phone. Maybe to yourself. Which is fine. But. I just mean, it made me think you might be the most appropriate person to approach here.”

Nico stares at him for a long moment. “You do realise this isn’t like, the ghost busters head quarters or something?”

Will snorts. “Obviously,” he says. “It’d be a pretty stupid ghost to live right next door to the HQ of its nemesis, after all.”

It’s a kind of funny comment. Nico wants to laugh, but he’s still gaping at Will, not really sure in any way how to respond to him.

“Are you fucking with me?” he asks. “It’s been a long week, man. I’m not feeling it. Come back on Wednesday, maybe. I can cope with Wednesdays.”

“I’m not joking,” Will insists, looking a little desperate. “Like. Genuinely. My apartment is being haunted. I am being pursued by a poltergeist, I am literally certain of it. And it’s been going on for months, ever since I moved in, and I just ignored it and tried to rationalise it but my Cheerios just got knocked off of the kitchen table for no reason, and they’ve spilled everywhere and I have had enough.”

Nico just says, “why were you eating Cheerios at nine pm?”

Will shrugs. “Mid-life crisis.”

“You’re not middle aged though.”

“But I will be, some day, and I’m having a crisis about it.”

Same, Nico thinks, nodding. Because he totally relates.

“Same,” he tells Will from next door. “I feel that.”

“Thanks,” Will says.

“New question, why were you eating Cheerios, they’re bloody gross.”

“They aren’t, but that’s not the point. I reiterate: I think my apartment is being haunted. In fact, scrap that. My apartment is being haunted.”

“Okay,” Nico agrees. “Your apartment is haunted. What – I mean, I’m not trying to be rude here – but what exactly can I do about that?”

“I need you to help me search for paranormal activity,” Will admits hastily, and Nico just stares at him. Again.

“Wait,” he says, a few moments later. “You are literally being serious right now.”

“Yep,” Will sighs. “Completely. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Nico says automatically. Is it? He doesn’t really know. He’s never been asked to hunt for paranormal activity before. Particularly not with someone he has literally spoken to twice. And neither of them were exactly intimate encounters.

“Thanks.”

“Why?”

“Because my apartment is being haunted,” Will says. “Oh, you mean – well. I can’t go alone. Everyone knows you never take on a poltergeist or whatever that is alone. I tried telling my friend, but he thought I was joking. And, um, my other friend recommended psychiatry. So far you’ve only crossed one off the list. So that’s a good sign.”

“Jesus Christ,’” Nico says. He shakes his head in disbelief, and he’s kind of really feeling like he needs to sit down for a bit. Or maybe for the rest of his life. That would work.

“Is that a no?” Will asks, defeated. All of this staring has given him a good look at Will from next door. He’s cute, that’s for sure. Blonde hair, blue eyes, most likely helps old ladies cross the street. He really is attractive – although most people are, if you haven’t got laid since 1968. Nico may or may not fall into that criteria.

Also, Will had these big blue eyes, hard to say no to. He’s really cute.

Also, Nico’s seen this film before, and it totally sucks.

Turns out ‘Jesus Christ’ doesn’t mean no after all.

Nico does what any good neighbour would do, and allows Will in, and offers him a coffee.

“Yes, please,” he says. “My coffee always seems to end up going drastically wrong. I blame the ghost.”

“Are you sure you’re not just really bad at making coffee?”

“I’ll have you know, I’m an expert,” Will retorts. “I’d show you, but honestly, I’m too scared of accidentally breaking the mugs. The ghost has made me very superstitious.”

Nico eyes him wearily, thinking, why the fuck did I let this lunatic inside of my apartment?

“I’m sure it has,” Nico says. “Can I ask when the supposed haunting began?”

“Right after I moved in.”

“And what exactly were the signs?” he presses, feeling a little too self-important. Nico’s enjoying this, though, in spite of the serial killer possibility still being a fairly high risk. He feels like a ghost buster. Maybe this is actually what he was born to do. If, you know, ghosts actually existed. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do or ask, and he’s kind of making it up as he goes along – it reminds him of the improvisation exercises they had to do in high school drama. A simpler time.

“Well, it’s really cold, for a start…” Will begins, and Nico can’t help but interject.

“The whole building is,” he tells him. “The heating is kind of shit. Don’t supposed they mentioned it in the sale, though.”

Will frowns. “Maybe the whole building is haunted,” he says, and Nico doesn’t reply, because if he did he would probably bang his head violently against the table.

“What else?”

“Things keep breaking. I keep dropping everything when I shouldn’t be. Things just fall off the table or out of my hands even when I’ve got a firm grip.”

“That’s called butterfingers,” Nico informs him. He feels that on a pretty deep level. Maybe he isn’t the ghost buster after all. Maybe he’s actually the ghost.

“I still think it’s the ghost,” Will says defensively. “I was never this bad before!”

“Really?”

Nico’s not sure why, but from looking at and talking to Will, he’s kind of drawn the conclusion he’s the type to break a good few mirrors in his lifetime.

“Well,” Will says. “I don’t think so.”

Nico sighs. “What else?”

“Weird noises.”

He raises his eyebrow. “As in…?”

“Like. I don’t know,” Will shrugs. “This kind of… groaning sound? But not like, I mean, not in a sexual way. I’m pretty sure I’m not just eavesdropping on someone getting laid by accident. It’s more of a… pained wailing.”

“I see,” Nico says slowly. “And what time would you say this occurs most of all?”

“I don’t know. Like… eleven in the evening until two in the morning, mostly, I’d say?”

Nico coughs. “Right,” he says, and then swiftly moves along onto another question.

Will does not need to know that the supposed ‘ghost noises’ he’s been hearing every night are actually the sounds of Nico losing at Silent Hill.

The last time Nico got invited back to a guy’s place in the evening was probably over three years ago. Also, it wasn’t to search for paranormal activity and the proof of a poltergeist, so Nico’s really not sure whether he’s winning or losing tonight.

“Here it is,” Will says, opening the door. “I don’t know whether you’ve been in here a lot before, with the old tenant, but. I’ve moved it around a bit.”

“Yeah, no, it looks good,” Nico says. “I like your set up a lot better than Percy's.”

“Percy?”

“Old tenant,” Nico tells him. “I came over a few times. The place always smelled of fish. It was gross.”

Will wrinkles his nose. “Ew,” he says. “Bet you’re glad that he left.”

“Oh, I am,” Nico says. “He was definitely not one of my better neighbours. He’s moved away with his girlfriend now, thank God, though I’m pretty sure they’re only together because she’s a pescatarian.”

“Makes sense,” Will shrugs. “Did he ever mention anything weird while he was living here?”

“99% of the shit he says was weird,” Nico tells him. “But if you’re talking about in relation to the ghost, then no, he didn’t.”

Will groans. “Why am I the only one being targeted?”

“Maybe the smell of fish scared him off?” Nico offers helpfully. “Or maybe he was being… haunted, and I just wouldn’t know because he never approached me about it quite as, well, forwardly as you did.”

“I was tired of suffering in silence,” Will says defensively.

“I’m not hating,” Nico raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Although, there is another option.”

“Which is?”

“He doesn’t exist. The poltergeist, I mean, not you.”

“I mean, that’s a possibility,” Will muses. “But I still have pretty high confidence in its existence. Do you not believe in ghosts, then?”

“Not really,” Nico admits.

“But you believe in aliens?”

Nico flushes. “That’s a debate for another day. It’s a bigger likelihood. Look at the size of the universe, Will. You really think this planet is the only one to harbour intelligent life? Will. Will, listen. They’re out there.”

Will stares at him for a few moments. “And you don’t believe in ghosts?”

“…Not really?”

“So you think we just get born out of nowhere and remain on the planet for an unspecified amount of time and then just die? Just like that?”

Nico shrugs. “I dunno, but if I were a ghost, I sure as hell wouldn’t be spending my days in the afterlife haunting random apartments.”

Will considers this. “Me either, but maybe it was resting in peace, but then the previous tenant angered it with the fish, and now it’s out for vengeance.”

“Okay, now that’s something I’d do,” Nico nods. “I agree with the current actions of the ghost.”

Will frowns at him, and points to the pile of broken ceramic, Cheerios and milk on his kitchen floor.

“Really?” he asks dryly. “I don’t.”

“How exactly do we detect paranormal activity anyway?” Nico asks, and Will, for a moment, looks perplexed.

“Ah,” he says. “That could be an issue. Don’t you need like, all kinds of fancy scientific equipment?”

“This isn’t a science fiction novel, Will. I’m pretty sure those kinds of tools don’t actually exist.”

“Such a sceptic,” Will sighs, mournfully. “And so young, too. So sad.”

“They didn’t need high tech equipment in paranormal activity the movies though,” Nico says, ignoring his previous comment. “You have a video camera?”

“Nico, those movies weren’t real…”

“Obviously,” Nico says, rolling his eyes. “But we have to take inspiration from somewhere.”

“True,” Will admits, and he complies. They set up Will’s old video camera in the kitchen, where Will insists most of the ‘incidents’ seem to happen, and wait a while.

“We should search the apartment too,” Will declares. “There might be, you know, weird demonic markings on some of the walls or something, that’d indicate there’s a demon here, right?”

“Or that a previous tenant was into the illuminati,” Nico says. “But sure.”

Nico goes along with it anyway, though he’s not entirely sure why. This is hardly on the top of the list of things he was planning to do tonight, but maybe, on the odd occasion, socialisation with a stranger does end up being better than sitting around watching bad Adam Sandler movies and being bitter. Not that Nico would ever admit it.

Also, who knows – maybe the whole ghost buster thing could end up being a pretty good career change. Nico’s not really feeling being in marketing for the rest of his life. Or for a second more than he has to be. So that could work.

“Hey, Will,” he calls. “Wanna go into business as professional paranormal activity experts?”

“Sure,” Will says. “I’ll come up with a theme song. We’ll probably get sued for being crap, though.”

Nico waves him off from the other side of the room. “I’m pretty sure whether or not you have been released from the haunting of a supernatural entity is a matter of opinion, and entirely subjective.”

He turns to look at Will, who is stood by the wall trying to look behind the photo frames and tiny flower pots (seriously?) for any, like, small 666 signs or something, presumably, and absent-mindedly thinks about how he has great legs.

“I’m pretty sure it isn’t,” Will says, turning around, and yeah. Great legs. “But it’s fine. We’ll work with it. You found anything?”

“Nope,” Nico says. “Zilch.”

“Me too,” Will frowns. “Subtle, ghost, subtle. I’ll give you credit for that. You’ve got moves.”

“It isn’t real,” Nico says. Because probably.

“Or it’s just more subtle than you are,” Will says, shaking his head. “My legs are great. I’m with you there.”

Nico blushes, and Will grins.

“Sorry if I-” he starts, but Will waves him off.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “It’s fine. Also, it’s been ages since we set the camera up, shall we go and check it?”

Nico blinks. “It’s literally been about forty-five minutes. If that.”

“Like I said, it’s been ages.”

They turn the footage onto fast forward, and watch for any – Nico doesn’t know what. Demonic figures. Floating plates. Suddenly falling kitchen appliances, or something like that.

Nothing happens, though. It’s a still image of a kitchen (with Will’s evening-breakfast still spread out, all over the floor, nice) that just happens to be the backdrop for a bit of blur and zoom indications, and a clock showing the time at the bottom.

But nothing happens.

“There!” Will says. “Nico, go back, I saw something!”

It turns out, all that Will saw was a bit of dust moving in the corner between the wall and the cupboard.

“You disgust me,” Nico says. “Clean your kitchen. Also, the cereal.”

“I don’t know if I should. Can’t I send stuff like that in to be analysed in labs and stuff? Is that a thing?”

“No,” Nico replies. “Clean it up. I’ve almost slipped on that milk at least three times.”

Like a good Samaritan, Nico offers to help clean up the cereal disaster, and promptly slips on the milk.

“See,” Will tells him, holding an ice pack to his head, which he had hit pretty hard on one of his kitchen counters. “I told you weird incidents and disasters kept happening here.”

“I slipped on spilled cereal ingredients,” Nico reminds him. “If you always leave your paranormal encounters left around on the floor like that, no wonder you’re always tripping over.”

Will frowns. “That’s a fair point,” he says. “I’m still recording some more, though. Just in case.”

“You do that,” Nico says encouragingly. “I’ll just. Be here. Icing.”

“Ah, right,” Will says, biting his lip. “Sorry about that. Your injury, I mean.”

“It’s okay,” Nico replies. “I mean. I don’t know what I was expecting when I came over here today, but it probably should have been something like this.”

“I… kind of feel like I should be offended right now,” Will frowns.

“Can you blame me? The first day we met, you dropped a box on my toe,” Nico points out, and Will’s eyes widen.

“Oh god, I’d forgotten about that! I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Nico says quickly. “It’s fine. All is forgiven.”

“Maybe it was the poltergeist?”

Nico groans on impulse. “Please stop,” he says, and when Will looks at him a little strangely, he feels self-conscious, and asks, “what?”

“Nothing, it’s just…”

“What?”

“You sounded a lot like the ghost noises I hear at night just then.”

Oh, fuck.

They manage to leave the recording going this time for almost an hour. Key word: almost. They spend the time sat dutifully in Will’s bedroom, googling things like, “paranormal activity detection”, and “is there a ghost in my house”, and “are ghosts adverse to fish?” on their phones.

It’s been a long time since Nico was in a guy’s bedroom as the clock neared towards midnight. He’s usually wearing a lot less clothes and not researching the likelihood of having a poltergeist in a newly-built block of New York apartments, but he’s having a pretty good time regardless. Maybe on occasion, the supernatural is better than sex. He considers this, and then decides that probably isn’t true. Maybe they should be combined. Will is still pretty, after all. Sex and the Supernatural. If the ghost buster business doesn’t work out, at least he has a great name for his future T V show.

“Will, the building isn’t haunted,” Nico says, for probably the 59th time. Nothing I’ve found backs up your idea. And if it did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s the internet. It’s all bullshit.”

“Well someone’s feeling cynical,” Will says, and Nico couldn’t agree more.

“That’s me,” Nico agrees. “Full time cynic. Non-believer. Para-sceptic.”

“…Who believes in aliens?”

Nico scowls. “We’ve been through this.”

They check the tape again, and there’s nothing.

“I told you so,” Nico sings gleefully, and Will glares at him.

“I don’t like you,” he says. “I’m glad I dropped box on your foot.”

“Hey!”

Will, as a good, courteous neighbour (who is blatantly copying Nico’s ideas) offers Nico a cup of coffee.

“I thought you said it always goes drastically wrong,” Nico reminds him, wearily.

“Oh, yeah,” Will says. “But I mean what’s life without a little risk? And it’s not like anyone has ever died.”

“That… doesn’t really reassure me, to be honest.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Live a little.”

Nico laughs, and when Will gives him a questioning look, he just says, “come on. Isn’t that a little ironic? We’re literally searching for a ghost right now. And you’re telling me to live a little. Jesus Christ.”

“Get out of my house,” Will says. And then. “Do you think I offended it?”

Nico does accept the tea, though. Mostly because he wants to see how horrifically bad this can go. Also, he’s never been one to turn down free coffee. Also, he’s running out of coffee at his own place, and it’s the strategically correct way to go.

Will takes extra care getting the milk out and boiling the kettle and pouring the water into the mug without accidentally burning half of his skin off. He’s doing quite well, actually, Nico was expecting more disasters by now. He’s pleasantly surprised.

Will hands Nico his cup of tea with a proud look on his face. “Didn’t even injure myself,” he beams. “I’m very proud.”

“I’m proud too,” Nico tells him. “Go on. Have your tea. You deserve it.”

“I do,” Will agrees. His tea is on the counter, cooling down, and Will glances at it. “I’m the master.”

“You are.”

“I’m glad we can agree.”

“How could I ever disagree?” Nico says. “Come on. High five.”

Will grins. Nico thinks about kissing him for 0.2 seconds until he promptly rejects the thought. He’s still a stranger, even if they have gone on this ghost hunt together, and discussed business initiative, and he’s really cute. That changes nothing. Obviously.

He raises his hand in waiting.

And then, as Will reaches up to give him said high five, disaster strikes. To be fair, it was bound to eventually. But as Will’s hand raises up to meet Nico’s, his elbow goes flying out in the direction of the counter, and the mug, in the collision, goes flying, and topples off behind Will’s arm and crashes onto the floor and promptly splits into about ten different pieces as the tea drenches the cupboards, the newly cleaned floor, and Will’s leg.

“See!” he exclaims. “This is what I mean! Things like this! They happen constantly! I’m cursed, I tell you, what the hell.”

“Will,” Nico says slowly. “You do realise that you knocked the mug off the counter, right? Not some ghost or invisible being. It was literally you. Hence the coffee on your elbow.”

“Yeah,” Will says. “I mean, that’s usually what happens, but that doesn’t mean a ghost isn’t here, dictating the events.”

Nico gapes at him. “Oh my god,” he mutters. “Will! You idiot, you’re not being haunted, you’re just clumsy.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not just clumsiness,” Will argues weakly, but Nico knows that they both know he’s right. “It happens way too often to be a coincidence.”

“It’s not a coincidence,” Nico says.

“Yeah,” Will agrees. “I have a poltergeist.”

“No you don’t. It’s normal. It even has a name.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. It’s called really clumsy.”

“Ah,” Will says. He seems to ponder the thought for a moment. “Maybe I’m not being haunted then.”

“Did you mean, no shit?” Nico says, sarcastically, and Will laughs.

“Okay, you were right, I suppose,” Will shrugs. “It was kind of fun though, right? I hope I didn’t waste your evening. To be honest though, I don’t know for sure yet. I’m still not entirely convinced. It could just be hiding from you.”

“Nah, you didn’t. I mean, I had fun,” Nico says. Will gives him a small smile. Nico realises that the amount of emotion they are lowkey showing is disgusting, and dives into the other topic. “To be honest, you might be right, it could be,” he says, and he nods.

“Or maybe you’re the ghost. And you’ve just dressed yourself up in human form.”

Nico shrugs. He kind of really wants to kiss him, still. He can’t believe he’d spent his whole Friday night searching for a ghost. The things he’ll do for a cute boy is quite embarrassing. “You have no way of knowing,” he says, egging Will on.

Will pokes him in the side. “Hmm,” he says. “Feels real, to be honest.”

Nico gives him an innocent look. “Well, I mean,” he says. “There’s only a few ways to find out. Proper scientists conduct investigations, don’t they?”

“Experiments are very important in any case of paranormal activity,” Will agrees, a glint in his eye, and a grin on his face. Nico smiles back, too, and Will’s eyes drop to his lips and linger. Nico may not be quite as subtle as the poltergeist, but at least it’s led him to be able to take a hint.

He leans in quickly, and before he can change his mind he presses a chaste, gentle kiss on Will’s lips, lasting for a few seconds, before he pulls back, only half an inch, still so close to Will, and says, “wait, shit. That’s what we were talking about, right? I didn’t get the wrong idea?”

Will laughs a little. “That’s what we were talking about,” he confirms. “And you had exactly the right idea.”

Nico breathes out a sigh of relief, and Will pulls him closer and kisses him again, properly this time, slow. And if this is what the ghost chase has been leading up to this whole time then yeah, Nico definitely hasn’t wasted his Friday night. They keep kissing, slow and soft, and Nico can’t help but smile against his lips.

Maybe neighbours aren’t all bad, he thinks.

“Wait,” Will says, pulling back. “Maybe we should go to your place. You know, just in case the ghost is watching.” There’s a twinkle in his eye, and Nico wants to groan, but he wants to kiss him more and so he does, and again, before he actually answers him.

“Thought I was the ghost,” he says, and Will shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. “I think you’re normal. Well, to an extent. You did just assist a near stranger in a hunt for paranormal activity for the past, like, four hours.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Never mind,” he says. “Poltergeist or no poltergeist, I can’t do this here. I’ll be too distracted by the memory of searching for signs of the illuminati.”

Will laughs, and kisses him again. Says, “yours, then?” and yeah. Nico can work with that.

The last time Nico invited a boy back to his apartment past midnight was a while ago, and though it didn’t come after a lengthy search of a non-existent (he hopes) poltergeist and the emergence of a career in ghost busting, he has to admit that he likes the way it went a lot better this time.

#solangelo #solangelo fanfic #solangelo fanfiction #fic #i wrote this a few years ago as a different ship BUT i think it works better as solangelo lmao #SO IF U HAVE READ THIS BEFORE I AM NOT A PLAGIARIST im just suffering writers block #also excuse all my accidental brit speak idk what america is

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tamingthegods-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 3: Let’s Go On A Tour...Maybe??

♤Samuel♤

“Tell me about yourself, since you know all about me,” Anubis smiled at me as he laid on his bed with his head propped up on his hand so he could look at me.

“I don’t know everything about you. I only know what I’ve read. So, pretty much the important role that you play in the afterlife and how you had the most important role as god of the dead in the old kingdom until the middle kingdom came around and replaced your high-ranking role with Osiris and a bunch of other tales of how you became a god,” I explain as I push up my glasses and turn around so I was facing him.

"That didn't answer my question, Samuel," He states.

"Call me Sam, Please," I ask with a small smile.

“Okay Sam, now answer my question before I start getting physical with you, ow,” Anubis twitched. He must have gotten shocked again. What was he thinking exactly?

“R-Right, sorry,” I look away from him. “I’m twenty-four years old, six foot. I went to college for art and have my bachelor's degree in fine arts. And I'm a freelancing artist who sells merchandise based off shows and video games," I explain quickly.

“Care to explain that with more details?” He asked looking very confused.

"Yes, sorry, a bachelor's degree means that I studied four years in a college, which is where humans go to continue their education in order to get a piece of paper that says that I can do art ultimately. But since I didn’t want to attempt to get a job at a museum or continue with school to go into being a school teacher or a therapist, I decided to start drawing this thing that us humans call fan art and sell it at conventions. Fan art is where when you’re a fan of a show or a video game and you draw characters from the show or video game. A convention is a huge gathering of people who all like the same type of video games or shows and they dress up as characters from said video games or shows. That’s where I would sell my fan art that I’ve drawn to others so they can hang them on their walls back at home or gift them to other people,” I explain, but at the same time I feel like I probably just confused him a hell of a lot more. “If there was a way that I could show you what exactly it is I’m talking about it would be easier. But I don’t know how to do that considering I don’t know if we’re allowed to leave or what is it that we’re supposed to be doing.”

Anubis’s eyes widened at my explanation and he stared at me, “Is it like a worshiping thing?”

“Um…well, in a way it is, but there are also people who take things too far and worship characters from shows like a god…um…so you have paper and a pen or pencil that I can kinda draw it for you? Or draw you something to try to help? I can get it if you tell me where it is,” I ask starting to talk with my hands because I’m getting nervous.

Anubis snapped his fingers and out of thin air, a small ball of light appeared and then formed into a larger ball before floating off somewhere in the room. He comes floating back with some papyrus and a pen. “Fair enough,” I mumble as it floats over to me with the modern-day pen and the papyrus. I take them from the small ball, “Thank you.” The ball bounces slightly before disappearing. “Did you know the modern-day word paper actually came from the word papyrus?” I ask Anubis as I feel papyrus for the first time and with my hands examine the thickness of it.

“No,” He answered simply as I set the papyrus down on the bed and begin drawing with it. Instead of drawing someone from Overwatch or some anime I choose to draw an anime version of Anubis to help.

"Well, just like how Papyrus is papyrus weed weaved and mashed together paper is about the same. Paper is just weaving fibers of cellulose pulp derived from wood, rags, or grasses and then pressed into flexible sheets once they're dry," I finish a quick chibi of Anubis when I saw him in his god form and then begin to work on a full body image of him. "But, the word paper is a mixture between papyrus and the Anglo-Norman French word Papir. Somehow the word paper came from both those words, but papyrus was first," I chuckle as I continue to work. Anubis kept quiet as I worked and talked to him. I finish his full body and then take off my shoes and get onto my knees and walk over to him over the mattress on my knees over to him and set the papyrus down. “This is you, and this is also you. There are different types of styles in drawing. But, what I just did is also call fan art, because I’m also a fan of yours. This style is my main style in drawing, it’s called an anime style.”

He pointed at the chibi and his pointed ears perked up, “What is this called and why am I so tiny with a large head?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his reaction, “This is called a chibi. It’s a Japanese slang word describing something short. The original word is chibiru, which means to wear out and become short. Through it being used it’s meaning got sort of warped and turned into a style where the character is chibi when they are drawn with oversized heads and small bodies, kinda making them into a child like version of the real thing.” I answer with a smile. I’m happy that he’s so interested in this.

He sat up and it looks like he was thinking about it then he rose his right hand and snapped his fingers and a large cloud exploded from him I started coughing and waving the smoke away. When all of it cleared a small very adorable version of Anubis, ears, tail, and all like how we first met was now sitting on the bed looking up at me, “Like this?” He questioned.

I stared at him without answering him. Not even thinking I reached out for him and picked him up. Holding him out at arm’s length and staring at him in amazement I then brought him into my chest and started hugging him, “You’re so cute!!” I laugh and rub my cheek on his head, “I didn’t know you could do this! I just wanna hug you all day now,” I laugh as I continue to hold onto him.

He put his hands on my chest and pushed away from me, “Aaaaahh!! Too much attention in a way I don’t want it!!” He fussed in my arms.

“But you’re too cute!!” I laugh as he struggles to get out of my grasp. Suddenly, another huge cloud of smoke overs both of us and I start coughing as I feel my arms spread apart. I feel a hot breath brush against my lips as deep blue and gold eyes stare at me as I look over my glasses. Anubis poofed back into his human form with his pointed ears and his firm chest rested against my shoulders, he's looking down at me and I feel my face heat up as I can't break eye contact with him.

“How about now?” He questioned in a love sexual voice. It feels like my heart is going to pound out of my chest with how close he is to me.

“I-I um… I-I don’t know…” I can’t even form a full sentence.

“Don’t wanna give me that same affection when I’m bigger?” He smirked down at me and I didn’t know how to respond.

"I-I-I can't…r-really do the same thing…when you're big…" My face feels like a raging inferno and I can't get myself to let go of him in fear I might fall off the bed from panicking and spazzing because I'm so close to an actual god.

He growled a bit in a playful manner as he licks his lips, "I won't hurt you, I'll be good to you," He spoke sweetly and then he jerked away from me and I fell backward off the bed from the sudden movement. Landed on my shoulders and neck with a thud and my feet up in the air and against the bed I groan a bit from the growing pain in the back of my head.

“Ow,” I mumble as I sit there in that position for a moment before pulling my legs away from the bed and flipping myself over so I’m on my knees. I rub the back of my head and roll my shoulders to try to get the pain to go away.

“Son of a fuck, cock sucking, mother fucker, get this god damn thing off me, for fuck's sake!" Anubis shouted as I stood back up and look at him. He was on his bed and trying to pull at the collar that was placed around his neck.

“A-Anubis, it’s not coming off, please stop before you hurt yourself,” I crawl back on the bed to attempt to get him to stop. I grab his arm that's closest to me and attempt to pull it away from his collar, but he tightens the muscles in his arm so I can't move it, "Come on, stop being such a brat and just let go, waa," He let go and I was pulling too hard and I end up falling back, but luckily this time I didn't fall off the bed. I sit back up and look at him, "It's not coming off and you know that" I pick up the charm to my own necklace and show it to him, "These are not coming off until you learn what you need to. I don't know how I'm supposed to help you with that, but gods damn it I'm going to do it,” I let the charm fall again and then sit back on my legs and sigh. “If we were given more information as to what I’m supposed to do to help that collar come off faster for you I would. I don’t like seeing you get shocked as much as you don’t like getting shocked.

He seemed to calm down, but still looks frustrated, “Do you want me to draw for you more? Would that help you relax a bit?”

“No, I can’t get it off so you try,” He pointed at his collar and I sigh a little before crawling over to him and reaching out for his collar. Turning my hand around so my palm was up and attempt to slip my fingers under his collar. Not getting anywhere like that I flip my hand back over again try to get my fingers under his collar that way. I manage to slip my pointer and middle finger under the collar and then I get a stupid high voltage shock through my body. My ark jerks and I pull Anubis into me as I fall back onto the bed from the sock. The wind is knocked out of me when he falls on top of me.

“Oooowwwww,” I groan loudly as I get back breath back. Slowly shaking my arm, it hurts and stings.

“I don’t know what exactly hurts worse. That second shock or your knee in my crotch,” Anubis chuckles and I feel my face heat up and I realize that I feel the fabric against the side of my leg and my knee is against the sleek fabric that feels like compression shorts.

“I-I-I-I’m so sorry,” I panic and try to pull my leg away and end up kneeing him more and he lets out a loud and sexual groan which only makes my heart pound even more from embarrassment.

“You’re so thin and delicate,” And then he twitched a bit making my knee shift another loud moan came from him.

“I’m sorry,” I pull at his blankets and manage to pull myself out from under him. Clutching at my shirt I press my fist into my chest to somehow attempt to slow down my pounding heart.

Anubis chuckled at my reaction as he continued to lay there on the bed. He smirked up at me and I’m sure if he had his tail right now it would be slowly wagging, “You’re quite interesting I’ll give you that Sam. Most humans that I find and want to have some fun with me can’t resist me and yet you had your leg right up against my crotch and it didn’t seem to make you aroused in any way. Are you straight?”

I look away from him embarrassed, “N-No, I’m not straight,” I mean his body is gorgeous and I've wanted to touch him to make sure he's actually real and this all isn't just some figment of my imagination or something. But, at the same time, his punishment is because he's too sexual so as much as he wants it, then that defeats the purpose of this who thing right? I have to be strong and not let his sexual drive over take me.

“Then what’s the problem, just a quick one, I’ll be gentle with you since you seem to be nervous.” I felt my face heat up even more and then quickly shake my head declining his offer, “Come on Sam, it’ll be something that you’ll never forget.” He twitched again. Obviously, he’s thinking of something lewd.

I look down at my lap completely embarrassed, “I’ve never had sex before.” I mumble low enough to pray that he didn’t actually hear me.

Anubis starts laughing at my embarrassment and I started fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt, “I’m sorry, it is rude of me to laugh. You’re just so intriguing. You also seem to have quite a bit of knowledge for someone so young.” The smile that was on his lips fell and his expression turned serious, “I’ll be back.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask watching him sit up and make his way off the bed and make his way over to the door.

"I have to go and perform one of my duties. You just stay here and don't worry, I'll return as soon as it's over to continue our conversation." He opened the door and looked back at me.

“Oh, okay,” I lock eyes with him again and I can see that he’s smiling in his eyes.

“I want to watch you draw when I get back,” I nod at his request and then he leaves the room, closing the door behind him as he left.

Now I sit here, alone, in a god’s room. I look around the room that’s very Egyptian themed. His bed is plush and fit for a king. “This room is really nice,” I mutter and then look at the door. “If I don’t go far…maybe I can get back before he’s done,” I mumble to myself and get off his bed. The stone floor is cold even through my socks. I put my shoes back on and head over to the door. Turning the handle and pulling it open I have to put my weight into it to get it opened enough to slip my body between it and the door frame so I could push it open the rest of the way. "Okay," I sigh happily as I finally get the door all the way open. "It shouldn't be that bad I'll just go a couple doors down and then come back." I go to take a step and it feels like my foot hits an invisible wall. "Hua?" I pull my foot back and swing my foot at the opening again. And once again my foot is stopped before it can get past the threshold of the room. I put my hands out and they hit the same wall, "What's going on?" I pound on the air in front of me like it's a wall, but it doesn't make a sound.

I see a familiar head of black hair come into my view, “Hey Sam!!” James waved as he broke away from his god I think he said his name was Jabari.

"Hey Jay," I smiled putting my hands down.

“What’s up?” He asked coming over to me.

“Not too much, Anubis had to leave and do one of his duties, I wanted to explore just a little but I can’t get out of the room,” I comment and Jay looks at me confused.

He sticks his hand into the room like there was nothing there, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but come with us! Jabari is showing me around the place!!” Jay grabbed my hand and pulled.

“James, I wouldn’t,” It was too late I had slammed into the invisible wall. “Do that…”

“What the hell?” Jay asked trying to pull my hand through but it wasn’t going anywhere.

"It's the power of a command of a god. When thy God has given someone a command and the other agrees to it then the command is set until the god releases that command," Jabari explained for us and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm assuming he told you to not leave the room correct?"

“Well, he told me to stay here and that he would be back, but I was only going to go two doors down and then come right back,” I answer and press my body against the invisible wall.

Jabari shifted his weight to his right and crossed his arms, "That's kinda shitty of Anubis to do. He's keeping you to himself."

“We have Jaeger and Shane down the hall. We came to come find you to come with us,” Jay said a bit disappointed that I literally couldn’t leave the room.

“Hey Jay, come here for a moment please,” Jabari said and Jay turns around.

“Yeah sure,” He walks back over to Jabari and Jabari put a hand on his head before walking away from him.

“Sam, I really need your help Jay can’t move from his spot can you come here please?” Jabari asked and smirks at me.

"Uh, yeah, I can help," I agree and then suddenly the wall disappeared and I came stumbling out of the room.

“There we go,” He smiled happily, “Jay you can come here now. I just needed you to stay put to make it look like you couldn’t move.”

“Not a problem, how did ya do that though?” Jay asked as Jabari patted my head and then he started walking away from us. I look at Jay and we catch up to him.

“It’s simple, if another god makes a pressing matter where we need someone who’s under the command of a gods help, we can break that command in order for that being that’s under it to help us.” He explained.

Jaeger and Shane came into view as they were looking out a window, “Good now that we’re all together, let’s get this tour started!!! You four might as well know where you’re going to be living and get used to it.”

“Jabari, question,” I speak up.

“Call me Jab,” I smile before spinning on his heels to lead us around.

“Alright, what’s going to happen back on earth then?”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks wanting more of a clarification.

“What I mean is, are people going to realize that we’re gone?”

“Oh, no, being brought here you’ve been erased from existence,” He answered like it was a simple thing. But his words hang heavy in the air around us. “No one remembers you. If you ever choose to go back then we’ll rewrite you into the world and give you memories to replace the ones you could have had there instead of being here.” His voice sounds a bit sad by having to explain this.

“What about our memories from here?” I ask in a softer voice.

“That’s up to you and your god. If you would like to keep your memories you’re more than welcome to. If not then we can erase those as well,” I took a deep breath and I watched his shoulders go up and then he spun around and smiled at the four of us, “But I know that I wish for all of you to stay. You’re all quite interesting and I enjoy hearing more about how the four of you became just good friends.”

“Why were we called here exactly? Aphrodite didn’t give the best explanation,” Shane spoke up.

“Well, it’s because we have issues that she feels you can help us with and you all have your issues that we can help you with,” Jab answered and I tipped my head as I looked at him. What does he mean by that?

“I mean, we all have issues, that shit happens,” Jaeger points out.

Jab just smiled at us before turning back around once more and we continue with the tour. He showed us where we can get food if we’re hungry, where the library was, where everyone was staying. Then we were shown the very large garden and green house and a couple of other places before he took us back to the dining hall because Jaeger’s stomach made a very large growl. Whatever we ask for the spirits there bring the food out to us. I just asked for a garden salad, Jay gets a chicken Caesar wrap on a spinach tortilla, Shane joins me in the salad department and gets a Greek salad, and Jaeger couldn’t pick so Jab ordered a stake for him. As we eat Jab explains that it's best for all of us to be out of the rooms anyway because the spirits are making rooms that will attach to their god's room that fits us.

“So, like Sam’s room will be a studio or something, because he’s an artist?” Jay comments with a mouth full of wrap.

Jab chuckles, “Exactly, you’re will be a sports type room I’m assuming.”

I look up as my fork is in my mouth and see a very displeased Anubis standing behind Jabari. I watch him place a hand on the back of Jabari's chair and then another on his hip, "So, Jabari, why have you stolen all of the humans for yourself? Oh, and why did you break my command on Sam hmmm?" He asked and Jab's ears went back and he looked up as Anubis looked down at him.

"I was giving them a tour since this is their new home and all. Besides, I didn't steal all of them, just Sam," He chuckled.

“And why exactly did you break my command?” Anubis sounded very serious.

“Because Jay wanted Sam too for the tour, also you can’t just keep him locked up in your room. That’s not letting him enjoy his time. Let him live a little, besides the spirits work faster when there’s no one into the rooms anyway," Jab said kind of avoiding completely answering Anubis's question.

Anubis grumbled and let go of Jab and his chair. He then proceeds to walk over to me and take a seat on my left. He crossed his legs, crossed his arms over his chest and then tipped his head up ever so slightly and stared at Jabari. I just continued to look at Anubis as he stared at Jab. He then turned to me and looked down to meet my gaze, “If you wanted a tour, I could have shown you around myself if you had asked.”

“We can still go for another one. I don’t mind,” I mumble with my fork near my mouth.

"Keeping Sam trapped in a room isn't the best for him anyway," Jay spoke up and I looked over at everyone else.

“And why is that? He draws yes?” Anubis asks.

“The kid can run,” Jaeger comments.

“Yeah, he runs more than five miles in a day then he’ll normally work out,” Shane adds in.

“It’s because I sit for so long, I need to get up and move somehow,” I speak up quickly.

"That's not to count the fact that when you need a break there are times where you'll go for another mile run or so," I sink more into my chair when Jaeger makes the comment.

"Do you have some strange condition that does not allow you to sit still for long periods of time?" Anubis asked and Jay snorted.

“Yeah, it’s called he was a track and field player along with cross country all throughout high school and college,” Jay comments.

“It’s just been ground into me that it’s hard to stay still, so when I don’t really have anything to do I kinda get a bit antsy,” I answer truthfully.

“There are plenty of places in the garden to run. There’s even a trail that goes around the entire thing if you need it,” Jab points out to me.

“I’ll have to check it out,” I mumble setting my fork down on an empty plate, “But, what do you want to do Anubis?”

“You should totally hang out with us, Jab was gonna show us the gym and pool after this!” Jay states sounding really excited about it.

“It’s up to you Anubis,” I comment, “If we hang out with my friends a bit longer I’ll draw whatever you want me to draw for you.” I offer and wait for his response.

#OCstory #ocs #anubis(oc)#samuel #Godsstory #tamingthegods #jabari #totg

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