#but maybe the limb will snap soon? gosh i sure hope so

[spittingstar]

doa

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Philosophy and Story

Team Phantom meets the other Lumano, the liminal husbands have questions for the teens and the kids want some training and answers of their own.

ao3 @floralflowerpower@uwuplasmiusuwu hope you enjoy! Hapy casual tuesday

Danny’s fear was a tangible thing that coiled around his every limb and held him frozen in place for all of 3 seconds, power racing to his hands to unleash the biggest blast he could manage in order to get the threat before it could get him. A sigh joined the echoes and Toby slapped the man beside him upside the head, much to the ghost’s visible – and soon audible – amusement. “Stop scaring the kids.”

“Ok but their faces!” The blue ghost man, who Danny assumed was Cole now that he could think some semblance of straight, bent over with laughter, his body wreathed now in a rainbow. His laughter was joined by Sam’s, as everyone else slowly relaxed.

“Oh my gosh, you guys didn’t actually get scared by that, did you? All he said was boo.” Sam shook her head, and Cole clapped his hands loudly.

“Oh, I like you. Not many people can handle when I’m trying to spook em, specially not kids like y’all.” Cole flew closer, holding a hand out to Sam and another to Danny. “Cole Lumano, Toby’s husband and, according to someone whose name I’m forgetting at the moment, ‘The Raging Storm’.”

Toby rolled his eyes while Sam confidently shook Cole’s hand and Danny arched a brow at him. “Your cousin gave you that title. Ya know, for his song about our adventures?”

“Maybe it shouldn’t’ve been so catchy, cause a lotof people started calling me that, and while it was funny sometimes it was also kind of annoying.”

“Hi,” Jazz said, holding out her hand to Cole, which he also shook. “I’m just wondering why you thought scaring us was an appropriate first greeting? You might’ve scared off your potential student, after all.”

“Oh, that was a test, to see how easy y’all are to scare, what your immediate fear response is, and how fast you snap out of fear and into action. Also, it was, again, really funny.” Cole crossed his arms, the rainbow lining his being dimming a bit as he circled the group like a shark. “Plus, if a little prank was enough to scare you off then either I’m not the teacher for you and ya need to find someone else, or I’ve been away from people long enough to forget how to talk with em. People fear so easily, after all.”

“That’s… a fair list of reasons, I guess.” Danny twisted his head around and around to keep an eye on Cole, who grinned and ruffled Danny’s hair. “Hey, I put a whole two seconds’ worth of effort into that hairdo today.”

“Monumental, I’m sure,” Cole drawled. “So, you want me to teach you how to get the weather to do what you want it to, right?”

“I was actually planning to learn how to make ice cream with my ghost powers from you, but weather control will do, I guess.”

Cole barked out booming laughter and wrapped an arm around Danny. “Oh, we’ve got a funny one, you know how to find ‘em babe.”

“Yeah, I do. However, I do have something I want to discuss before we go about training, and that has to do with that list of ghosts you’ve given us.” Toby pulled out the list and Danny sucked on his teeth while Tucker and Sam grinned. “Based on our experiences in life, it’s not smart to go into an area and just start killing people.”

“Right, uh Cole, can you promise that you’re not gonna kill anyone on that list?” Danny had his doubts but he had to at least try.

“Firstly: no. Secondly:a bit late for that.”

“You can keep some of them safe by telling us what exactly they even did. Some of these people could just use a stern talking to, while others might need more drastic measures taken.”

Jazz cleared her throat and stepped forward, holding up her notebook. “On that note, we have a few more questions for the two of you, which we have collectively agreed to ask you. Does an answer per story sound like a fair trade?”

Toby grinned ear to ear and held out his hand, which Jazz shook firmly. “It certainly does. Are we training in here?”

“No.” Danny coughed into his fist and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, no, I don’t wanna risk breaking something in here. Outside though, we can definitely do.” Danny flew backwards until he phased through the roof and Sam and Tucker both sighed before heading out through the doors. Cole followed Danny through the roof, and Jazz and Toby shook their heads, walking to the doors like civilized people.

“Fair enough. Fire away your questions, Jazz.”

“There’s something on here that I personally want to know that I’m sure Danny will be interested in as well. Our parents are considered the world’s greatest experts on all things ghost, which isn’t very hard to achieve in a field of study that is effectively only 1.2 years old that you yourself create, but they have an irrational bias against ghosts.”

“Yeah, don’t your folks think that ghosts can’t feel pain?”

“Oh, Tucker, if only.” Danny scowled. “’ If we hear screaming, we know it’s working!’”

Jazz sighed, gripping her notebook hard enough to bend it. “That was a disturbingly accurate imitation of our father’s voice, Danny, I didn’t know you could reach that low. Have you been keeping up on your vocal training?”

Danny beamed and gave a thumbs up, floating a little higher while Cole circled him, lightning arcing across the genasi’s body in tiny flashes. “Your parents sound shitty.”

“They are… excellent mechanical and chemical engineers, but neither of them has actually captured a ghost for study before, even during the invasion, and they’ve never exactly stopped to ask questions when they see a ghost just minding their own business. So, I wanted to clarify on one of their theories.” Toby shrugged and nodded, rolling his shoulders. “My parents believe that ghosts are all supernaturally driven by an obsession that keeps them stabilized, and that if one were to prevent a ghost from fulfilling or at least temporarily satisfying that obsession, they would destabilize and dissolve into a puddle of inert ectoplasm.”

Toby steepled his hands in front of his face and grass began to grow up between the cracks of the sidewalk path leading up to the observatory. “Mm, that is certainly something based on the whole ‘unfinished business’ thing, isn’t it? Well, gosh, how do I put this?”

“While Toby decides how to explain passions and shit, I think I know where to start with this training thing. I’m told your mortal face looks much the opposite of this?”

Danny’s head snapped up at the sound of Cole and he shrugged. “I was wearing this during the portal accident but it was white with black gloves and boots before. I think I have a backup one back at the house, actually.”

“First of all your choice in fashion is atrocious,” Cole said.

“How would you know, you’re naked!”

“No, he has a point, Danny,” Sam said. “Just because it’s all black doesn’t mean it looks good.”

“Some friend you are,” Danny grumbled, conjuring up a ball of ectoplasm to flick Cole’s way. Cole responded by flicking his wrist and kicking up a gust of wind that pushed Danny back a good 5 feet. “Dude, you gotta show me how you did that.”

“First I gotta see what you can do. So, what can you do, kid? I’ve only ‘fought’ one ghost round here and he was in a big metal contraption so that honestly doesn’t feel like it counts.”

“Oh, David’ll get you for sayin that,” Toby mumbled.

“So, I don’t know what y’all round here can do with your magic. C’mon kid hit me up.” Danny shrugged before putting on a smirk and taking a swing at Cole, which wasn’t even dodged. Instead, Cole turned into a cloud that Danny sailed through and solidified with his arms around Danny in a chokehold. “Nice try, but no. I mean the kinda shit like what I just pulled, kid, I know there’s no way in hell you’re gonna hurt me with a punch.”

“Oh yeah, then why’d ya dodge?”

“Cause I don’t want you breakin yer fist on my chest. I’ve seen some wimp hear that I’m an air genasi and they think that they can just hit the cloud man and nothin bad’ll happen, so they came at me full force. There’s a lotta blood in your hand once it’s split open, ya know.”

“Right so, the way your parents describe it, and even the way they named it, is… inaccurate.” Toby pitched his voice to try and carry over the description that Cole was, no doubt, about to go into. “The core that I described earlier? In a ghost that is the brain, through which one controls and even rebuilds their body. Still, even if one can destroy a ghost’s core, it would take a very verypowerful god to destroy a soul.”

“Isn’t that what the core is, though? Wouldn’t the soul be the brain of a ghost?”

“Not really, Sam, no. See, souls are always on the move to somewhere when you die, your flesh and blood – or wires and steel, etcetera – is simply a vessel for your soul to inhabit, and a ghost is no different from any other body. The core allows for a soul to interact with the ectoplasm surrounding it, or if there’s not a lot of that then whatever they can get themselves into. This is why shoving a soul directly into a construct is a terrible idea, because there’s no brain to do all the important things that brains do.”

Tucker tilted his head to the side. “I’ll be honest, I’m surprised you know about brains.”

“I’m a healer back home, and while I couldhave let the magic do all the work, that felt lazy. So, I did some learning and, admittedly, let the magic help me with that learning. Now I know lots of things.”

“He’s learned a great deal from fucking around and finding out, you see,” Cole said, whistling when Danny turned himself into a cloud of green mist to get out of his light chokehold. “Very good! That’s the kinda stuff I’m tryna find out about you kid.”

“Ok, what does the function of a ghostly core have to do with obsessions and unfinished business?” Jazz had a pencil out and was taking notes down at a speed normal people would find alarming. Nobody at the gathering was normal, however, so no one commented on it.

“Right, well, ghostly bodies are hard as hell to damage, even if you’ve got the magic needed to make contact with them. Cores are practically made of diamond for how hard it is to crack one, let alone destroy it. Ghosts are, effectively, immortal outside of the absolute worst possible conditions.”

“Sometimes a ghost is wrapping up unfinished business on the mortal plane where they last lived but most of the time they pick a hobby to keep from going insane from boredom.” Cole shrugged and gave Danny a beckoning gesture, fists raised with a grin on his face. “Ya can’t do nothin for eternity without losing your mind, so you pick something and do that for however long it entertains you.”

“Exactly!” Toby didn’t bat an eye when Danny fired off several ectoblasts at Cole, who took them to the arms and chest with a laugh. “Some people can get a tad obsessive, but that’s a tendency of everyone I think. Of course, I will say there’s usually a bit of compulsion apparent when a ghost does reach the mortal world and is able to get down to that unfinished business.”

“What’s more engaging than crossing out your bucket list even after you kick the bucket?” Danny ducked a tackle from Cole and threw up a shield when he spun around to try again. “What am I even supposed to be showing you?”

“Didn’t you shock that one ghost cop or whatever he was with his own whip?” Tucker scrolled through his PDA and nodded to himself. “You told us you’d done that when I asked. Think you can do it again?”

Danny furrowed his brow, looking down at his hands and wondering how he was supposed to conjure that up again. “I honestly don’t know how I did that. You got any ideas for letting out a zap, wispy?”

Cole snorted and ruffled Danny’s hair with a snort. “It came pretty naturally for me, but I was also a whole ass teenager when I started shootin out lightning, not a baby.”

“Alright, how long until I’m considered an adult by ghost standards? Being called a toddler is getting old.” Danny folded his arms over his chest, legs turning into a tail while Cole held up his hands in faux surrender.

“That we don’t know yet,” Toby said with a shrug. “We’ll have to ask around. But hey, that was 2 questions from y’all so it’s time for some stories about these ghosts.” Toby waved a hand and the concrete around them rose up as if it were liquid, settling into seats for the four of them on the ground. “Any of them that you wanna tell us about first or shall we pick?”

“Shall? When’d you get so fancy, antler boy?” Cole dropped down to drape himself over Toby’s back regardless, and the blond scratched his chin.

Jazz, meanwhile, considered her options carefully and decided that starting off with the absolute worst ghosts they had collectively had to deal with would put a sour taste in everyone’smouth. “If I remember correctly from what I’ve been told, the first sapient ghost that you all fought was the Lunch Lady, right?”

Danny and Tucker nodded while Sam groaned loudly. “She was so aggravating.”

“Is it because you were forced to consider that maybe being a vegan isn’t for everyone and you shouldn’t force your ‘healthy food choices’ down everyone’s throat whether they want it or not?” Tucker offered a sunny grin to Sam’s dark glower. “I’ll admit, the food at the cafeteria sucks ass, but that isn’t because there’s meat on the menu.”

Cole and Toby stared unblinkingly at the four of them, and Danny let out a long suffering sigh that lasted much longer than humanly possible. It went on for a good minute before Tucker threw an eraser at him. “Why do you- no, I don’t need to know. Right, her. Ok, so this might sound ridiculous if you haven’t done any research on like, modern America yet.”

“We haven’t, but don’t worry I can.”

“We can,” Cole said with a pout.

“Right, sorry, I will.” Toby laughed as he was given a noogie and shoved Cole back. “Continue.”

“Right,” Danny said, floating in a wheel with his legs crossed. “So, Sam convinced the schoolboard through what I assume to be an amazing combination of pestering and bribery to change the menu at our school’s cafeteria for a week to her strange diet, including grass that was growing out a bun, and quite literally nobody but people who – like Sam – refuse to eat things that come from animals liked that.”

“That doesn’t sound like an all that healthy diet,” Toby said, frowning. “I’m no chef but I’m pretty sure a lot of nutrients come from meat.”

“I prefer not to benefit from the suffering of defenseless living beings,” Sam muttered. Toby arched a brow and made a note of that to address later.

“Apparently one of the lunch ladies who serves the food to us students but like, 50 years ago, sensed that the menu had been changed, and came to the school to investigate. She blew her lid when she found out that there was no meat, cheddared our ears off about how essential meat is in someone’s diet, and kidnapped Sam to try and make her eat it.”

“If she’s only 50 years dead, that’s actually pretty understandable. Her ghost would’ve only just formed and I guess she took a great deal of pride in making that menu,” Toby said, pulling from the bag strapped to his waist a leather bound notebook and pen, and started writing. “Anything else of note with this one?”

“She called Danny scrawny, then pulled all the meat in the basement of the school into a giant monstrosity made entirely out of processed corpses.” Sam shuddered and rubbed her arms. “It was so incredibly gross to be trapped in a pile of meat.”

“That’s both disgusting and wasteful,” Cole said, face scrunching up and the air around them cooling drastically. “That’s so much food!”

“Oh, and one time when I was in prison I saw her make a giant turkey leg to beat people up with,” Danny added, a mildly exciting afterthought. Toby, skilled at schooling his facial expressions, waited until he’d written that all down to look up and stared directly into Danny’s shining green eyes. “What?”

“Why were you in prison?”

[starlocked01]

The Black Coffee Widower

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 3- Coffee Shop

WC: 4.2K

Summary: Virgil works the late-night shift at the local coffee shop. That's where he poisons and picks up his victims. He wasn't ready for the one who didn't fight back.

Content Warnings (there's a lot today): Serial Killer/Coffee Shop AU Unsympathetic Virgil, Poisoning, Kidnapping, Swearing, Gun Violence, Negative Self-talk, Self Hatred, Murder and Attempted Murder, Implied Sexual content. Sexual innuendo, referenced rape, referenced mutilation, Strangulation, Hospitals, Police

@dukexietyweek

The simple fact was that they glowed. Virgil had long ago given up on trying to explain it to himself; they just glowed when he saw them. It was like a premonition- a beautiful soft light that needed to be contained lest it sullied the rest of the world by leaving it dim and grungy in comparison.

Virgil was grungy. He knew very well he didn't and would never glow as they did. Maybe that was the reason why. Maybe if he ever had to tell someone why he did it, he'd tell them that.

He killed them because they glowed and no one should be able to glow.

However, he'd never cared all that much about the whys. The hows were so much more fun. How did he pick his victims? Easy. They glowed and walked in at the wrong time. How did a weak, little, pathetic loser subdue the perfect glowing people? Bitter coffee was a perfect cover for bitter poisons. How did he end their lives? Any way he pleased.

How did he avoid detection? A healthy dose of anxiety kept him careful. Too many of the brightest glowing people escaped because they'd be missed. He never went by his legal name anywhere. He stayed patient and alert. He was the nobody that no one could ever remember. Playing barista sucked but it was the perfect cover. No one ever suspected the sulky, little, dimwitted worker stuck on the insomniacs shift at the quiet little 24-hour cafe. And no one ever really noticed if the store's hours were a bit unpredictable between 2 am and 4 am. That was the best time for hunting; it worked and Virgil wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

---

Virgil knelt, his latest catch already unconscious and tied up behind the counter when the doorbell chimed. Cursing at himself for forgetting to lock the door, Virgil grabbed a refill pack of napkins and stood cautiously. He gasped, finding the man who had entered shone twice as brightly as the woman he already had tied up. Certain that Miss Double-Soy-Latte-with-Hazelnut-Syrup-and-Whipped-Cream-you-got-that-Sugar? wasn't about to wake up and cause a scene, Virgil watched the man as he studied the menu.

The first thing he would do is take the man’s studded wrist gauntlet and fishnet fingerless gloves. Those things couldn't belong to someone who glows. Virgil squinted and could just make out a loosely looped studded belt to match, hanging off the man’s hip and exposing his lack of undergarments. Virgil hungrily followed the curve of that hip with his eyes up to the man's stomach peeking out underneath the ragged edge of a homemade cropped band t-shirt. He wanted to punch that stomach, to feel what it was like when the man tensed and when he stayed soft in compliance.

Next, he stared at shapely arms crossed in front of the man's chest. Those arms looked strong as a vice and he wondered how much effort it would take to break those delicate bones to render the muscles useless. Would he break first?

The man wore a sleeveless leather vest, displaying a museum's worth of inkwork, tentacles and snakes, and other writhing forms accented periodically with teeth and eyes and fangs and beaks. A rendition of the Harry Potter Death Eater mark set into the shoulder and tattooed thorns circled his neck. Virgil found himself getting hot under the collar and decided two in one night would be a fun challenge.

It was hard to see the man’s face until he flashed Virgil a brilliantly blinding smile as if on cue. The smile was all the sign Virgil needed to know this man would die tonight. He was practically begging Virgil to save him from the light radiating from his face. His gorgeous, handsome, wild-eyed face.

Virgil wanted so badly to touch the messy, overdue 5 o'clock shadow, to feel the scars left by razor nicks and frequent skin irritation. He wanted to wipe away the heavy eyeliner and mascara, run dirty fingers through greasy, dyed hair. He wanted those eyes to see him for who he is so he could spare them the pain of hoping there had been another ending once he'd entered the shop.

If the stranger was uncomfortable with his intense gaze, he certainly didn't show it as he approached the counter. Virgil squirmed as a cacophony of overlapping mismatched beats of a second hand overwhelmed his entire sense of hearing. Looking down, he quickly spotted a wristwatch on the unconscious woman's wrist and stepped on it to deaden the maddening sound. Soon all he could hear was the new customer's watch ticking erratically as though it needed to be wound up.

"Heya, kitten! Like what you see, baby?" the man smirked at Virgil as he leaned down on the counter and made sultry suggestive eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" Virgil hissed, recoiling from the familiarity.

"Woah, kitty's got claws huh?" the man giggled. Virgil stiffened, well aware how close the man could come to looking down and spotting the woman. And if he attempted to turn him in it wouldn't end pretty. He didn't want to have to clean up the shop after a struggle before having his fun.

"What are you ordering?" Virgil asked tersely.

"Me-ow. Guess you don't swing my way- darn. I bet you've got a totally bodacious booty too," the man batted his eyelashes at Virgil.

"That isn't on the menu. Order or get lost, yeah?" Virgil growled, trying to seem as disinterested in the enticing man as he could manage.

"Right. Seven shots of espresso, a shot of creamer, and a shot of the pineapple ginger concentrate, s'il vous plait," the man listed off as though he'd ordered the same thing a hundred times.

Virgil froze, unsure how to ring up the disgusting concoction, "what the hell? What kind of drink is that?"

"It's like me. One of a kind," the man beamed, brushing bleached silver hair out of his eyes, "can you handle that, kitty kat?"

"Stop with the pet names," Virgil rolled his eyes and finished inputting the drink, "um.. that will be… $6.69."

"Eyo! Sixty niiiiiiine," the man giggled emphatically while pulling out his money to pay.

Virgil rolled his eyes, "childish. Name for the order?"

"Uh, your phone number."

"What?"

"Damn you don't take hints!" the man placed one hand on his chest and bowed with a flourish, "my name is Remus, and I think you're very cute, kitty kat."

"You are maddening! Just call me Virgil!" he snapped, getting a cup ready to prepare the last drink Remus would ever have, "it's gonna take a minute to pull all those shots. Gosh… that much caffeine could kill you…" Virgil smirked at his own joke.

Remus took the smirk for a friendly smile and grinned, "I got all night for you, Virgil."

"That's cute. I'll let you know when it's ready," Virgil smiled, making direct eye contact as he added his favorite blend of sedatives to Remus’s cup.

It only took 30 seconds before Remus hit the floor with a confused grunt. Virgil was almost impressed the man had downed half the drink in one gulp. Moving quickly, Virgil locked the shop and dragged Remus back behind the counter, binding and gagging the flirtatious idiot. Tonight was going to be so special.

---

It hadn’t been easy, moving both bodies- cursing his weak, pathetic self the entire time. He made sure to dose both of them again after stashing them in the trunk so he could go back and finish out his shift.

He smiled pleasantly at the officers who stopped by just before the morning shift, careful to not give them any reason to be suspicious as he packed up day-old donuts and prepared two drinks nearly as caffeinated as Remus’s drink had been but significantly less poisoned. But still a little poisoned because fuck the police.

It took every muscle in Virgil’s body to not run gleefully to the car when the morning shift came to relieve him from work. He hid his excitement behind his usual persona of snarky disinterest and exhaustion until he was safely in the car and blasting his favorite CD on the drive home.

Pulling directly into the garage, Virgil shut down the car and giggled as the door shut slowly on his prisoners' last hope for rescue. Working at a leisurely pace, Virgil dragged first Remus then the woman down into his basement, both drowsy and barely able to make a complaint. It only seemed fair they die in the order they'd been caught so Virgil laid Remus out on the couch while he tied the woman down to his workbench.

The woman began to moan pathetically just as Virgil was tying down the last limb. It was not a moment too soon. He chuckled to himself and smacked her face a few times to help her wake up.

"Look alive, sunshine! You won't be much longer, I'm afraid," Virgil quipped as she blinked awake and started to panic at the restraints holding her down.

God, he hated when they screamed almost as much as he hated the watches. Virgil waited as long as he could stand the high-pitched whining pleas for freedom and help before loudly shushing until she quieted.

"Shh! Stop yelling or I will restrict your breathing," Virgil hissed, laying a prohibitive finger to her lips, "I promise you'll live longer if you stay quiet."

"You'll let me go?"

"No. I'll just take my time," Virgil smirked as the color drained from her face and her lip began to quiver, "ohh. Ohh, don't be so dramatic, sweetheart. It's time to grow up and realize death is inevitable."

Virgil laughed as she started screaming again, only turning away when Remus stirred from his sleep.

"Oh, dear. You've woken up my other guest. Now you know, he's special. You're going to have the life choked out of you, slowly but surely, but he gets to lose a lot more than his life. Count yourself lucky, sweetheart." Virgil turned to examine the man on the couch again as he blearily blinked up at him.

"You coulda'sked, kitkat," Remus mumbled nearly incomprehensibly. Virgil tilted his head in confusion as he watched Remus. The man slowly regained awareness, and even as Virgil stood above him with a hard frown, he smiled back up at his captor.

"What the hell are you getting on about?" Virgil asked with a growl, hoping to startle that unsettling grin off Remus’ face.

Remus laughed, "you coulda just asked if you wanted to do a scene, cutie! Although I love the attention to realism. Like you actually drugged me to bring me home!"

Virgil stared, completely in shock at what he was hearing, "wait.. you think…"

"That you were too shy to ask me out so you drugged me and dragged me back home? Yes," Remus nodded enthusiastically, "if you have some whips and an electric hand mixer we can have some real fun, you sexy little kitten!" Remus bumped his eyebrows suggestively, leaving Virgil absolutely stunned.

"What is going on here?!?" the woman on the table cried out.

"Shut the hell up!" Virgil barked back at her, too confused to do much more than stare at Remus. Why did he like this? Why did Virgil like that Remus liked this? He felt hot and confused but also certain about one thing he absolutely wanted.

Experimentally he reached down and laid his hand on Remus’ exposed stomach. Watching Remus for his reaction, Virgil slowly slid his hand along the skin and up to Remus’s chest. Remus shut his eyes with a smile and shivered at the touch, "oh yeah, baby. I can purr for you, kitty. Anything you want."

Virgil inhaled sharply, pulling back his hand and looking back at the other prisoner as she lay whimpering on the table.

Well shit, what was he supposed to do with a captive audience?

---

Virgil didn't know what he'd been thinking, letting Remus go after all was said and done. Remus had been fun and so down for all of his sickest fantasies, supplying quite a few of his own. He'd stolen Remus’ watch and put it on the woman's body before shooting both timepieces on her wrist. The ticking had probably driven him to let Remus go. That had to explain it

He dumped the woman as far as he possibly could and hoped beyond reason that Remus wouldn't recognize her in the news and realized what he'd done. For a week he lived in fear of the cops showing up at work or worse his house, armed with search warrants and one hell of a witness. For a week, nothing happened.

It turned out he'd worried for nothing. Just when Virgil began to itch again to get rid of another glowing being, despite the police pressure pushing him to lay low, Remus came back in during his shift.

"Hello, my little purrrfect kitten!" Remus beamed as he walked into the shop.

Virgil froze and slowly turned back to face him, "you- you came back?"

"Mhm. Never got your number but I wanted to see you again, Virgie. Figured we could have some more fun this time," Remus smirked as he leaned casually against the counter, "one usual with the special sauce please!"

"Special sauce?" Virgil asked, still amazed Remus had even come back to the cafe.

"You know," Remus leaned in close and whispered, "the stuff that knocks me out so you can take me home and we can get it on freakier than my last BDSM club"

"Wow, you- you liked it that much?" Virgil let out a low whistle. He studied Remus again, stricken by the fact he didn't glow so much this time. Even though Virgil wanted to take care of another glowing bastard, he was so much more interested in this willing abductee.

"Yeah, I did! That shit's hot as fuck!" Remus beamed. Virgil checked the time on his terminal display and realized it was nearly the time his least favorite police patrons would be making their morning run.

"Look, uh… why don't we save the tranqs for my place?" Virgil smirked as he started to prepare Remus’ strange order, "I'm amazed this drink doesn't put you in a coma already."

Remus giggled, "sometimes it takes a little something extra to get the heart pumping, yeah?"

"Hm. Well, I get off in two hours-"

"I'll be sitting right here in the corner then. I wanna get to know you, Virgie."

"A horrible mistake for you, really," Virgil laughed, heart fluttering far too much.

"Plus I think I left my watch at your place…"

"I haven't seen it this week. We can look though," Virgil lied smoothly, knowing very well the police had the timepiece in evidence.

Remus kept flirting as Virgil cleaned the store and served the early morning crowd, true to his word about waiting to leave with Virgil. They walked out to his car and Remus held out his arm expectantly when they sat down.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"You're off the clock, let's get this party started. Surely you have the special stuff in here- you injected me last time."

Virgil flushed, "um.. really? You don't want to wait to know where we're going first?"

"How am I supposed to pretend I'm getting kidnapped if you don't knock me out? At least tie my hands?" Remus bat his eyes at Virgil who rolled his eyes and leaned over to grab a scarf out of the glove box.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah but you like it, kitten."

---

Logan stared at the evidence bored, absolutely baffled. In 5 months there had been 18 victims, a consistent signature, and every promise that someone would turn up with a connection to this perp. Or someone should know where these folks had been headed when they fell into the unsub's trap.

And then after Lydia with the two watches- nothing. No bodies were found for weeks. No whisperings of the media-named Black Widower who aggressively mutilated his male victims almost beyond recognition after raping them and humiliated the women after strangling them with silk scarves.

"I just don’t understand. Guys like this don’t go dormant! It's against every drive they have. What are we missing, Patton?"

Patton looked up from his third cup of coffee, "I don't know, Lo. What about the two-unsub theory? Maybe they met up and are keeping each other occupied?"

Logan rolled his eyes, "oh sure. Two serial killers, one who's gay and one who hates women meet and start playing house. Real cute."

"It could happen…" Patton replied defensively, already reaching for a second donut as his partner glared disapprovingly.

"No. I think it's the same unsub. The watches are always shot while the victim wears them. It's consistent. It's a single, unique signature that the media still hasn't published. If it's two different killers, they knew about each other and were purposefully copying each other long before they went dormant."

"Well, I'm not going to complain that we aren't finding more victims. I'd rather people not be mysteriously killed and maimed by the Black Widower...s," Patton lifted his chin defiantly. He stood and walked over to the evidence board, studying the geographic profile again, the map showing a confusing cluster of dumpsites, victim's homes, and last sightings, and puzzled over the strangeness of the case.

"If this case goes cold, we may never find the unsub. He lives his life, free to decide to start again while all of his victims lay rotting in the ground. Their families don't deserve to live with that fear," Logan sighed heavily in near defeat, "of course I don’t want more victims. I want this man caught. Why did he suddenly stop?"

---

For a month, Remus had come in once or twice a week, asking Virgil for the secret sauce and flirting with him until the end of his shift. The randomness of his timing and anticipation of his visits made it impossible for Virgil to hunt. He didn't quite mind because seeing Remus was always better than the thrill of the kill.

Virgil finally relented and watched with quiet admiration as Remus celebrated over getting his number, and their relationship only moved faster after that. Pretty soon Remus was able to convince him to go on an actual date after work, grabbing breakfast at a nearby diner and hitting up his apartment afterward. Virgil had rarely spent so long away from his own home, but being out with Remus made him feel almost normal.

Media slowly stopped covering the Black Widower and Virgil smiled to himself just imagining how frustrated the police must be that they couldn't find him.

Virgil was happy, laying next to his boyfriend who loved him despite almost every eccentricity. He almost believed nothing could go wrong with Remus there.

"Uh, kit kat? I have a bit of a confession to make," Virgil winced, cursing himself for being so naive to believe that foolish sentiment.

"What’s up, dukey?" Virgil rolled to his side to face his boyfriend, "you can tell me anything."

"I don't- promise you won't get mad or like.. react badly?" Remus asked quietly, alarming Virgil even more.

He gently laid a hand on Remus’ neck and rubbed that roughened cheek with his thumb, "what's going on, Rem? You're scaring me."

Remus visibly gulped and whispered, "I know what happened to my watch. Virgil, I've always known.."

Virgil pulled back slowly. So this is what it actually felt like to be caught. His heart hammered in his throat, making a verbal reply impossible. He strained to not start crushing Remus’ throat and his own heart in his panic. This was love and this was a threat and god the way Remus looked at him right now only complicated everything else so much more.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't wriggling away from Virgil’s touch. Remus stared death in the eye unflinchingly.

He'd always figured his boyfriend must be brave or stupid, but Virgil hadn't counted on both.

"I know… what you are… and I still fell in love with you, Virgil. If you're gonna… could you at least drug me first and let me kiss you with my last breath?"

Very quickly several pieces fell into place as Virgil stared at the man who loved him despite every flaw and couldn't even beg for his own safety or life.

Remus knew what happened the night they met.

Remus had made the connections to the other murders and the subsequent drought of victims.

Remus could have turned him in- directly to the officers at the shop a half dozen times and a hundred other times when they weren’t spending time together.

Remus loved him.

Remus loved him and was scared of this confrontation.

Remus was not scared of dying.

Killing his boyfriend would be the exact link the cops would need to capture him.

Not killing his boyfriend for knowing his secret would be the largest risk imaginable.

Virgil couldn’t live without Remus

His hand was slowly choking Remus out despite his reluctance to take action.

Virgil gasped and pushed Remus away roughly, darting out of the bed and down the hall. He didn't stop until he heard Remus calling out for him.

Shit.

"Virgil!" his voice came out hoarse and painfully weak sounding. Virgil knew he should run.

But Remus was calling for him. And this was his fault.

"Virgil?" it was a question, asked in a voice that couldn't get enough air to support itself. He could leave and Remus would probably die a very painful death, all alone, with his fingers and palm emblazoned in the bruising that would provide the cause of death.

Remus loved him. He couldn't let this be the end.

Virgil flew back into the bedroom, grabbed the landline, and made the call.

"Remus, I am so sorry. Just keep breathing, baby. I am so so sorry!" Virgil apologized profusely, waiting for the emergency operator to pick up.

---

Hospital staff had to pry Virgil from Remus’ side as they moved him quickly into the O.R. Virgil paced and wondered how exactly to explain Remus’s injuries without getting arrested to distract himself from the fear that Remus would die in surgery.

He should have never let himself get so close to someone so smart and funny and perfect and… glowing. Virgil sat and waited for the doctor's verdict, pulling his hood over his eyes to block out the throngs of injured, sick, frantically glowing people around him.

Ages passed until Virgil heard his name and looked up suddenly for the source. A doctor and a police officer stood before him and all of the adrenaline in his body screamed that he needed to run.

"Uh.. how is he, doc?" Virgil asked, fighting himself to not scream or make a scene.

"Remus Crowne is currently in recovery and you may visit him. Due to the nature of his injuries, we have contacted the police to speak with him first," the doctor intoned, voice dripping with suspicion.

The officer took the pause to speak up, "would you like to make a statement, Mr. Kier?"

"I just want to see him," Virgil replied in a raspy voice, shaking his head in denial as he stood.

"Very well. This way, sir," the doctor led Virgil and the officer back towards the recovery rooms. When they arrived, Virgil nearly choked seeing Remus talking with the same two officers who came into his shop each morning. The shorter one knelt beside the bed to hold Remus’ hand. He spoke softly and asked all the questions while his partner stood tall and took notes, looking incredulously at the injured man. Virgil instinctively wanted to barge in and protect Remus from these pigs but the third held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Before long the two officers left the room, eyeing Virgil disdainfully. He waited for the words that would send his world crashing around him even more than it already had.

"You- you can go in now, hon," Virgil's head tilted in confusion as the third officer let him go, "just be more careful in the future."

"I- what? No charges?" Virgil barely whispered, glancing towards the bed where Remus laid watching the tv.

"Believe me, if it had been me, I don’t care how consensual- I would have pressed charges for sending me to the E.R. have a good day, sir. Come along, Patton." The stricter-looking cop turned, gesturing to the kinder one and all three left quickly. Virgil beamed and ran to Remus’ side.

"You're welcome, kitten," Remus coughed and reached for Virgil’s hand.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't want to, Rem-"

"Shhhh. I told them it was a sex fantasy gone a bit too far. If I'd known you liked strangling dudes too-"

"Now you shush!" Virgil leaned in close, "you get better fast now, okay?"

"I always wanted to date a serial killer.. promise you won't leave me over this?" Remus grinned weakly up at Virgil, "I could help you, ya know."

"Shhhh this is just the pain meds talking. You don’t know a serial killer," Virgil laughed as tears of relief streamed down his cheeks. He gave Remus a dramatic stage wink and held his hand securely.

"Aww, you're right. I'm just stuck with a pretty boy who doesn't know his own strength," Remus grinned and watched Virgil rather than the tv until a nurse came to shoo his boyfriend away for the night.

Remus couldn't wait for their first hunt together.

[ladyartemesia]

OREOs... and Electroshock Couples Therapy

You and infuriating precinct playboy Jeon Jungkook go undercover to lure out a killer targeting engaged couples. Literally nothing goes according to plan...

Genre: Fluff/Comedy/Suspense

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Trope: Enemies/Rivals to Lovers ~ Fake Dating

AU Type: Loosely Brooklyn 99 (with a hint of Smallville) Police Detectives AU

Word Count: 3315

Rating/Warnings: (PG-15) kidnapping with threat of harm (not graphic) ~ mature themes and innuendo ~ light/implied smut

“Your delusions have run away with you again.”

“My delusions? Now I know it was you. You’re even more insufferably pretentious when you’re trying to hide something.”

Jungkook grinned.

“Brilliant theory, Detective. Shame there’s no way to prove it.”

“You could confess,” you fumed tightly.

His grin became positively gleeful. You were this close to tasing him.

“Do you genuinely expect me to confess that I ate your last Oreo?”

“It was a violation of human decency.”

“Yes, and when we find the culprit, I’ll be sure to tar and feather him.”

“You’re not taking this seriously, Jeon.”

“Now, whatever gave you that idea?” Jungkook asked as he folded an arrest report into a paper airplane.

You were saved from responding when Captain Kim barked both your names across the precinct.

“Detectives _______ and Jeon. My office. Now.”

Namjoon sighed as he watched the two of you bicker all the way to the door.

It’s like having extra children. 

“We’ve got a case. Commissioner marked it top priority and you two are taking lead as of right now.”

Your forehead wrinkled in confusion and Jungkook raised a single curious brow.

“But Jimin is my –”

“Why not Hoseok?”

Namjoon raised a hand to silence you both. You weren’t teaming with your regular partners. Questions were to be expected.

“Jimin’s staying on that trafficking case while you work with Jeon. We need to draw out a perp targeting engaged couples. Thus far, all of his victims have been a male and a female, mid-to-late twenties. You two fit the profile, so...” he grinned, “congratulations on your engagement.”

 🕵🏻‍♀️👰🏻🤵🏻🕵🏻‍♂️ 

As special cases went, this one was … truly bizarre.

The victims always disappeared a few weeks before their wedding. Some couples were abducted, then later returned to their homes or vehicles with no memory of the previous 48 hours.

Others turned up dead in alleyways.

Ligature marks and burns on the bodies indicated the use of restraints and electrocution. After some digging, you discovered that all five couples visited the same jeweler and the same bakery in the process of planning their wedding.

Jungkook nibbled the tip of his pen, absently tugging his curls as he scanned the case files.

It wasn’t sexy.

It wasn’t. 

“Looks like this is the best lead we have. Even though some of them ended up choosing other bakeries and jewelers – they all came through those shops.” He tossed the pen across his desk and stretched back in his chair – causing his shirt to strain over his chest. 

You gulped.

Is it, like, hot in here? -your eyes lingered momentarily on his biceps- Why is maintenance messing with the thermostat right now? People are trying to work-

“Hello? Earth to Detective Space Cadet.” Jungkook waved a tattooed hand in your face. “Are we going with my idea?”

He had an idea? I must have missed it during that brief bout of thirstiness hot flash. 

“I – uh – was analyzing some of the victim profiles …-in my head-” you paused to loosen your collar – which was suddenly strangling you, “-so could you just run it by me once more?” 

Detective Jeon raised a single eyebrow.

“Daydreaming about me again?”

Yes.

“No. I was actually daydreaming about my last Oreo,” you leaned forward with an eyebrow raise of your own. “Really, it meant so much more to me than you do.” 

He laughed and you felt yourself smiling (against your better judgement). 

“Always so cold, Detective. I think you may have hurt my feelings.”

“Impossible,” you sighed airily, “we both know you don’t have feelings.”

“Says who?”

“Gina from Forensics.”

“Fine. Who else?”

“Wendy from Missing Persons.”

“Doesn’t count. I was very drunk.”

“Jimin’s sister.”

Jungkook winced. 

“Is he still sore about that?”

“I wouldn’t accept food or beverages from him any time in the next decade.” 

“That’s fair.”

It was your turn to laugh and Detective Jeon had the decency to blush. He recovered quickly, however.

“As I recall, there was a lot of feeling between those lovely ladies and myself.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Spare me Jeon. If I want to learn about baboon mating habits, I’ll watch Animal Planet.”

Jungkook hissed in feigned pain and clasped his hand over his heart.

“Ouch. Direct hit.”

“I am the top marksmen in the precinct.”

“Hey” he sat up – abruptly serious, “We’re tied.”

“For now.”

“Until I beat you.”

“Until you are beaten by me.”

He bit his lip and grinned – crinkling his nose in a way that was unfairly adorable. 

“Kinky.”

“Oh-KAY,” you swiveled away in your wheelie chair and threw a paper clip at him (which he caught handily). “You were telling me about your plan?”

“Yes. While you were daydreaming about me-” (you snorted at that, but he pretended not to hear) “-I suggested we couple up and head to those shops. Maybe our perp will take the bait.”

You shrugged, “Sounds good.”

Gathering your coat and bag, you tossed a quick glance over your shoulder - already halfway out the door. 

“I’ll swing by my locker and change into a dress or something. Meet me by the front gate in 10 minutes.”  

Jungkook followed after you - catching up as you entered the elevator.

“I noticed you never denied being kinky.”

His grin was seven different types of sinful and if you were even the tiniest bit weaker, you would have cuffed him to the lift rail and addressed his statement explicitly.

You, however, were no Gina from Forensics.

Instead, your features twisted into a knowing smirk as you steered yet another moment between yourself and the delicious infuriating Jeon Jungkook into safe and familiar territory.  

“Impressive,” you drawled cheekily as the doors began to close, “I can see why they made you a detective.” 

 🕵🏻‍♀️👰🏻🤵🏻🕵🏻‍♂️

The bakery was a famous family-owned establishment near the center of town. Its current owner, Kim Seokjin, had been crowned the city’s most eligible bachelor for 5 years running. 

The man in question was, at the moment, personally campaigning for your vote.

“Now open wide,” he murmured as he slipped a sumptuous square of Seokjin’s Signature Red Velvet ™ between your parted lips. 

Your eyes rolled back into your head. “Oh, that’s delicious,” you moaned.

Seokjin chuckled. “Thank you. I always hope customers can taste my passion in every bite.” The seemingly innocuous words sounded positively lewd dripping from his luscious mouth. You briefly forgot how to exhale.

The baker leaned in a bit closer and brought up his thumb to wipe away non-existent crumbs from your lips, “I find it really helps me connect with them,” he whispered intimately.

You were literal seconds from licking icing directly off Seokjin’s finger when-

“Okay. That’s enough of that.” 

There was a firm tug on your elbow and you collided hard with Jungkook’s chest. It took a moment to regain your bearings (you were still slightly dazed from looking directly into Seokjin’s eyes), but suddenly Jungkook and Seokjin were staring each other down over a plate of cupcakes and all of Jungkook’s limbs were entangled with your own. 

His legs rested on either side of your hips, his left hand latched around your back and torso - pinning you to him from chest to knee caps, and his right hand -

A surprised squeak slipped past your lips as he fully palmed your backside.

Mouth agape, your gaze shot up to meet his, but Jungkook was still glaring stoically at Kim Seokjin. He didn’t even flinch when you pinched him under the arm. 

Frankly, you had not envisioned a scenario like this when you reported for duty this morning. Your mind struggled to process a reality where you were plastered all over Jeon Jungkook - surrounded on all sides by pastries and angry beautiful men - and oh my gosh that hand was still on your-

“Find what you were looking for, babe?” his familiar voice snapped with an extra edge of possessiveness that you absolutely - definitely - for sure - totally hated and did not make you shiver involuntarily.

Lies, lies, lies...

Seokjin’s eyes narrowed. A cool smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“I think the lady was very satisfied with what I had to offer.”

Jungkook’s jaw twitched. 

Oh boy…

You learned long ago to dread that jaw twitch. 

It was the jaw twitch of I-will-win-this-even-if-I-have-to-break-every-bone-in-my-body-and-burn-down-a-building-in-the-process.

Visions of flying muffins and bloodshed danced behind your eyes. 

Not to mention Jungkook would likely wreck Seokjin’s face and that would be a travesty.

Time for some drastic measures.

Thinking quickly, you slid your hands up over his chest to bury your fingers in his hair and yanked his face close to yours.

“Baby,” you purred, letting your lips brush ever so slightly over his, “I wanna go look at rings now.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened immediately. Tension thrummed in the space between you. Your body suddenly seemed to poised to ignite as you pleaded prettily with him. 

“Won’t you take me, love?” 

The was a sharp flare of something in his gaze and the next thing you knew Jungkook was sweeping you toward the exit - right hand still firmly planted on your-

“I look forward to seeing you again soon,” Seokjin called out - in a tone more suited to a bedroom than a bakery. 

Jungkook froze. His jaw twitched again, but you were out of patience. 

“Come along now, Poodle,” you growled before dragging him out the door. 

 🕵🏻‍♀️👰🏻🤵🏻🕵🏻‍♂️ 

“What was that?!” you hissed after walking a suitable distance from the bakery. 

“I was about to ask you the same question. I can’t believe you called me Poodle!”

“You're lucky that’s all I did. Between the butt grabbing and the chest beating, I was tempted to bash both your heads in with the complimentary tea tray.”

He snorted. 

“I was just maintaining my cover - unlike you.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You’re my fiancé, Muffin. Drooling all over Kim Seokjin’s goodies while he touches your mouth doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’m in a committed relationship’.”

Your jaw dropped and you sputtered out a noise that was equal parts guilt and exasperation.

“I was probing for information!”

“And he was about to probe right back,” Jungkook muttered.

“What was that?” you snapped. 

“I said the jeweler is on the corner of 5th and Womack.”

 🕵🏻‍♀️👰🏻🤵🏻🕵🏻‍♂️ 

The tension between you and your ‘fiancé’ was palpable by the time you finally entered the jewelry store. 

“What kind of ring were you looking for, Precious?” Jungkook gushed with nauseating sweetness. 

“The biggest and most expensive we can find, Cupcake!” you cooed through clenched teeth. 

For several minutes you wandered aimlessly through the store playing the role of a hard to please couple (employing increasingly more obnoxious pet names with each exchange). 

The clerk, a tight featured man with tiny glasses, kept shooting disapproving looks and sniffing loudly whenever you asked to see anything. After a few minutes of irritable huffing, Jungkook lost patience. 

“I’m surprised this place is still in business, Cuddles.”

You snorted, equally put off by the jeweler’s brisk demeanor. 

“I think we’re done here, Kookie Bear. I parked the car in the garage by Maxwell Market. If we get back in ten minutes, we won’t be charged for another hour.”

The last thing you remembered before completely blacking out was a sharp pain in your neck.

Then you opened your eyes to very real trouble.

 🕵🏻‍♀️👰🏻🤵🏻🕵🏻‍♂️ 

It felt like there was a knife in your forehead - probably a side effect of whatever drug was used to knock you out. 

As your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting, you became aware of several things at once. 

You and Jungkook were strapped to chairs facing one another in (what appeared to be) someone’s basement. Electrical stimulators simmered menacingly over various contact points on both your bodies.

...ligature marks and burns on the bodies indicated the use of restraints and electrocution…

Your gaze traveled cautiously over your partner. There was a cut near his temple - probably caused when he fell after being drugged - other than that he looked unharmed, but his eyes were still closed and his breathing seemed labored. 

“Jungkook,” you whimpered. Your voice sounded cracked and raw. 

How long were we out? 

After a moment his eyes opened and his panicked gaze darted frantically before landing on you. 

It suddenly occurred to you that his face might be the last thing you ever saw. The thought prompted a strange sort of comfort as well as a powerful surge of emotion. 

A single tear slid slowly down your cheek. 

Your head wasn’t entirely clear yet, but you could vaguely hear the jeweler rambling on about how he was going to save you both from the pain he suffered.

“What ...pain?” Jungkook’s voice sounded as rough as yours. He was still fighting off the effects of sedation. 

“The pain of lies,” your captor hissed. “My wife’s lies destroyed me. I lost everything. I never would have married her if I’d known-”

His unhinged monologue continued in that manner for several uncomfortable minutes, but he did finally get around to mentioning why you were chained up in his cellar.

“-to find the truth. If you want to save each other, you must tell the truth.”

Your eyes fell to your fingers, already knowing what you’d find there.

“Lie detectors?” Jungkook whispered incredulously.

“To know for sure if you truly care. Your lies hurt the one you love. Down here, your lies will kill her.”

“What are you saying?” Jungkook snarled. His voice dripped with real menace.

“I’m saying, if you lie, this will happen.” He pushed a button on the small remote in his hand and excruciating pain suddenly tore through your entire body. 

You screamed. 

“Stop!” Jungkook shouted. His body jerked against the chains and the chair creaked precariously beneath him. “I will kill you, you bastard!”

“No! You’ll thank me for sparing you the pain of heartbreak.”

“We aren’t engaged!” you gasped, still shaking from the aftershock. “This was a ruse - to - to draw you out. We can’t pass it-”

But the jeweler ignored you and cranked up the voltage on his machine.

“First question to the groom. Are you hiding anything from her?”

Jungkook swore and yanked against his chains again. 

“Answer the question or I’ll do it,” the jeweler warned. “Your silence can deceive as well.”

You whimpered in terror and Jungkook howled with rage.

“Yes. I am,” he bit out tightly. 

The voltage cranked again and another tear drifted quietly down the side of your face.

“What are you hiding?”

Jungkook’s eyes dropped in shame, but he didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t.

“I do eat your last Oreo. Every time. The first one was an accident. I thought they were Jimin’s... I don’t even like Oreos that much... But I make sure I always get to yours.”

You couldn’t stop a pathetic cough of laughter. “You’re confessing to the Oreos? ...Really?” Your body shook as more silent tears tracked down your face. “Jeon Jungkook you’re so strange,” you whispered softly - almost tenderly.

The jeweler’s eyes narrowed.

“There has to be more than that!” He cranked the voltage again. “Tell her what you’re really hiding!” 

 Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“She comes to see me when the Oreos disappear. I work mostly homicide and she’s narcotics. We were paired together on a task force a couple months ago and since then I...”

His eyes squeezed shut as he fought for the right words. When they opened again, he was speaking only to you. 

“Our paths don’t often cross, but when you find me to yell about the Oreos... it’s the best part of my day.”

His gaze dropped as he continued, “There hasn’t been anyone else since the moment we met…” He heard your quiet gasp and his mouth tilted into a small tender smile.

“There’s only you,” he whispered.  

The harsh scrape of a lever being pulled caused you both to jump. Jungkook grunted in pain. He passed the test, but the charge was live on his body now.

It was your turn to face the truth.

“Tell me,” the psychotic jeweler snapped - clearly disappointed that no one had died yet, “do you love this man?”

Your eyes widened and Jungkook’s head shot up. Your gazes locked significantly and you felt your heart wrench.

“It’s ok,” Jungkook whispered. “Just tell the truth.”

His beautiful face was filled with trust and understanding. 

You knew what he expected your answer to be.

You knew what you’d say if his life wasn’t on the line.

But only the truth would keep him safe. 

“Yes,” -your eyes fluttered shut - it was too much to face him when everything you buried deep down was now laid bare between you- “I do.”

You saw him flinch - as if he expected the pain to come.

But it never did. 

For a moment there was only excruciating silence... then the barest whisper of your name passing breathlessly over his lips. 

“NYPD! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!”

You had never been so happy to hear Sergeant Min’s voice in your entire life.

But he’d come too late to spare either of you a confrontation with the truth.

 🕵🏻‍♀️👰🏻🤵🏻🕵🏻‍♂️ 

The next several hours passed in a blur. You were separated from Jungkook almost immediately. You caught one final glimpse of him as you were both loaded into ambulances.

His gaze stayed fixed on you as the doors closed. 

You vaguely recall giving statements and Namjoon yelling - a lot - like he always does when he’s worried. 

He hugged you so tightly. 

At some point you started to cry.

There was a constant stream of doctors and psychologists...

Then they sent you home. 

Mandatory Crisis Leave. 

Loud banging startled you off the couch and onto the floor of your apartment. It was only the second day of leave, but someone was already interrupting.

In hindsight, you should have known exactly who it was.

“Jungkook ... ”

He looked so wonderful it almost hurt. You savagely beat back the urge to slam the door in his face and bury yourself underneath a pile of blankets.

“I’m... really tired of eating those Oreos.” 

His jaw worked reflexively. After a moment, his eyes crept up to meet yours.

You nodded. 

It was literally all you were capable of doing.

“I want to talk to you every day,” he said with a little more confidence.

Tears began to prick the back of your eyes. You nodded again and he stepped slightly closer.

“I want to hold you. And not just when we’re undercover.”

You laughed. Tears began to fall in earnest.

Jungkook’s hand rose cautiously toward your face and you leaned forward ever so slightly, allowing his thumb to soothe away the wetness on your cheek.

“I am in love with you... and- and I have no idea what I’m doing,” he lowered his forehead to rest gently against yours, "but from now on... I want to do whatever it is with you.”

Pure burning joy bubbled up from your chest as you surged forward - finally pressing your lips to his.

There was laughter and more crying as you stumbled together into your apartment, shutting the door on the outside world to lose yourself in each other.  

As you lay in his arms several hours later with the echoes of his touch still humming over your body and your mouth still swollen from his kiss, you realized that what you’d been running from all those months was nothing more than your own fears.

Here - next to him - was where you were meant to be all along.

Ask My Muse: Have a question for the characters in this work? Send it to my ask box and hear their side of the story.

Endnote: This is an extensive rework of a piece I originally wrote for another fandom (if you see it elsewhere - but with Reylo - it’s me - I promise). It is based heavily on the plot of one of my favorite episodes of Smallvile (I was a huge Smallville fangirl back in the day). The dynamics are inspired by one of the greatest shows of all time - Brooklyn 99. I haven’t written much for the BTS fandom, but I would really love to hear what you think!  (Let me know what you thought pretty please?) Much like Jimin I survive primarily on takeout and praise.

[starrybethany]

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 2

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Word count: 3.5K

I shut the front door quietly behind me. I step out of my heels, sighing in relief as my feet can finally breathe. My eyes land on the twelve-year-old on the couch and I can’t help but grin despite his cold behavior towards me lately.

I know he’s an adolescent so he’s going to go through mood swings and say hurtful things-but that doesn’t make it hurt less. It also doesn’t make me love him less. I walk up behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders slowly and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Mom,” he rips the headphones off of his ears, setting the controller and the headphones down on the coffee table. “You’re home.”

“Are you playing Call of Duty with the boys?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, eyes still avoiding my own. I know he’s ashamed of how he treated me this morning before leaving for school, but he won’t admit it. I raised him to admit it when he’s made a mistake, but he’s a boy, and they naturally refuse to do so. He’s still young, too, so he feels like he’s somehow always right.

“What do you want for dinner?” I make my way towards the small kitchen, opening the fridge to look inside.

“Didn’t you get food with Winston?” Holden questions, giving me a confused look.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “But I’m assuming you didn’t eat.”

“No.”

I pull out the supplies to make a grilled cheese, looking up at him expectantly. “Grilled cheese, then?”

“Yeah.”

The fading sun catches the blonde locks in his hair as he looks over at me from time to time, trying to focus on his game but a thought obviously occupying him.

“Mom, is um, is Winston going to be moving in with us?” He questions.

“What?” I laugh. “No, honey, we’ve only been dating a few months. Why would you think that?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.  You guys hang out a lot.”

“Well, I hope you know that I would have a conversation with you before doing anything that serious,” I reassure him, bringing over a Coke and the plate with chips and a grilled cheese.

“Thanks, mom,” he cracks a smile at me. A sign that it’s all better now.

“So, tell me about school today. How was art? Did you finally compliment Cierra’s painting?” I tease.

“Mom,” his voice cracks with the warning.

“I’m just teasing,” I giggle. “But seriously, Holden, girls love compliments.”

“I know,” he grumbles, returning to his game.

~

“How is Holden?” My sister asks.

I balance the phone between my shoulder and my ear, glancing up the stairs to make sure his door is closed so that he doesn’t hear the conversation. I lower my voice just in case. “I’m still worried about him.  He doesn’t have a lot of friends, he doesn’t hang out with the friends that he does have, he doesn’t want to join any sports or extracurricular activities- his grades aren’t the best. I’ve asked him so many times if he wants to go to therapy and he says no every time.”

“Well, maybe it’s time for you and Winston to get serious. That boy needs a father figure.”

I feel the annoyance rise in my blood and I roll my eyes, grateful that she can’t see me and scold me about the action. “I don’t want to push Holden to accept Winston. Holden will make his own decision of how to perceive him. Look, I have to go, I’m working late tomorrow.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I quickly hang up, turning off the downstairs lights and making my way upstairs. I peak under my son’s door, seeing a soft light emerging, before doing my nighttime routine and laying down in bed. I scroll through my social media for a while- a habit I’ve been trying to break since Holden was born- seeing that all of my friends who are Flyer fans are getting excited for the game against the Blackhawks tomorrow.

Colorado was not a hockey place. They were all about their Denver Broncos and lived and breathed football. Holden and I moved to Philadelphia with my ex-boyfriend when he was a toddler, and we broke up when he started kindergarten, but we’ve stayed in Philadelphia ever since.

Philadelphia, however, is a hockey place. I understand why- Gritty is the embodiment of the city- but it was odd to be immersed back into the hockey life. Everyone here worships Claude Giroux and flashes of orange are worn everywhere we go.

I asked Holden when he was younger if he wanted to play hockey, since a lot of his friends do, but he quickly rejected the idea- something I was guiltily relieved about. He doesn’t know that his dad is a hockey player, in fact, he’s surprisingly never asked about his dad.

I thought he would want to learn more as he grew older and saw all of the kids at school with both of their parents, but he’s never said a thing to me.

I don’t know if he’s said something to someone else, though.

I set my phone down on the nightstand, exhausted from the long workday and the worry that constantly fills my body about my son. I know I need to do something to encourage him to increase his grades, make some friends, join some clubs- hell, even if it’s to spend more time with me, I wouldn’t mind that.

But right now, I just feel like a shitty mother.

~

I sigh, setting down the papers on my desk and rubbing my eyes. I hate ordering inventory, but someone needs to do it and since the owner of this coffee shop is never here, it lays on my shoulders.

I stand up, making my way to the front of the shop. “Do you guys know if Lia needs any more shirts?”

“I think she does,” Rachel’s voice falls on deaf ears as I notice the person waiting to order. The blood rushes to my head and my limbs run cold. All I can focus on is him. He’s standing in the coffee shop that I manage, a familiar, yet older Alex DeBrincat by his side, just like old times.

My eyes meet Alex’s first. He smiles at me, then I watch as it slowly transfers into a look of confusion.

“Do I- do I know you?”  He asks carefully.

“Y/N,” another voice breathes out. I turn my head, eyes meeting Adam’s. His face is frozen in disbelief, like he can’t believe it’s actually me.

But it’s me. And I’m standing in front of my child’s father, seeing him for the first time in about thirteen years. I hadn’t spoken to him since the day I left, Holden still a little bean in my stomach.

Staying true to my word, I did it on my own- with the help from some ex-boyfriends. But still, I was the one hugging him when he got vaccines at six months old, I was the one rubbing his back when he had the stomach flu at six years old, I’m the one kissing him on the cheek after parent-teacher conferences.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, it’s been a while!” Alex chuckles, snapping my attention back to him. “I thought you were in Colorado, what are you doing in Philly?”

I force a smile. “Needed a change in scenery.”

It’s not a complete lie.

“How have you been? Is there a husband, any kids?”

Rachel, God bless Rachel, calls out Alex’s name and hands him his coffee before I can respond.

“How are you doing?” I inquire, keeping my eyes on the shorter man.

“Oh, I’m good, Lyndsey and I just had our second, our first boy,” he smiles proudly. He always used to talk about how much he wanted a family with her.

“Congratulations,” I smile.

“Thanks. Boqy here,” he slaps Adam’s chest, bringing him into the conversation. I reluctantly drag my eyes over to him, seeing that he’s already watching me. “Hasn’t changed a bit since you left.”

I nod, biting back the snarky remark that wants to escape. He’s what, thirty now? And he hasn’t changed a bit?

“Well, I have to get back to work,” I respond, wanting nothing more than to escape this conversation. I wouldn’t mind chatting with Alex for a whil- I’m sure he’d love Holden, but I don’t want Adam to know anything about my son.

I can’t help but feel guilty at that.

“Hey, let’s exchange numbers and hang out soon. We’re playing the Flyers and Penguins for the next couple of days, so we’ll be around for a while,” Alex offers.

I nod, pulling out my phone to exchange numbers with him. Somehow Adam thinks it’s his right to add his number into my phone, too.

“Well, it was great seeing you, Y/N,” Alex smiles before leaving, holding the door open for his companion. Adam spares me one last glance before leaving.

I cry in my office.

~

I can feel his eyes sliding between me and his plate. He pushes the corn with his fork, causing a scrapping noise to echo throughout the small room. He’s used to dinner being filled with questions about his day- what did he learn in science? Did he play dodgeball in gym class? But I’m not in the mood tonight.

The last thing that I wanted to do was make dinner and sit down and eat it instead of ordering pizza and crawling into bed, but I know I need to put on a brave face for Holden. He doesn’t need to know that anything’s wrong.

He coughs awkwardly. “I don’t like corn.”

I can’t hold back the rolling of my eyes. He looks shocked at that, like he’s not expecting it, but I’m not in the mood for his snarky attitude tonight.

“Then don’t eat it.”

He studies me before I can’t handle it anymore, shoving my chair back. I quickly throw the rest of my food away and throw my dishes into the sink before practically sprinting upstairs, locking my bedroom door behind me like a teenage girl.

I’m wiping the tears in my eyes furiously, my chest heaving with every breathe. I’m hoping that if I stop the tears from coming now, it’ll seem like they’ve never come at all.

And if they never fall, I’ve never cried over Adam Boqvist.

My phone buzzes angrily in my back pocket and I pull it out, practically groaning when I read Winston’s name. It shouldn’t be like that when I see that it’s my boyfriend calling, I know that, but really? Right now?

“Hello?”

“Hey, how are you?” Winston coos through the phone.

I furrow my eyebrows at the tone. “Uh, alright.”

“It’s just- Holden texted me and told me that you’re feeling kind of, um, off, tonight,” he struggles to explain.

I hold back my scoff. Sure, now Holden likes Winston.

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on, Y/N, how are we supposed to have a healthy relationship if you can’t talk to me?” He persists.

“I just don’t want to talk about it, Winston.”

“Fine. Be that way. But just so you know, if you can’t bother talking to me about this, then don’t bother talking to me ever again.”

I raise my eyebrows at that. “You’re going to break up with me because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong?”

“It’s the principle of it, Y/N! If you aren’t willing to share your emotions with me four months into this relationship, where are we going?” He rants.

I’m dumbfounded. I know I should be willing to tell him what’s wrong- he’s supposed to be my partner, my confidant, the one I tell everything to.

But to be honest, I don’t really care. I’ve never felt an immense attraction to him. Really, when he asked me out the only reason I said yes was because I like his appearance. But we’ve never clicked, we’ve never had that fire, that passion- like, like what Adam and I had.

“Exactly,” he scoffs, reminding me that I’m still on the phone with my boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend.

He hangs up the phone and I sigh, gently resting the device back on my bedside table. I get ready for bed before climbing back under my cozy covers, scrolling through social media one last time before I decide to sleep.

My notification tab lights up, so I click on it, seeing that I have a new follow request.

adamboqvistt Confirm Delete

I stare at that in disbelief. After more than a decade of knowing my Instagram handle, and the fact that I’m the mother of his child, now he decides he wants to follow me?

Now he wants to get and stay in contact, just because he happened to see me at my job?

He took one look at me and decided he should be involved now. I told him when I told him that I was pregnant, it’s all in or all out.  And he decided all out, so now he has to live with his decision.

I close the app in fury, setting my phone down and turning over in bed, tugging the blanket harder than I intend to. Hopefully tomorrow is better than today. Hopefully Adam forgets about me and our child, just like he’s done for the past thirteen years.

~

Holden is slipping down the stairs just as I set his plate of scrambled eggs down on the table, giving me a hesitant look, like he’s unsure of what kind of mood I’m in and why I took the time to make him breakfast instead of hurrying out the door like I usually am with a reluctant kiss and hug.

“I start later today, I’m on the closing shift tonight,” I half-explain, placing the bowl of cut-up strawberries in the middle of the table.

He nods, taking a seat across from me at the table. I clear my throat as we begin to eat and he looks up at me, blue eyes wide like he got caught doing something wrong.

“Winston and I broke up last night,” I state emotionlessly.

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Can I ask why?”

“I didn’t want to talk about my bad day and apparently that makes me emotionally unavailable,” I respond.

He pauses. “Well, do you want to talk about your bad day with me?”

This time it’s my turn to pause. I could do three things right now.  I could tell him that his father’s going to be in town for the next couple of days, giving him the opportunity to meet him if he really wanted to. Although he’s never expressed wanting to meet Adam, I’m sure there’s some kind of yearning in him to meet the man who gave him half of his genes.

Or I could lie. I hate lying to the kid- it’s not a value I want to raise him with. Plus, if he finds out that I lied, he would be pissed.

Finally, I could shut him out. I don’t want to do that, though. If I shut him out, when will he want to come talking to me? If I’m not willing to talk to him, it’s not fair to expect him to talk to me about things that bother him.

“I saw… an old friend, yesterday,” I say slowly, deciding to leave it at that. It’s vague but specific enough.

“My father?”

I practically choke at the words.

“It’s okay, mom,” he shrugs awkwardly. “I get it. That must’ve been hard for you.”

The deep blush on his cheeks shows me that he doesn’t want to continue this conversation much longer. I don’t know if it’s because of who it’s about, or because we’re talking about our feelings, but I don’t want to pressure him.

“Yeah. So, I’ll be home around eight o’clock tonight, I’ll pick up some McDonalds on the way home. Text me your order,” I inform him.

He nods, and that’s that.

~

I don’t know why a café is open until eight o’clock at night. Usually no one comes in past six o’clock, so the owner is paying someone to sit there for two hours on their phone. Around seven fifty-five, when I’m in the middle of turning off the lights to lock up and go home to see my son, the doorbell rings.

I curse in my head- what asshole comes in five minutes before closing time?

“Hello,” I plaster a fake smile onto my face, turning around to greet the customer. My feet stop moving.

His short curls peak out of the gray beanie, black jacket hanging loosely off of his body. His hands are shoved into his coat pockets and he stands at the door unsurely, deciding to take a confident step forward.

I compose myself, taking a step forward. “What can I get for you today?”

“Y/N-“”My recommendation is our house’s hot chocolate, it’s my favorite,” I give him a sugar sweet smile, relishing in the way that he winces.

“Look, I know that-“”Either order something or get out, Adam,” I break out of my customer service persona.

“If I order something will you talk to me?” He snaps.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Are you really in the position to be making demands here?”

He sighs. “Get me that- what was it, a hot chocolate?”

“What size?” I snarl.

“Small.”

I grab the cup, reluctantly beginning the process of making it as he begins to speak.

“I requested to follow you on Instagram.”

I don’t respond.

“Look, I know that I messed up, okay?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” I mumble.

“I realize that,” he continues like I never interrupted him. “And I regret it every day, letting you and him- or her, I don’t even know what you ended up having, go, just so easily. I spent thirteen years missing all of the birthdays and Christmases and hockey games and focusing on getting drunk and my own hockey world. But don’t you feel like it’s fate, meeting again after all of these years?”

“Your total is $4.32,” I retort, setting the cup down on the counter.

“Come on, just let me meet him. Or her, you haven’t told me what you ended up having yet,” he pleads, chuckling dryly at the end.

“That’s because you don’t deserve to know. $4.32 please, and cash transactions are closed at this time,” I stare pointedly at him.

He swipes his card silently.

“Thank you, come again,” I state as I hand him his receipt. His fingers brush my own. The softness of them sooth the rage in my body, something I curse at internally.

I, so badly, want to be mad at Adam. I want to scream at him for missing all of our son’s childhood and my whole pregnancy.

But the worst part is that I can’t really blame him. He was a young guy, barely surviving in a league that sucks the players dry of everything they can give.

He knew he couldn’t give everything to raise the child- he knew better than to promise that he could do that.

I know he probably beats himself up for letting this go on so long- as he should- but I know that he’s probably ashamed of what he’s done and how much he’s missed.

There was never a right time for him to reenter Holden’s life. When Holden was a toddler, Adam still barely knew himself, as a kid Adam was teaching the younger players, and well, now- now Holden wants nothing to do with him.

Adam’s fingers glide gently up my arm, eyes double-checking to make sure the action is alright. It is.

It slides down to my waist and the other hand lifts up slowly, softly brushing my jaw. His face moves closer and closer to mine before our lips meet.

It’s like they’ve never left each other. They start out slowly, then move faster, more passionately. I tighten my eyes, cherishing this moment. Who knows when it will come next? The hand on my jaw moves down to my other hip and he tugs me across the counter, moving so that he’s standing in between my open legs.

“This is so unhygienic,” I breathe out as he begins to kiss down my neck. He chuckles, the hot air making me grow more and more needy for him.

“Are there cameras in here?” He questions, looking around- looking out for me to keep my job.

“No,” I respond, pulling his lips back to mine. “But we have to go into the office. I don’t want anyone walking past to see.”

He nods, grabbing onto the back of my thighs to pick me up. The office door shuts behind us.

When I see the, now cold, hot chocolate still sitting on the counter the next morning, I can’t help but wince, regretting everything that happened the night prior.

I just can’t resist when it comes to Adam Boqvist.

[puckyeahobx]

in the middle of the party b*tch get off of me

a/n: here’s some jj for you guys....this is a personal favorite of mine and very much so inspired by the one tik tok he posted where he had handcuffs O.o

summary: y/n and jj go to college together and celebrate halloween at his frat house <3 sexiness ensues

warnings: nsfw duh 

It wasn’t that you thought JJ was dumb, but it was moreso that you thought JJ was focused on other things like fixing cars, finding the best weed in a fifty mile radius, and taking care of his friends. His criminal record also didn’t necessarily lend itself to an academic lifestyle either, now that you thought about it...but JJ had never ceased to amaze you as long as you had known him, so I guess you really should not have been shocked when he showed up on your doorstep with an acceptance letter to North Carolina State. He said it had nothing to do with you thinking of going there too, but you knew better. 

High school ending had really been freaking him out even if he had tried not to show it. His friends were the one thing that had kept him grounded all of these years and he wasn’t sure what would become of him once you all went your separate ways. Luckily, though, you ended up choosing NC State. They had the best program for your major out of everywhere you applied and had offered you a decent chunk of cash. It had nothing to do with JJ going there...obviously. 

Kie was at UNC Chapel Hill, Pope at Duke, and John B was on a gap year, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do, which left you and JJ to your own devices your freshman year. It was a big school and you both found groups of people you liked, JJ with his frat brothers (also a huge shock to you, but the guys in his frat were actually really cool and pretty pogue-like, he wouldn't be caught dead in a kook infested frat) and fellow social services majors, you with your roommates and friends from classes, but you two always ended up spending the most time with each other anyway. It didn’t take very long into your freshman year to realize that old habits really do die hard. Whether it was walking to class together, eating in the dining hall, studying in the library, you guys were always together. Sometimes your new friends joined you guys, but more often than not when you weren’t in your dorms you were alone together. This wasn’t an issue for you, of course. Just like the rest of the world, you had been into JJ since you first met him. And lately, through all the alone time and leaning on each other, it became clear that he might maybe feel the same way.

It was the small things like how his hand rested on your back when he walked up behind you or when his arm fell on your shoulders when you sat on your shitty dorm futon together or how anytime one of his friends flirted with you in front of you his jaw clenched and he suddenly was at a loss for his usual sarcastic banter. But you were getting ahead of yourself, right? You two were each other’s rocks at this time. It was probably all platonic like it had always been. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t push the limits of friendship and have a little fun from time to time, did it? No, no it didn’t. So when Halloween came creeping around the corner, you made sure you had your fun.

JJ’s frat was obviously throwing a party in celebration of the holiday, because if there’s one thing frat guys love it’s alcohol and almost-naked girls - the true nature of Halloween. It was a costume party but that was pretty much code for “Show as much skin as possible”, so you went for the classic angel look. A white bra, a white mini skirt you found at the back of your friend’s closet, and Party City wings. It was truly innovative. You tried to make it look like you actually tried by hot gluing some rhinestones on your bra and doing your hair and makeup all ethereal and sexy, but you knew that as soon as you stepped into that disgusting, sweaty frat house you would somehow go from an 11 to a solid 7 and that was just something you were going to have to be ok with. It was always dark anyway.

You didn’t arrive at the party until a little after ten because your friend went a little too hard at the pregame and had already vomited all over her devil lingerie, so you all had to deal with that mess before tucking her into bed and escaping out the door before things could get worse. But after many texts and snaps from JJ harassing you for keeping him waiting, you were finally there and your stomach was flipping with nerves. JJ refused to reveal what he was dressed up as, saying it was a surprise, and you just couldn’t wait to see him as someone else, hoping he’d see you as someone else tonight too. Someone he wanted to be with. 

The music was heard from the front lawn as you stepped out of the uber and up the steps, waving to the pledge from your Comp 101 class, thankful that JJ had somehow weaseled out of his pledge duties for the night. Once you stepped inside you and your friends immediately scoped out your surroundings. There was a party going on in the main entrance and living room, but there was also lights and music coming from the basement, meaning JJ could literally be anywhere. Luckily, the ratio of guys to girls was positively halting so being able to single out a 6 foot man amongst a sea of girls shouldn’t be that hard.

And then, you saw him.

You almost fell over at the look of him. You could tell he had already started drinking and was a little sweaty by the sheen covering his face and the way his hair was standing up on its own, like it always did after he ran his hands through it. He was leaning against the wall, PBR in hand, assessing the crowd and laughing with the guy on his left. Your eyes travelled down from his hair and glowing skin to his neck and chest, both completely uncovered. He was in a navy button up that was incredibly tight around his biceps but only buttoned on the bottom two buttons. A gold badge was pinned over his right breast, and then it dawned on you. 

“You’re a fucking cop!” You punched his arm as you snuck up on him.

Startled and rubbing his arm, he softened when he saw who had just assaulted him. “Never thought you’d see the day, huh?”

“What happened to ACAB? Looks like someone’s all talk…”

He scoffed and threw his arm around your shoulder, walking with you towards the bar, “It’s called irony sweetheart. I thought a genius like you would understand that?”

You rolled your eyes and shook his arm off you, laughing at his remark (and trying to not focus on the “sweetheart” of it all), “So, what branch of the police force is it that allows their officers to walk around half naked?” You teased as you walked up to the bar, asking the frat brother in nothing but a cowboy hat and too short cut off jean shorts for a cup of whatever the drink was tonight. 

“Um the one with all the sexy stripper cops. They even gave me these,” You turn back around with your drink against your lips and you nearly spat it out when you saw what he was talking about. He had a pair of what looked like actual handcuffs dangling off his pointer finger, “Fully functional,” he finished with a wink.

You gulped and hoped he didn’t notice, “Very impressive, does the rest of the force know about the stash of weed in the loose floorboard in your dorm room?”

His face, and the handcuffs, fell. “You’re no fun, Y/N. It’s Halloween! You can be anything you want! And tonight, I’m the only cop that isn’t a bastard.”

You laughed at his mini outburst and put your hand on his cheek sweetly, still laughing. “You’re right I’m sorry. You make a very non-bastard cop. It suits you.”

“I always have looked good in blue.”

Lightly smacking him you rolled your eyes again and brought your hand back to your cup, looking at him as you took a big drink. He was looking directly back at you. You finished off the cup and tossed it at the overflowing trash can, “Let’s dance. I love this song.” This was a lie, you had never heard this song before in your life, but you just wanted an excuse to grab his hand and drag him on the dance floor. 

Everyone around you was dancing ass to dick, going absolutely stupid in a true intoxicated fashion, but you weren’t nearly drunk enough for that yet. So, instead, you and JJ did what you always did was just jump and scream at each other, throwing in some limb flailing every now and then. If you were really lucky, he would throw in the sprinkler every now and then. This was all fine and dandy, a couple of songs deep, until you felt your elbow accidentally collide with something rock hard, immediately followed by something wet splashing all over your back.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-” you said, spinning around, mortified. You were met with the biggest man you had ever seen in your life who did not look very happy to see you looking back at him. But, considering his eyes looked glazed over, you figured that had less to do with you and more to do with the fact that he was probably off something far out of your league. 

“Fucking watch where you’re going next time,” He gruffed at you as he jerked the arm you had hit away.

You were stunned by how aggressive he was, “I’m- I’m sor-”

But before you could stutter out an apology, JJ was pushing you behind him, puffing his chest out as he faced the roided-out gentleman giving you a death glare. “What the fuck did you just say to her?”

“She spilled my drink,” The giant said as if you had just murdered his dog.

“Yeah and this is a frat house, go turn on the faucet in the sink and I’m sure Captain Morgan will come out,” spat JJ.

Sasquatch scoffed and shook his head at JJ, “Just keep a better handle on your bitch, pledge. I don’t need some slut wasting all of our alc.”

“You son of a bitch.” You saw JJ’s arm wind back, his fist clenched ready to swing.

“JJ, no!” You grabbed his arm before he could do something seriously idiotic and didn’t let go of it until you had made your way off the dance floor and into the backyard. “What the fuck were you thinking, trying to throw a punch at that guy?! He looked like he eats whole goats for breakfast!”

His hands were running through his hair and he was pacing. You could tell he was trying not to punch the siding of the house - you had seen him worked up like this countless times over your near lifelong friendship. Loyalty was both his greatest strength as well as his greatest curse. “He called you a bitch, Y/N! And a slut! In the same breath!”

Looking at him now, his hair all messed up, his shirt still unbuttoned, and face as emotional as ever, you had never been more attracted to him. You closed the gap between the two of you and grabbed his face between your hands, “Thank you for trying to protect me, but I’d much rather be a bitch and a slut if it meant you weren’t pulverized by Bigfoot.”

At the feeling of your touch, his whole demeanor changed. You saw him swallow and take a breath, “Yeah, uh, well. You know. I’ll always protect you, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for, ya know. I live to serve and protect you know,” chuckling half-heartedly as he tapped the badge on his chest. 

You tried to laugh along with him, but you were too busy staring from his lips to his eyes and focusing on the dizzying feeling of being so close to him. He made no effort to move out of your personal space and having him here, his back against the siding of the house, your hands on his strong jaw, you felt like maybe now was the time to bring up what you had been feeling these last couple of months. But before you could open your mouth to spill your guts, something in him snapped and he sprung forward at you. 

Suddenly, your hands were in his hair and his hands were on your waist and now you were the one with your back against the giant brick building, the bricks scratching deliciously against your exposed skin. You whined against his lips as he pressed against you, the sound apparently shocking him out of his trance because just as suddenly as it had started, he was pulling away, leaving you completely dazed, lips still half puckered as your eyes fluttered open. 

He was back to pacing, not daring to look at you. “God that was fucking stupid, I’m so sorry Y/N. You were just yelled at by some heavyweight douchebag and all I could do was not throw a punch and then I just had to go and kiss you like a fucking jackass,” he paused his pacing and looked at you, his face all screwed up with guilt, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

For a moment you considered the situation and didn’t move a muscle or say a word but then you just laughed. An eruption of manic giggles fell from your lips as you watched him go from guilt to confusion. “You’re a real fucking idiot you know that,” you managed to spit out between laughs.

“I mean, yeah, jackass, idiot...they’re one in the same I guess,” he seemed hurt by your words so you stepped closer to him again.

“No, God, shut up. You’re not a jackass. But you are an idiot. I don’t care that you kissed me,” you paused, “That’s not true. I care a lot, actually, because I loved it and I wish you wouldn’t have stopped because I was really starting to get into it after the, like, 12 longest, most torturous years of build up ever.”

He couldn’t believe the words you were saying, “Wait...so you- you like me?”

“What, you think I come to the frat parties for the mystery booze and trap music?”

Now it was his turn to laugh, his face completely breaking open in elation, “And to think I just assumed you were a party girl...turns out I’m just irresistible.”

“Oh shut up,” you sighed as you slammed your mouth against his again, pulling him down to your height. Once again his hands found their firm grip on your hips, holding on for dear life. 

And then he pulled away again.

“Stop fucking doing that. Kiss now talk later,” you tried to lean back in.

“No, uh, I just,” he cleared his throat, “I was just wondering if you wanted to take this inside maybe?”

You smiled up at him before kissing up his neck and whispering in his ear, “Whatever you want.”

He shivered and groaned, breaking away from you, grabbing your hand and leading you back inside. You weren’t sure where he was taking you because, since he was a freshman, he didn’t live at the frat house or anything so it’s not like he had a bedroom. Not that it mattered. He could take you to a damn broom closet for all you cared. But he didn’t take you to a closet or even a vacant bathroom. You maneuvered around the sweaty crowd of people until you were back at the front of the house but this time going up the staircase where all the upperclassmen lived. 

“JJ what are we doing up here…” You asked with a slight edge of concern in your voice. 

His face was full of mischief as he looked back at you, smirk plastered across his lips. “Don’t worry about it baby, I’m just trying to find us somewhere a little more comfortable.” And with a wink, he was turning the knob on a door that definitely didn’t belong to him.

As far as frat boys went, you imagined this was a relatively well kept room. There were still some pizza boxes stacked on top of the desk and clothes spilling out of the closet but, all in all, it didn’t look infested or anything. 

“JJ, who’s room is this?” You asked as you saw him lock the door behind you. 

“Bigfoot’s,” he said with that same smirk on his face, complete and total pride practically bursting his seams. 

Your mouth dropped as you looked at him incredulously. JJ was always one for pranks and revenge, but this floored you. 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” You said in awe as he made his way back over to you.

“Maybe, but damn. What a way to go.” 

Then he was kissing you once more, but this time he had guided you back towards the bed and you were laying underneath him, his body hot and hard against yours, making it hard to breathe. His hands ventured from your hips to your hair and back down again, making sure to give your tits a squeeze on the way back down, pushing them back behind you to guide your ass up so he could get as close to you as possible. You were back to your gasping and whining as you felt the effect you had had on him through his pants, grinding against him in desperation. 

“Fuck you’re so fucking sexy, Y/N,” he moaned against your neck, leaving the slightest of nips along your jaw between kisses. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this or how many times I’ve thought of you exactly like this.”

“You can have me anyway you want. I’m yours,” You weren’t really thinking about what you were saying before the words left your mouth, but it didn’t make them any less true. 

He growled against your neck and grabbed you again, scooting you up towards the top of the mattress. His hands found yours wrapped around his neck and took them in his hands, pushing them above your head. 

“Anyway I want, huh?” He was sitting on his heels, looking down at you with hooded eyes. All you could do was nod. “Well, I do have these handcuffs, and it’d be a shame for them to go to waste.” You moaned at the implication and watched him unhook them from his shorts and attached them to your wrists, wrapping them around a bar of the headboard. “Told you they were fully functional,” he ended with a wink.

All you could do was whimper as he bent back down to kiss your lips and then your neck, taking a pit stop at your chest to move the cups of your bra aside enough for him to give plenty of kisses there as well, until he was finally trailing his tongue down your stomach. He looked up at you as he reached the waistband of your skirt. You nodded, “Please,” not even being mentally present enough to care about how desperate you sounded. 

“So polite,” he muttered as he pulled your skirt and panties down in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare to him. “So damn beautiful.”

Then he was on you like a starved man. JJ had always been popular amongst the ladies on the island and while you always assumed his looks and bad boy nature had been enough to seal the deal, you now know why they kept coming back. He was a fucking machine. Between the way his fingers fucked you skillfully, knowing exactly where your g-spot was on the first try, and the masterful way he used his tongue on your clit, it was no wonder he had a body count in the double digits. You felt yourself catapult towards the finish line at an embarrassing speed. All you wanted as to grab onto his hair and grind yourself against his face. You were so close when he took his mouth off you and replaced it with his thumb, his fingers keeping their pace inside of you.

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Maybe he’ll hear you from downstairs. He told me to control my bitch but I’m not quite sure this was what he meant.” He crawled back up your body, one hand bracing himself beside your face and the other inching you closer and closer with every second, “You look so fucking pretty, getting fucked by my fingers, Y/N. You’re so wet for me already and I know you want to cum. So just do it baby, cum for me.” You did not need to be told twice because suddenly your legs were clamped shut, and your body was arching so far off the bed that your wrists felt like they might break against the handcuffs. He kissed your neck as you came down, whispering sweet little praises in your ear. “That was so hot.” You smiled weakly as he looked at you from above.

“Please let me touch you,” You whined as you struggled against the handcuffs, desperate to get your hands on him. 

“God, yes, be my guest,” He laughed as he went to undo your handcuffs, kissing your wrists as he pulled them away. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about how these might hurt.”

“It was worth it,” You smirked as you grabbed his face, pulling him down to kiss you and then immediately pushing him onto his back. 

You mimicked his style from earlier, starting with the lips and moving down the neck before making your way slowly towards the waistband of his shorts. You unzipped his shorts as his hands went to your hair, making a makeshift ponytail. You both worked together to shimmy off his bottoms until you were face to face with him.

Immediately, you took him into your hand and marveled at the size of him and the way he instantly moaned and threw his hand back as you started to pump him. Needing more of those noises, you wasted no time in licking up his length and taking him into your mouth. He helped you set a pace by guiding your head with his hand in your hair, profanities falling out of his mouth. “You take my cock so good, baby. Your pretty fucking lips...driving me fucking crazy…”

He started shallowly pumping into your mouth before pulling out just when you felt like you were starting to get good. “You’re fucking amazing princess, but unless you don’t want me to fuck you we’re gonna have to try that again some other time.”

You moved your way back up his body, this time fully straddling him. “I’m an angel, not a princess.”

Smirking yet again, he grabbed your hips and grinded you against the length of him, “Sorry, but last time I checked angels don’t spend a lot of time taking dick in their mouths.”

“Well in that case I can just head out if you want me too-”

He flipped you over again before you could finish your teasing, “You’re not going anywhere.” And then his lips were back on you and his hands were everywhere all at once, guiding your legs to take their place at the side of his waist. Before long he was lining himself up at your entrance, teasing you against your clit, before he finally plunged into you hard and fast. You were still so worked out from his previous work that you didn’t need time to adjust, instead just able to focus on the feeling of him filling you completely. Before long you had your legs stretched over his shoulders, giving him even better access inside of you, making you scream his name over and over again as you felt yourself start to clench and flutter. 

“Your pussy is so fucking amazing, Y/N. So wet and tight for me. God you take it so good,” His eyes were screwed shut as he was trying so hard to focus on making you finish before he lost it. “Such a good girl for me, sucking my dick and fucking me like that. Oh, fuck.”

He leaned back, holding your legs in front of him, and started pounding you even harder. You grabbed a hold of the sheets next to you and screamed so hard your voice cracked in your throat as you came for the second time. You barely noticed him finishing after you, too far gone in your own bliss. When your soul came back to your body he was falling onto the mattress beside you and wrapping you up in his arms, both of you still panting. 

His hands found your hair as you rested your cheek against his chest, his heartbeat hard and loud in your ears. He lent down to kiss the crown of your head and he sighed against it. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit is right,” You laughed as you rested your chin on his chest so you could look at him, “Well that was fun.”

“I don’t think fun really begins to describe it. I’d go with life changing.”

“Life changing? Wow, I’m honored. I think we should write Bigfoot a thank you letter for making this happen.”

JJ scoffed, “Pssh that guy? No thank you. No one gets to call my girl a slut and get a damn thank you note out of it. I don’t care how good the sex is after.”

You smile slightly and your voice softens, “Your girl?”

He looks down at you with a smile mirroring yours, his one little dimple making your stomach do backflips and his fingers tracing shapes on your back, “I mean yeah, I guess beating around the bush is a lost cause at this point. Is that ok with you?”

You laid your head back on his chest, reveling in the gentle way his fingertips were barely touching you, “That’s more than ok.”

Trying not to seem overeager he cleared his throat, “Cool.”

Laughing to yourself you responded, “Yeah. Cool.”

Unable to help himself he scooped you up in his arms tighter and pulled you even closer, his head resting in your neck trying to hide his smile. Your fingers danced along his scalp and you smiled to yourself. Yeah, you could get used to this.

[kinder-writes-surprises]

A Writer’s Favourite Trope

yuh this is just plain tooth rot teehee. also, welcome to my first non-bnha writing piece on Tumblr! I think this is orange because it has like... two slightly suggestive pieces and a smooch? idk we’ll roll with it

-Mod Pasta

Word Count: 1399

It wasn’t supposed to be too complex: As part of Marc and Nathaniel’s individual projects for their different college classes, they chose a trip to Italy to study the art there. They went together, being best friends since high school after all, and partners in work. Unbeknownst to the other, both had massive crushes on one another. They did not share the knowledge of Italian though, and this led to many the problem: Getting onto the wrong connecting flight and being redirected twice, Nathaniel grabbing the wrong luggage and having Marc comfort him in the bathroom for twenty minutes after the angry mother stopped yelling at him, losing track of one another and holding hands with bright red faces until their taxi arrived, and the icing on the cake: Booking the wrong size room.

Marc was sure he had booked for two beds. Alas, there before them was one bed in their tacky beige hotel room, the smell of salt and bread wafting in through the drapery blowing in from the windows. Next to the bed was a night stand with a written note including the wifi password, some sweet words that Marc couldn’t make out, a complimentary sampler perfume, and a quickly hidden plastic package that left their cheeks bright red while Nathaniel used the bathroom and brushed his teeth.

“It’s fine, we both fit on your bed usually,” Marc gaped, looking at the curtains and then back to the bathroom door. Marc’s bed was wide, had lots of pillows and blankets to separate them, and there was always the impeding eyes of their parents making sure they wouldn’t so much as brush against Nathaniel’s arm. Now they were alone, utterly alone, and Nathaniel finally popped his head out of the bathroom, startling the black haired person, “Right?”

“Y-Yeah,” They nodded, swallowing hard. They flashed him a painfully fake grin, “It’s pretty early, do we have anything planned?” The dumb question left an incredulous look on the boy’s face. Marc had been the planner of their first day, after all. Their cheeks darkened further, “Ah, it’s um,” They looked at the clock, “Eight AM, and the bu-bus comes at one, right? Yeah,” They nodded to themself and Nathan’s eyes softened, approaching the nervous and flustered one.

He placed a hand gingerly upon their shoulder, “We’re here, we made it. We’ve got a whole week in Italy for crying out loud, let’s relax for a bit,” He then covered his mouth and looked away, a long yawn escaping from his body. This spurred Marc into yawning, and they both ended up chuckling. Nathaniel, now in a sleeping shirt and his boxers, flopped onto the bed. Marc went to the bathroom and freshened up, getting into a sleeping shirt and shorts. When they popped out of the bathroom, Nathaniel was already fast asleep.

Knowing the boy was usually diligent unless tired, Marc set the alarm on the bedside table to 12:30, and their own phone alarm just in case. However, when their eyes flickered to the bed, their heart skipped a beat. Nathaniel was fast asleep on the right side, his legs splayed out a bit. Marc was much taller than the boy, and had grown like a beansprout during high school. They had to carefully maneuver their body into a comfortable position, hoping not to disturb the redhead. Their entire body had to be red by now, and their noodle legs stuck their feet right at the edge of the queen sized bed.

Queen sized, what were those clerks thinking? They hadn’t the nerve or guts to ask for a rain check on the room size, and Nathaniel’s previous question of availability had been shot down with a scathing “We are booked weeks out!” At least that is what it sounded like to the shy person and bolder boy. They had been told they only needed to know how to count and say please and thank you, and they had already been yelled at in Italian twice now, and those two flight attendants individually spoke their own languages, so they could include those as well.

Marc could almost taste the body heat rolling off of Nathaniel. A slender being, Marc was always chilly, while his forever warm friend was a natural furnace. Sometimes they would lean on the boy in the dead of winter, too cold to worry about their dignity. However, it was a chilly summer morning in Italy, and the thin double cover the bed had provided minimal warmth.

Marc would rather die than scoot an inch closer to their lava-skinned crush, but they wouldn’t have to: the boy sighed, shifting his body around to where he was splayed on his back. Marc lay still as frightened prey. Then their tempter shifted again, their leg draping over Marc’s abdomen and arm resting on their chest. Marc’s heart jumped into their throat: The boy was already transferring heat to him like a conducting cord, and he seemed attracted to the other’s chilly nature.

Just as Marc was starting to drift off, the long flights and layovers finally catching up to them, Nathaniel scooted closer, a small grunt exasperating his unconscious effort. Marc felt their eyes snap open, and the smaller boy was suddenly cradled against the front of him, practically spooning him. Marc definitely wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon they thought: not with their crush’s body pressed to the front of them.

Time passed by slowly, and Marc tried to memorize the way Nathaniel slotted against their body like it was the last book they would ever read. However, they couldn’t keep their mind running for too long, and even they succumbed to the previous day’s escapade sleeplessness.

-

Marc was also the one to wake up first. They noticed that there was something soft and flesh in their hands, and when they looked down, strands of red hair assaulted their mouth and eyes. They shook their head free of the assailants, but only awoke their owner: their very sleepy friend. Nathaniel slowly looked up, and it dawned on both of them that they were intertwined, Nathan’s arms and legs around Marc while the other gently encompassed his torso with his larger legs. Nathan was even technically sideways straddling the other.

“I-” Nathan cut Marc off with a quick shake of his head, starting to pull back from the other.

“Oh Gods, I’m sorry,” Before he could, a smile graced Marc’s lips that caught him off guard, halting his detanglement of limbs.

“It’s okay,” Marc’s voice shook with embarrassment, and their bright red cheeks gave everything else away. Nathaniel swallowed hard, blue eyes boring holes into Marc’s.

“I could wake up like this again,” He whispered, catching the author off guard. They gasped, looking to the boy’s shoulder to break eye contact.

“H-How many times?” Gosh they sounded so awkward, their lizard brain was a menace wrecking havoc on their social abilities.

“I-uh,” Nathan blinked in shock, “Every day?” Then he gaped, his face draining of colour, “If you want to, that is.”

“That-That’s my line, Nathaniel,” Marc’s flustered expression shifted when they giggled, and Nathan also laughed, remembering that day they had met. The day he mistook Marc’s writing for Ladybug’s journal, and upsetting and indirectly akumatizing the other.

“Then take it,” Nathaniel’s eyes flickered down to Marc’s lips, and Marc was about to ask what he meant when it dawned on him. He was entangled in bed with his crush shamelessly flirting with him, and now he was asking them to kiss him. Marc couldn’t possibly deny this.

So they leaned forward, eyes beginning to close. Nathan’s rough lips met Marc’s lipstick tinted own for a second, the exchange of minty breaths momentary before two blaring sounds had elbows and feet scrambling for purchase.

The alarms had gone off. Marc fell off the bed, and Nathaniel’s shirt was stuck around his head now, the sheets trapping his legs together. They both laughed like maniacs immediately at their awkwardness, and they quickly got ready for their bus to the Vatican City. They could hardly admit that such a scuffle had led to bruises littering both their bodies for the rest of the trip, but they figured it out eventually.

Maybe it just took a week outside of the city of love for them to recognize it in each other, and a very, very stereotypical trope.

[starlightkenobi]

*character* is hesitant to take relationship to next level (smut hehe) because they are significantly older than reader and feel as though they would take advantage but reader finally convinces *character*

I LOVE THIS !!!! i hope you dont mind that i did this with obi wan but this just sounds like such a situation he would get himself in hhhh 🥺 hes our little jedi baby, but im so excited to do this oh my gosh, i hope you enjoy !!!!

Patience // Obi Wan x Reader Smut

rating: explicit

warnings: age gap - but reader is 18+ and gives EXPLICIT consent, just to clarify - this is not underage !!!, also i kinda let my size kink run wild oops, dom Obi Wan, it gets a little rough at the end, light choking

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Obi Wan, I am not a child anymore!” You huffed petulantly, like a child.

“Darling, I know. I just…I’m so much older-” 

“Obi Wan, I swear to the force, if you say that you are ‘so much older than me’ one more time I will kick your ass.” You mocked his posh accent while chastising him. He laughed at this, always admiring your spunk and attitude. “The age gap isn’t even that big anyway…” You mumbled. This was of course, a lie, as he was significantly older than you.

“Love, I understand that you think you want this now, but what if that changes? I wouldn’t want to be in a position where I could be taking advantage of you.” He gave a soft smile, stroking your cheek lovingly. You knew that he was only doing this because he loved you deeply. He just needed a little push to show that you really wanted this.

Your hands brushed up and down his robes lightly, feeling the expanse of his broad chest. “Love…what is it that you’re doing?” 

A small smirk appeared on your face. “Nothing…” Your hands quickly moved to your own clothes, letting the outer robe fall to the floor. Obi Wan shot you a warning gaze, as if pleading with you not to continue so that he could keep his composure. However, you just flashed a devilish look back at him. 

Slowly, you began to strip off your jedi robes, undoing each layer while dragging your hands up and down your body as to tease him. During this little show, Obi Wan started to let out deep, shaky breathes. You chuckled at this. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Master Kenobi?”

Another shaky breath escaped his lips, which were red from biting them. “N-no.” He stated firmly. He had composure, and he wasn’t going to budge on this matter, no matter how appealing you looked. Even as you removed your undershirt, letting him get a better view at your breasts, he vowed not to let his composure falter. He was a jedi for force sakes, having control was part of the job description.

“Oh really? Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I did…this.” On the last word, you reached around to unclip your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders and to the ground. Obi Wan almost moaned when he saw your body. Almost.

“You sure you aren’t getting uncomfortable Master Kenobi?” You ran your hands up and down your breasts slowly, teasing your nipples and letting out soft moans for him.

“Uh huh.” The jedi had been rendered almost speechless.

“Then…what’s that?” You motioned to the bulge that was forming in his trousers. He quickly moved to cover it, but you took his large hand in your own and brought it to your breast. He sighed as he felt your soft skin under his even softer touch. His hands were calloused and rough, yet he was so gentle. Slowly, you raised yourself up to his ear and whispered to him.

“Stop denying yourself and just take what you want.”

Obi Wan threw all of his composure out of the window.

Both of you practically pounced on each other, all of the sexual tension that had been brewing for months was finally coming to a head. You two passionately collided, lips moving together in a synchronized dance. His lips felt warm and soft against yours, stirring a fire deep within your belly. Suddenly, Obi Wan pulled away and met your gaze while you two panted.

“Love, are you sure that you want this? Because once we take this step, I’m not sure that I’ll be able to hold back. Your breathing slowed, finally evening out as your eyes glazed over with what Obi Wan could only assume was pure lust. 

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back.”

Obi Wan’s jaw dropped slightly. He felt his heart hammering in his chest when he realized that this was finally going to happen, and that you really, really wanted it. Knowing this, he forcefully brought his lips to yours again. It wasn’t enough pressure to cause you any pain, but it was just enough to make you whine into his mouth. Your hands quickly found Obi Wan’s shoulders and you grasped them tightly, wanting to have something to keep you standing when your legs felt incredibly shaky.

Breaking the kiss again, Obi Wan moved to quickly free himself of his jedi robes. He wasn’t slow or teasing like you had been. He moved with the ferocity of a man starved, and you being a meal in front of him. When his chest was finally exposed to you, you gasped. Seeing his broad shoulders and the small tufts of well groomed chest hair drove you absolutely wild. 

His eyes shot up to yours, almost growling when he said, “Get on the bed, darling.” Without hesitation, you quickly got on the bed on the other side of the room, with Obi Wan following closely behind you. You two collapsed on the bed together, limbs tangling and hips joining, muffled moans falling from both of your lips as you continued to kiss passionately. You lifted up your hips even more, trying desperately to get some much needed friction. But much to your dismay, Obi Wan’s hands quickly found your hips and pushed them down into the bed, preventing you from grinding into him. You whined as he pulled away from your lips.

“Patience, young one. I’ll give you what you need.” He leaned away from you, slowly pulling your underwear down and off your legs. “Maybe that’s what you need…a lesson in patience.” That was all you heard before he disappeared between your legs.

He lifted up one leg, planting soft kisses and little bites down your thigh. You gasped, feeling him mark your thigh, so close to where you wanted him the most. You moaned trying to lift your hips up to get friction again. He tutted, pulling his mouth away from you entirely. “Like I said, little one.” He grabbed your hips and pressed them down into the mattress again. This time, more firmly and while glaring down at you. “Patience.” All of a sudden, he brought one of his hands down to where you craved him, and stroked lightly along your slit. 

“F-fuck…” You moaned, as you were finally getting touched by his skilled hands. He splayed his other hand across your pelvis, covering it almost entirely. Seeing his large hand press down on you, preventing you from moving your hips toward him, it stirred something deep within your core. Fine. If he wasn’t going to let you take what you want, you would have to resort to begging him.

“Obi Wan…please. I w-want you to-”

“Little one…if I have to tell you one more time to be patient, I’m not so sure you’ll be too fond of the consequences.” He snarled, looking like a beast staring down at his prey. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t have you dripping. Suddenly, all of his touch stopped, and he released the pressure on your hips. You whined loudly, but didn’t protest in fear of his response.

“Love…before we continue, I want to make sure that this is okay.” You gave him a confused look. “I mean to say…me taking control. I just don’t want to get too rough with you.” You chuckled.

“Obi Wan, I want you to be rough with me.” His snarl was back, and with that, the pressure on your hips and the touch on your core.

“Good girl. Now let’s see if you can be patient for me.” You were. It was difficult, but you lay back through all of his teasing, only letting moans escape your lips at his light touches and kisses.

After what seemed like ages, he relented the torture. “Good. You’ve been so good for me. I think my little one deserves a reward for all your patience.” With absolutely no warning, he disappeared between your legs, devouring you. Loud moans escaped your lips as you writhed beneath his mouth, which was doing wonders for you. His tongue, expertly dipping beneath your folds and around your clit. If heaven existed, you’ve found it.

“Oh, gods Obi Wan!” His searing touch slid up your thighs as he continued to give you the pleasure you craved. His beard burned your thighs, but it felt so good.

“Aww…is my little one going to cum already?” He removed his mouth from you, but replaced it with two of his fingers, already pumping inside you. Even though you would soon learn that this would be nothing compared to his cock, you already felt so full. His fingers matched his large hands, and he had you writhing on them instantly. You looked up at him, as if asking permission.

“Yes, love. You can cum.” His mouth immediately went back to your clit, swirling around it with his tongue. You felt yourself squeezing down on his fingers, so close to finally having your release that you so desperately craved.

His fingers curled upwards, hitting that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back in your head. “Cum.” You swear you saw the galaxy behind your eyelids as the coil inside you finally snapped. He coached you through it, steadily pumping his fingers inside of you and sucking lightly on your clit until the last wave of your orgasm pulsed through you. You gasped as he removed his tongue and fingers from you, bringing them up to your mouth, which was still hanging open from the mind blowing pleasure you had just experienced.

“Do you want a taste, little one?” You nodded frantically, your mouth now eagerly awaiting his fingers. He slid them past your lips, letting you suck your juices from them before shoving them deeper down you throat. You gagged slightly, but you were determined to show off how deep you could take his fingers.

“Good girl.” He took his fingers out of your throat, a string of spit connecting them. You were panting and drooling, he had made you nothing but a mess underneath him. “Your mouth takes me so well, I’ll have to remember that for the future.” You sighed at his promise, imagining you choking on his cock. But right now, you knew that wasn’t going to happen. As much as he chastised you for being impatient, he was just as impatient as you were right now. He needed to be inside of you.

“Do you think you’re ready to take all of me?” You smiled at the notion, nodding your head. “Use your words, little one. I want to hear you say it.” You could have sworn he almost growled, but it was low in his throat and too hard for you to hear.

“I want to feel you, Obi Wan. Inside of me.” He chuckled, his voice lower than normal. His eyes appeared dark as he freed his erection from his underwear.

“Good girl.” He lifted up your hips, slowly pressing inside of you. You moaned, gripping the sheets as you felt him fill you up.

“Obi Wan, please-ah!” You let out a surprised moan as he lightly slapped your thigh.

“Do I need to reiterate that this is a lesson in patience? Little one, and here I thought you were learning.” You moaned as his length continued to slowly slide into your heat. Even as he tried to keep his cool, you could see him falter and let out shaky breaths and gasps.

“Gods...you feel so good.” Finally, he was all the way inside you. But to your dismay, he was only giving you slow, gentle thrusts.

“Obi...fuck, p-please fuck me. H-hard.” You tried to speak in between moans. He met your eyes, kissing your lips softly. 

“Love...are you sure?” He let out soft grunts as he slowly slid in and out of you.

“I want you, Obi. All of you.” The wild animal was back. Seeing you beneath him, practically begging him to fuck you hard, it clicked with something in him, and he completely snapped.

“Then I’ll give you what you want, little one.” Suddenly, he was fucking into you with ravenous speed. He craved you, he craved this, and lucky for him, you craved it too.

“Hnnng! O-Obi!” You moaned loudly, feeling him roughly fuck into you. He slid his hands up and down your chest, squeezing your breasts possessively. He was taking you apart and putting you back together with every thrust, making you fall completely apart for him.

“That’s my girl. So good for me.” He continued to pump in and out of you, gripping your hips so tightly that there would most likely be dark bruises there tomorrow. You were babbling, laid out completely bare beneath him. You wanted to touch him everywhere, but you settled for grabbing onto his biceps, your nails unintentionally digging into him.

Obi Wan’s grunts were turning into moans as he pounded inside of you. He was getting close, you could feel it. As were you. You just needed that final push to send you over the edge. His hands were now rubbing up your entire chest, sliding over your neck tentatively. You moaned wantonly when he accidentally applied a little bit of pressure to your neck. His eyes widened, and he stared at you in mild disbelief as he continued to thrust into you. As if to test his theory, he wrapped his hand around your neck and squeezed gently. You moaned even louder this time, your eyes glazing over and beginning to fill with tears from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Shhh, shhh. Darling, I’ve got you.” He quickly removed his hand from your throat to wipe the tears from your eyes. “I’m so c-close love.” He somehow fucked into you even harder, making you almost scream in pleasure.

“Cum for me, little one.” White hot pleasure soared through your veins and you felt it in every inch of your body as you arched your back. Your nails clawed into his chest, and your brain felt foggy, almost as if you were floating.

“That’s it, there you go.” Obi Wan chanted as he fucked you through your second orgasm. Tears began to fall down your cheeks as he feverishly fucked into you.

He pulled out, crawling his way up your chest and to your mouth, where you leaned up and eagerly took him. He moaned as you sucked the head of his cock, waiting for him to spill his release inside your mouth. He stroked himself fast, chasing the release he had been working towards.

He cursed, spilling into you. You felt his seed hit your tongue and smiled around his cock, swallowing every drop. With a shaky breath, Obi Wan practically collapsed next to you. You turned to him, a wide grin on your face.

“Well...you look pleased with yourself.” He chuckled, his smile matching your own. You brought your hand up to his cheek, stroking it lovingly. He took your hand in his and your lips collided.

“You mean more to me than every star in the sky.” You giggled, but you knew this was true. He was breaking the code, he was putting his job, his livelihood at risk, and it was all for you.

“And you mean more to me than the entire galaxy.”

[just-got7-things]

A Heart is a Heavy Burden

Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 

She doesn’t know how long she swam through the darkness, but her body refuses to move no matter how much she tries. It is as if a huge weight is on top of her, keeping her down in the depths of the abyss.

An echo finally appears in what felt like the front of her head. She can’t place the noise but she knows she has to find it. As she gets closer to the noise, it become more clear. The familiar voice is saying something to her, calling her out to consciousness. The dull pain that she felt as she was swimming is awakening once again. Her head pounds and her ears ring when she finally hears her name.

“Y/N! Oh my gosh, Y/N! Come on! Wake up!” The voice frantically calls out to her, desperate for her to wake up. She feels his hands roam her body checking for any injuries she may have obtained from whatever happened. She groans and her body begins to stir. The light is overly bright when she opens her eyes. She blinks back the darkness and looks up to see who’s voice she followed back.

“Y/N! Thank God you’re awake. Are you okay? What happened?” Fluffy brown hair frames a long face with high cheekbones. He looks down at her with worry written all over his face. She could feel his hands shake in both fear and relief.

“Hoseok…h-how did you get here?” Her arms move up under her to push herself up, but a sharp pain runs through her arm causing her to hiss and fall back down. Hoseok’s hands quickly find her shoulders pulling her up before she collapses back to the floor. Her eyes move down her arms in search for the cause of her pain. A blood red circle made of two snakes encasing a flower is burned across her wrist. A large, black bruise blooms just beneath it allowing a dull throb to match the beat of her pounding heart. A gasp escapes her lips as she studies the intricate marking.

“I was on my way home when I saw your door open. I looked in to find you laying on the floor. You-” Hoseok’s eyes follow hers. His mouth falls open as soon as he sees it permitting an inaudible gasp to fall out. One of his hands moves under her arm to hold it in place as his fingers delicately trace over the pattern. She winces at his touch but doesn’t pull away. His touch somehow soothes her skin enough for it to be bearable. He pulls his eyes up to hers, a million questions running through them. Her eyes mirror his but she finds something she doesn’t expect.

A thin silver ring surrounds his iris but quickly disappears as soon as she notices it. Her eyebrows furrow but before she can say anything, Hoseok is getting up and walking into the kitchen. He grabs a small towel and wets it with cold water. He brings it back to her and wraps it around her arm. The cold cloth calms her inflamed skin and a small bit of tension is released from her shoulders.

“Y/N, what happened?” Hoseok’s voiced is laced with anxiety as he stares at her fragile state. She looks down but quickly meets his eyes once more.

“A witch was here tonight.” Saying it aloud made the dream become reality. She stares at Hoseok gauging his reaction. When he stares back, she feels the need to continue, “A few weeks ago, on the way home, I was being followed by someone or rather something. I was prepared to defend myself but someone else came and saved me. It was someone I had met before when I was a little girl. He looked exactly the same though, I don’t know how. Anyway, he made the thing disappear and I came home like nothing happened.”

She wishes he would give her any type of reaction but he didn’t. He sat there patiently listening with intent. “Tonight, a witch barged in asking how I knew someone. I had no idea what she was talking about so I asked her to leave. That’s when she attacked me. I blacked out and then you found me.” Her voice falls flat with every word. She wasn’t one to talk over enthusiastically but her words left an odd taste in her mouth. When she looks back up to Hoseok, his eyes have changed. They no longer stare at her but at the ground. “Hoseok?” She calls his name and he immediately snaps his head up.

“Who was she looking for?” He asks with urgency. His breathing noticeably increases as he waits for the answer.

“You- Now you don’t look good. Hoseok, what’s wrong?” His face becomes pale the more she asks. His eyes continuously flicker between her and the floor as if he was avoiding something.

“Who was she looking for, Y/n?” He makes his voice strong again but she can tell something is really bothering him.

“Kim Taehyung.” The name causes her to whisper. She doesn’t know why but it carries weight. Her wrist stiffens as the syllables leave her mouth like the scar is listening to her speak. The throbbing pain that was subsided with the cold towel once again returns causing her eyebrows to knit together in discomfort. Hoseok sees her face change and reaches up to feel of the now dry towel. He carefully unwraps it from her wrist and goes into the kitchen to dampen it again. She studies her mark but Hoseok returns quickly and wraps it up again. He sits on his knees and sighs heavily.

“We better get that looked at.” He stands up before offering his hand to her. She accepts his offer and manages to pull herself off the floor with his assistance. Her body is stiff from laying in an awkward position for who knows how long. She carefully shakes out her limbs and attempts to get her body back to normal, as much as she can at least.

“I don’t think we can just show up to a hospital and say that a witch did this. That would raise too many questions that we don’t have answers to. I don’t even know who they were.” Her mind flips through the stories she’s heard of people going to the authorities or hospital about supernatural attacks. They usually didn’t end well.

Hoseok stares at the wall contemplating what to do. She can see his mind working as fast as it can to think of a better idea. Finally he speaks,“I know of a place. Let’s just hope they are as friendly as the rumors say. Get dressed.” Hoseok pauses and looks at her with an odd expression, “but don’t look in the mirror.”

“What do you mean?” She is already headed to her room when she hears the last part of his sentence. Instead of going into her room, she turns into the bathroom and turns on the light. The sight she is met with causes her jaw to lose all tension. Standing before her was not her reflection. Her hands fly to her hair and pull at it frantically. The eyes that stare back at her are full of shock. Silver hair frames her face, still curly from the tight bun she had earlier. Grey eyes sparkle in the light above the mirror. She even has silver eyebrows to match. She quickly moves around the bathroom trying to find fault in the reflection. A pit opens in her stomach as she studies herself. At a moment like this, one usually would scream or cry or just utterly panic. She is confused yes, but she also feels numb. This makes the pit even bigger.

Movement in the doorway catches her eye and she immediately turns to Hoseok in confusion. Instead of panic, he looks sad. He looks her up and down but finally meets her eyes. “It will be okay. They should be able to help. We will get you back to normal, but we need to hurry.”

The pit in her stomach seemed endless but she knows she has to get moving. She exits the bathroom, pushing past Hoseok who continues to watch her from the doorway as she moves into her bedroom. She gathers her clothes and looks at him, silently sending him away so she can change. They have been friends for years but that didn’t mean she no longer required privacy. She can see in his eyes how disturbed he is. From what he has told her, he has had dealings with magic before but not like this.

He keeps an eye on her as she moves throughout the apartment collecting things she might need. He can sense whatever encloses her aura and he doesn’t like it. More has changed than just her physical appearance but he doesn’t know the exact extent yet and that troubles him deeply. He cares for her and will take extreme measures to protect her no matter what. Guilt fills his chest as his eyes follow his now silver haired friend, he wishes he could have come home a little sooner. Maybe things would be different. He smiles at her when she finally announces that she is ready to go but his smile does nothing to reassure her. His eyes tell her that something is very wrong.

~~~

She didn’t know where they were going but she trusted Hoseok enough to know that he wouldn’t lead her into any danger. He took her through many back alleys and main avenues before she finally could figure out the familiar path. Some of these streets are ones she uses to get to work but some she didn’t recognize at all. She would be lost by now if she wasn’t following closely behind Hoseok. You have to be lost to find things that don’t want to be found. A voice echoes through her head reminding her of her childhood. She hasn’t heard that saying in years and it brings a little comfort to her with all the chaos that has happened lately. Her thoughts flip through her mind about her past as she and Hoseok round an unfamiliar corner connecting to another alleyway, although this alleyway pulls her out of her thoughts immediately.

Cracked, weathered bricks surround the two of them leading to a dust covered shop that looks as if it has been left untouched for ages. Confusion settles over her and her feet come to halt. This is the third time she has seen this shop and somehow it feels wrongs. She feels as if no one should lay eyes upon it except maybe once in a lifetime on a chance that it allows itself to be seen, but this is the third time now that she gazes upon it. It feels wrong… but it also feels right, like she belongs there. Like she is meant to view this shop as many times as she wishes.

Hoseok looks behind him to make sure she is still following him. When he sees that she stopped he grabs her hand delicately and pulls her along. It doesn’t take much for her feet to move again and they quickly walk up to the shop.

“Hoseok, what are we doing here?” He hasn’t said a word to her since they left and they have been walking around for at least two hours. Hoseok turns to her with confusion written all over his face, “Wait, you’ve been here before? When? How?” His gaze is fixed upon her waiting for her reaction when something moves behind out of the corner of her eye. She barely catches it but she knows she saw it. Out of the corner of her eye, a golden wisp of light moves across one of the windows on the second floor. Glittery flakes of amber trail behind it as it quickly moves out of sight.

“Y/n.” Her name being called pulls her attention to the man in front of her. “How do you know this place?” His look of surprise turns into something she has never seen before. Hoseok’s face contorts into fear and anger. She can’t even guess his thought process but she knows whatever it is, it isn’t good. “Hobi?” The affectionate nickname pulls him out of his thoughts enough for him to cover up whatever he was feeling. He breathes in deep and slowly releases it with a heavy sigh. She’s never seen him act like this. The carefree Hoseok that she knows was not this man that was standing in front of her. He looks deep into her eyes before turning and walking towards the door with her in tow. His grip on her hand is gentle but firm as if he is the one in need of reassurance.

Crumbling stairs lead to two giant, solid wooden doors intricately decorated with twisted beams coming down the sides and across the arched ceiling. Their aged appearance very noticeable at the close proximity. Large splinters rest at the bottom, crawling their way up to the top and the old finish seems to be nonexistent allowing moisture to bow the wood at the sides. A sun resides on the left door and a moon resides on the right. Both looking to be hand carved and very special but the years have finally caught up to them allowing the workmanship to fade. Each step to the door causes a peculiar feeling to run through Y/n. The mark on her wrist stings as they take each step and the scar feels as if its twisting inside her skin. She looks down to find the two snakes surrounding the flower slowly spinning in the endless circle that they complete. Both eat the other one’s tail as they move. Disgust runs through her chest making the mark feel even more powerful. She pulls her sleeve down to cover it as Hoseok raises his hand to knock on the door decorated with the moon. She finds it odd that he knocked on the moon rather than the sun but this thought becomes fleeting when the door glows a bright white.

As if a mirage had been covering the whole building, the image before them melts away revealing a completely different building beneath it. The bricks no longer look worn and tired of the many ages they have stood there, instead a youthful red blooms through them. The windows look freshly cleaned and doors now look as if they just had been made. Silver and gold now run through the wood corresponding with the sun and moon. Y/n’s heart shifts as she stares at the new appearance of the shop. Instead of excitement, she feels…numb. She feels nothing after witnessing her first real taste of magic. How odd that she used to be excited and giddy when someone even mentioned magic but now her heart feels like a desert, dry of any positive emotion.

The radiant door opens to reveal a small face of someone she doesn’t recognize. Fluffy blonde hair falls over a small forehead and large, chocolate brown eyes sit above a soft round nose followed by plump, pink lips.  Isn’t this where he lives? Why would someone else open the door? Many questions pop into her head but before she could think through them, the person behind the door speaks.

“Can I help you?” A soft tenor voice asks as confused eyes stare at them. The door remains cracked just enough for the man’s head to poke out, shattering any invitation of coming in.

Before either of them could speak, another voice sounds from behind the door. “Who is it, Jimin?” The man at the door turns to whoever was speaking from inside and says something inaudible. A sigh escapes Y/n and a new force blooms inside her chest. She pushes past Jimin and strides into the shop looking for explanations.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t just walk in here uninvited. I don’t even know how you did that.” The mumbled last sentence goes unnoticed as she enters the building. A man standing in front of a fireplace looks angry but at the same time disturbed. She knows it’s not right to come in uninvited and it probably will only lead to them getting thrown out but she has to get some answers. She at least has to find him.

“I’m here to see Kim Taehyung.” Her voice comes out strong, trying to hide the fear that is slowly devouring her. Hoseok stands behind her as Jimin closes the door. As his name leaves her lips, it’s like the entire room stops breathing. No one dares to make the first move or even make a sound. Determination is set in her eyes and the man at the fireplace can tell that she isn’t leaving without seeing him.

“How do you know that name?” Sparks appear in the man’s eyes when the name is spoken. He places the wood that was in his hands on the hearth and slowly clasps them behind his back. A small flicker of flame licks the man’s arm but quickly disappears behind his back where his hands hide.

“Please. We’re just looking for answers, not a fight.” Hoseok cautiously moves in front of her, shielding her from anything the man might throw at them. Jimin moves out of the corner of her eye but it doesn’t look like he’s putting up defenses.

“Yoongi.” A familiar deep voice calmly sounds off behind the man and the soft glow from the flames fade. He brings his hands back down to his sides and side steps revealing the owner of the commanding voice. Shaggy black hair and a sharp nose as well as the voice are the first things she recognizes. However, instead of excitement like she felt last time, all she feels is a dull anger. Anger? That surprises her. Why anger? It isn’t his fault this all happened. But is is. A voice from deep inside her itches he brain and changes her thoughts.

The man she now knows as Taehyung walks up to the group, studying each person. His eyes linger on Yoongi’s but rapidly meet her’s. His calm manner remains but his eyes say something else, curiosity but also worry.

“How did you find it?” The warmth she once felt when hearing his voice has now turned to ice. A cold bite envelopes her arms and chest, snaking its way to her heart. Instead of answering his question, the only answer she can think of lies on her wrist. She pulls up her sleeve and reveals the blood red signature the witch left behind.

[etherealfangirl10]

Gotham High: Jarley

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Joker X Harley

Warning: None

Summary:

-What would have happened if Joker and Harley met in High School? Would things have turned out differently?-

Harleen

I took a deep breath to calm myself. It's okay. I'm just starting a new school, right? Nothing TOO bad. Well, hopefully.

No. Harleen. You will NOT be thinking like that. I took another breath and threw on a black T- shirt and a red skirt, two black diamonds embedded on the design on each side of my hips. I slipped on black leggings and red tenis shoes before striding over to pick up some hair ties and putting my blonde hair up in pigtails. I hoped I looked somewhat presentable, though I doubted no one would actually care...

I walked out of my room, already had done my teeth earlier, and headed to the front door. My mom was already gone, off to work I supposed. To my surprise, the bus was already coming down the street, and I hurried up to the sidewalk. It's doors opened and I cautiously stepped inside, taking a deep breath. As I turned to face the people inside the bus, I felt like every pair of eyes were on me. Ducking my head, I began to walk forwards to find a seat. As I saw an empty space, I began to stride over to it quickly, and that's when the bus began to move, lurching forwards. I found myself tripping over something and tipping forwards, my eyes widening as I saw the floor come closer and closer. I landed with a loud bam and felt my cheeks heat up. I hastily got up and smoothed out my skirt, sure that my pale face was beet red.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" A voice said behind me. I turned around to find a pretty girl with a black tank top and shorts. She had a look of genuine concern on her face, and I felt my anxiety lessen slightly. "My name is Selina. What's yours?" She tilted her head as she seemed to calm down, noticing that she hadn't seen me around before.

"Er.... I'm.. Harleen....Harleen Quinzel....." I replied, and shifted uncomfortably, still standing. I still felt the eyes of others on me, and slight snickers still lingered in the air, making me feel like making a hole appear and jumping into it.

"Are you new?" She asked, and I almost shot back a sharp reply, but embarrassment halted my tongue. She continued. "Well... here. You can sit by me." She scoots over, closer to the window.

"Oh! Uhm, thank you..." I mumble, and, after hesitating for a moment, sat down next to her quickly and jerkily, sitting up stiffly and away enough not to touch her.

"Relax, I'm not gonna scratch you." She laughed, her green eyes flashing playfully as she leaned towards me. I felt my face flush once again and nodded, a shy smile on my lips.

*They arrive at school*

I practically jump up from my seat as soon as the bus came to a halt, ready to get off this trap of humiliation. I leaped down the stairs, not even touching them in my haste to get off. Selina caught up quickly, taken aback with my behavior.

"You're not trying to ditch me... are you?" The pretty brunette asked, her sharp gaze narrowing suspiciously.

"What? N-no! I was just-" I got cut off as, suddenly, a girl behind me rammed into me. I flew forwards a couple of feet, stumbling to keep my balance. As soon as I was safe from face-planting (again), my hand flew to my shoulder to rub the spot that was hit. "Well then. Isn't this perfect." I mumbled to myself as I flinched at the spot that was already beginning to bruise. Pale people problems.

"Oh, dear. Didn't see you there, love! I was rushing to- oh, hey, aren't you that new girl, umm, what's the name? Harleen?" A feminine voice sounded from behind me, and I groaned, turning around.

"Yep, that's me. And clearly I telepathically invite random people to hurt me." I didn't mean for my tone to be sharp, but I was already fed up with embarrassing myself twice in less than 30 minutes. I blinked, all of the sudden realizing she knew my name. My brain whirled as I tried figuring out how this random girl knew her name.

"My, so prickly." She retorted, but she didn't look angry. In fact, my comment looked like it just amused her, and she added with a gleam in her eyes, "like a cactus." Okay, weirdo.

"Uhm.." My spirit died all of the sudden, and we just looked at each other in an awkward silence. Now that I mention it, the girl was pretty, with pale skin and startling green eyes, brownish red hair landing in soft waves at her shoulders. Her gaze was kind, unlike Selina's sharp looks.

Speaking of Selina, she hooked a slender arm around the girls, hooking their elbows, and smiled, flashing white teeth.

"Heeyyyyy, Pammy." She said, and I could have sworn it sounded like a purr.

"It's Pamela." The girl corrected, and flashed me a brilliant smile. Whoa. Is every girl going to be gorgeous here? "But you can call me Pam." She assured me, blushing slightly. "That's what my friends call me. Er... if I had any, that is." Selina protested at that, offended.

"Nice to meet you, Pam." I greeted softly, sending a small smile back. She nodded, before starting to walk over. Whoa. Personal space. But she only stopped when she reached me, our faces almost touching.

"So. What's your first class? Maybe we have it together!" She exclaimed, staring into my soul. I fumbled with swinging my backpack around and unzipping the smallest pouch, sliding out my schedule.

She snatched it, leaving my hand in mid air.

"Oh! English! Aw man, don't have that." Pam pouted, looking down at me with big, green eyes. She was only slightly taller than me, and Selena taller than us, having long limbs.

I sighed, shrugging with a, admittedly, sad smile. "Guess I won't be having a friend to sit by. Unless.." I turned to give Selina a questioning look, and she just shook her head.

"Sorry Harleen." She answered, placing her head down on Pam's shoulders sadly.

"That's alright. I'll just... bear it." I shuddered at the thought of going in the class alone.

"Ooh, wait! But I can take you there if you'd like!" Selena popped her head back up, green eyes lighting up with newfound energy. I smiled bright, relaxing just a little.

"Great! Let's go before the bell rings and there's a student rush!" I suggested, and she giggled, grabbing my hand and launching towards the doors, me flying behind her.

"Whoa!" I squeaked, and Pam quickly pushed my schedule into my outstretched hand before I was whisked away, waving sweetly at us, and yelling that she'd see us at lunch. I barely managed to wave back before the school doors slammed behind me.

Selina and I almost flew to the classroom, her rapidly pointing out directions to all sorts of rooms on our way. We finally came to a screeching halt next to a door that looked exactly the same as all the others, and she beamed at me, just as a loud sound emitted from the speakers. I realized it must be the bell, as students seemed to have appeared from no where. My eyes widened as the hall slowly began to swarm with people, and Selina laughed as she pushed me into the classroom.

I slunked to my seat, trying to stay out of attention, and sat down at an empty, random seat, putting my head on the table. It wasn't the ideal first morning at my first day at school, but... at least I had some friends, right? I mean, I sure hope they were. I bit my lip softly, and looked up as the teacher walked in, a short brunette. I started to calm down a bit, when all of the sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I'm ashamed to say that I jumped in my seat, and spun around to face the person, startled. "Uhm, yes, what-" my blue eyes widened as I took in the culprit, which happened to be a boy.

Now, I know love at first sight isn't a thing, but let me tell you, attraction at first sight is.

Pale with emerald green eyes (green eyes seemed popular here), his face was already a sight to behold, but what really caught my attention was his hair.

Dark green hair, sticking up all over the place, but somehow charming all the same. I blinked, trying to snap back into reality. Those sparkling, bright eyes weren't helping my train of thought.

All I managed was a meek, "hello?", before he started grinning a sparkling smile, and that's when I knew.

I was gonna have to seriously avoid this dude.

*ack, sorry, guys, this is my first fic on here and I’m still getting used to format difference and fonts and all that ^^ hope ya enjoyed the first chapter!*

[jayjay1665]

There For Her

Written for @stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale​  writing challenge. Day #19 Helping Hand.

Summary:  After Clem returned to the school, unconscious, missing a leg, and what looks like on the brink of death, Louis vows to always be there for her. Sequel to It's Okay To Not Be Okay.

Note: the idea of this actually sprung from a post��@bluebutterfly1​ made a loonng time ago. i had it saved on my computer and was trying to write for it, but no good ideas came to mind, so i figuered i’d just keep it and maybe comeback to it eventually. And i finally did after like...months...lol 

Word Count: 923

A03

Wattpad ( i made it a seperate work on A03 and Wattpad, but it’s also added to It’s Okay To Not Be Okay as a part 2)

~

Louis sat on a chair besides Clem bed as he silently observed her current features. The sickly pale, almost grey skin, such a contrast from her usual light bronze tone. And the most prominent feature… Louis allowed his view to wandered to the lower half of her body. He felt a sick twist in his stomach as he looked at what remained of her left leg. A stump wrapped in gauze with blood already starting to seep through.

He swallowed hard, but regretted the action before ha had a chance to fully carry it out due to the pain that sprung from the back of his mouth. Another reminder from the traumatizing past 24 hours.

He reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it as gently as possible, as if too much pressure would cause the whole limb to disintegrate. As he gently stroked her hand with his thumb, his mind wandered back to the recent event of her arriving. He didn’t want it to, but he has learned that the mind will sometimes make you think of things you’d rather keep locked away.

~hours earlier~

Louis sniffed loudly as he gently pulled himself away from Ruby’s shoulder. The tears and snot that weren’t already absorbed into her shirt still stuck to his face. Ruby grabbed a napkin off of the nightstand and proceeded to gently wipe his face for him.

“There ya go, hon.” Ruby said softly. She grabbed another fresh napkin and pushed it to his nose.

“Now blow.” She commanded gently.

Louis raised his eyebrow at her, a questioning look in his face that seemed to ask, “Are you serious?”

She raises an eyebrow back at him “You heard me. Blow.” She commanded with a sterner tone in her voice.

Louis rolled his eyes but obeyed. Ruby nodded at his cooperation and threw the used napkin into a small wastebasket by the bed.

Louis felt himself smile a genuine smile. Something he’s felt as if he hasn’t done in forever. Ruby mirrored his expression and asked,

“So, I take it yer feelin’ a bit better?” Louis thought for a moment before he slowly nodded his head.  He noticed his mind felt a little lighter. Ruby’s smile widened.

“Good. And remember,” she placed a hand in his shoulder, “I’m sure the others would help ya just as much, but I’ll always he here if ya need-”

 “OH MY GOSH!”

“WHAT THE-

“WHAT HAPPENED!”

 Ruby was interrupted as terrified screams and shouts erupted from outside. Her and Louis’ head snapped to the window before looking at each other, concern pained on their faces. They rushed outside as fast as they could and were met with a horrific sight. A sight they both knew no one would ever, or could ever forget.

AJ, from head to toe, was covered in blood and guts. Even thought the offending substance covered his face, the tears and sheer exhaustion in the boy’s face was apparent.

But that wasn’t all. The small boy was holding up a wheelbarrow, and inside of it holding up a wheelbarrow, and inside of it was Clementine’s seemingly lifeless body. And the most glaring feature, her left leg was cut off from below the knee. The appendage resembling nothing more than a bloody stump.

Louis’ eyes widened and his heart began to race. He felt as though whatever blood was left in his face had completely drained away. His breathing quickened.

“Oh…my…” Ruby’s voice quivered as she spoke.

“What?!- H-How…” Aasim stuttered, barely able to stand straight.

Willy was unnaturally quiet. He was just staring at the horrific scene, his face pale, looking like he could pass out at any moment.

Omar’s breathing was quick and heavy as he tried to stall the growing nausea growing in his stomach. He soon realized his efforts were in vain as he covered his mouth and ran towards a nearby bush to empty his stomach onto the forest floor.

Violet visibly trembled stepped closer to AJ and Clem. “Wh-…What… AJ?” She stuttered.

“Clem…sh-she got …I had t-to…she…” the poor boy struggled through tears. He could barely comprehend the situation even thought he had lived it himself.

“AJ..” Violet said trying her best to remain calm, “What happened?”

AJ was quiet for a moment as he tried to contain himself. He took a shaky breath before answering.

 “She got bit.”

 Louis felt a horrible tremor shake through his body. As if all his organs had collapsed on themselves, leaving him with no way to think or breathe. He dropped to his knees crying out a garbled mess as his worst nightmare was happening right in front of him.

-

Ruby worked on Clem for a couple of hours before letting anyone else see her. She only allowed AJ and Aasim to be present. AJ so he could explain to her what happened and if he did anything at all to keep the wound somewhat sterile until he got back to the school, and  Aasim was there to help her out and lend moral support.

She’s never had to patch anything up this bad before. After a couple of hours, she deemed Clem’s condition as stable, but all they could do now is wait and hope for her to wake up…

~

Tears clouded Louis’ vision as he continued to gaze upon Clem’s virtually lifeless form. From where he sat, he made a silent promise to her. If she…no, when she wakes up, he vowed to give her all the patience, support, and help she deserves.

He furrowed his brows as determination sunk in.

He will always be there for her.

[thenarator]

Paradox Pack: The Paradox Job Pt 2

another part of the thing i’m writing for my masks group! gosh this is so fun to write! i have determined there are going to be seven parts (if all goes well) consisting mostly of two-scene chapters. this is gonna be fuuuuun!

Clubs drifted in and out, for a while. He could feel pain in his shoulder, but familiar pain; pain that he knew, and could deal with. What was unfamiliar was the fact that the pain wasn’t going away. His healing factor would ordinarily have kicked in by now, closing the wound and quickly erasing the accompanying discomfort. This time however, the pain lingered, and a warm wetness spread out from his shoulder across his shirt.

He heard Nightingale calling for him, and Darkling. Both of them sounded very far away. He tried to answer them, but his tongue felt thick and stupid in his mouth. His eyes were closed -- when had he closed his eyes? -- but when he tried to open them his eyelids wouldn’t lift. They seemed heavier than anything he’d ever tried to punch his way through.

Eventually he felt himself being lifted and turned over, and then he was laid on a surface that was tilted, so he felt half like he was standing and half like he was lying down. It was cold, and coldness encircled his wrists as well. He tried to move, but his limbs seemed as heavy as his eyelids.

Then suddenly the pain began to ebb away rapidly, and as it went clarity returned to Clubs’ mind.

Nightingale had been put in a cage.

Clubs had tried to get her out.

Clubs had been shot.

Clubs had no idea what had happened next.

He opened his eyes, blinking in the light from a streetlamp directly overheard, to find himself being unloaded from a truck on some kind of stand like a figurine in a museum. He tried to climb off, but his limbs were shackled and bolted to the table. He craned his neck to look around, and was able to see Dynamo on another wheeled stand like his, her wrists and ankles shackled in place, and her eyes closed.

“Clubs!” came Nightingale’s voice, drawing Clubs’s attention back to the truck.

Nightingale was still in the cage he’d been trying to free her from when he’d been shot, her fingers poking through the wire mesh and her eyes wide and terrified. There were tear tracks on her face, like she had been crying.

They had made Nightingale cry.

With a roar so ferocious the two thugs who had been wheeling him back from the truck jumped backwards, Clubs began to struggle fiercely. He kicked with both feet and used every ounce of strength trying to wrench both arms loose, but he was firmly bolted to the table. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get free.

“Let them go!” he yelled instead, still thrashing. “Let all of them go now!”

No one paid him any attention. The two thugs, men in workman uniforms rather than the soldier types who had abducted them, again went to Clubs’ stand and began to wheel him away from the truck. Two more of them jumped into the back and began carefully opening Darkling’s cage, another stand waiting to receive them on the ground. Only Nightingale and Darkling were still in the truck. Where was Sundog? Where was Butterfly?

Abruptly Clubs was turned around, so that he was facing a low, one-story building that sprawled outwards instead of upwards. It was gray and industrial looking, made of cinder blocks and with no visible windows. In front of Clubs was a pair of steel doors flung wide, and already disappearing through them into the clean white hallway within was another stand bearing Sundog.

“Clubs!” came Nightingale’s voice from somewhere behind him, amidst the sound of Darkling’s various swears and shouting.

“Nightingale!” he called back, trying to comfort her, but fear was welling up inside him and he knew it was showing in his voice. He forced it down beneath anger and tried again. “You bastards, let her go!”

Again no one paid him any mind, and he was wheeled into the building as helpless as a broken toy.

***

“He’s not answering,” Portia said apologetically, lowering her phone from her ear and hitting the end call button before the voicemail could start recording.

Olivia made a noise of frustration and threw herself onto the bed backwards, and Pox fluttered down from the headboard to snuggle against her cheek. She had come home in a panic less than half an hour ago, muttering to herself and on the verge of tears. Portia had been getting a snack -- luckily, as Olivia might not have woken her up even for this -- and had quickly ascertained that rest of Olivia’s team had been abducted by the very organization they had been trying to foil that night. Olivia knew where they had been taken, but she didn’t think she could storm the place by herself, so she’d asked Portia to call Tornado to see if he would help.

“Can you try again?” Olivia asked earnestly. 

“I’ll text him,” Portia offered placatingly.

Portia opened her text conversation with Tornado. It was under the fake name John Egbert, and it contained mostly Tornado’s specs for the various thing he’d had her build. If she scrolled up far enough she knew she’d find the occasional “please” or “thank you,” but she would have to scroll pretty far.

SOS, she typed. Olivia needs you.

“What now?” Olivia asked, sitting up on the bed. “How long does he take to text back?”

“Not sure,” Portia admitted, taking a seat at her desk chair and letting the hand holding her phone rest in her lap. “Could be a while.”

“So, what, we just wait?” Olivia demanded.

“Pretty much,” Portia winced, hoping Olivia would wait. Pox made a chirruping noise from her position on Portia’s pillow.

Olivia threw herself down on the bed next to Pox again. “How do you do this?” she demanded. “How do you just sit here and . . . wait, for something to happen?!”

“Well knowing it’s my sister doesn’t make it any easier,” Portia pursed her lips and raise an eyebrow.

Olivia gave her a guilty look, and Portia softened. “But you answer right away when I text you.”

“Did you say it was urgent?” Olivia asked, a little despairingly.

“I said it was an emergency,” Portia told her. “I said-”

Her phone rang.

Portia nearly dropped it in surprise. Tornado only ever got back to her that fast when he was expecting to hear from her, usually when she’d just finished her latest invention as his behest. It warmed her heart a little, knowing that all she had to do was type SOS and he’d be there for her.

“What is it?” Tornado said as soon as the call connected. He sounded grumpy, and not at all as concerned as she had expected. “What does your brat sister need at this hour?”

Portia put the phone on speaker, grateful she had not done so immediately. “Olivia needs your help,” she said, then nodded to her sister.

Olivia bent over the phone. “My team’s been taken,” she said urgently, “by the Ring of Gyges. I know where they are, but I don’t know how long they’ll stay there; Gyges tends to ship people out wherever they’re sending them pretty soon. I need your help to-”

“You need my help,” Tornado interrupted, and his tone was strange. Portia couldn’t place it.

“Yes,” Olivia said through gritted teeth, “I need your help to rescue them. Can you meet me at the house? Or better yet, at 836-”

“Hold on now,” Tornado said, not at all in the rushed, frantic way that Olivia was speaking, but rather slow and contemplative. “We didn’t establish that I was going to help you, just that you need my help. And you admit to it.”

“Yes, I admit to it!” Olivia snapped. “Now will you or won’t you help me save my team?”

“I’m a busy man,” Tornado hedged, “I’m not sure I have the time to go rescue some young upstarts who decided to play superhero.”

“They’ve been taken by the Ring of Gyges,” Olivia said incredulously. “Did you miss a memo or something? Those guys are seriously bad new!” She paused, pouting. “And we do not play superhero, we are heroes.”

“A real hero would just save her team herself,” Tornado replied, and suddenly Portia realized why he had answered so fast. Not because she’d called for help. Because he wanted to rub it in Olivia’s face.

Olivia swallowed, blinking back angry tears. “I can’t risk this going south with my team locked up,” she insisted. “I need as much help as I can get, now are you in or out?”

“Out,” said Tornado, “unless you make it worth my while.”

“You want money?” Olivia said in pure disgust.

“No,” Tornado scoffed, “I want you to give up your little fantasy of being a superhero and stick to dancing.”

There was a pause, and Portia looked up at Olivia. She was silent, breath caught as she considered Tornado’s words. Portia could only imagine what was going through her mind right now. What would Silver Star say, if she gave up on being a hero now? What would her team say? What would become of all the little girls that looked up to Butterfly, who saw in her a dream that they had been taught they would be denied? Still, despite all of this, Portia knew what Olivia’s answer would be before she gave it.

“Done,” she said, closing her eyes so that the black butterfly painted across her face became solid.

Tornado laughed. “Looking for an excuse were you?” Portia could practically hear him grinning. “Fine, I’ll save your pals. When I get around to it.”

“What?” Olivia’s eyes came open. “No! We need to go right now-”

“Look for the big bust in the news in, eh, a couple days,” Tornado said confidently. “And don’t worry about them until then. I’m sure they’ll be fine-”

“That’s not good enough!” Olivia shouted, loud enough that Portia’s eyes flicked to the door, wondering if she’d woken their mother. “We are going right-”

The phone beeped, and the line went dead.

“Mother-” Olivia bit back a swear and made a frustrated noise, throwing back her head to gesture angrily at the ceiling.

“Jerk,” said Pox, aptly.

“Maybe he’s bluffing,” Portia offered, but it was devoid of any real belief.

“He’s not bluffing,” Olivia said, straightening and standing up from the bed. Pox leaped into the air and landed on her shoulder. “And even if he is, I can’t take that chance.”

“What are you going to do?” Portia asked as Olivia crossed to the door.

Olivia paused with her hand on the knob, then turned slightly to face Portia. “I’m going to talk to Darkling’s family. They wouldn’t like it, but it’s my next best bet.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” Portia demanded.

“I have other people I can ask,” Olivia said, then pulled open the door.

“And if that doesn’t work?” Portia said desperately, and Olivia went out into the hallway.

Olivia paused, half in and half out of Portia’s room, but did not look back. “I’ll figure it out,” she said, and was gone.

[serenlyss]

Reach

(Alternatively titled: Reach (for things you thought were gone forever))

Rating: G Pairings: ritshou, very small background terumob Summary: “Are you an angel?” Shou croaks, suddenly very sure that he must be dying, because this boy is so different from the rumors he’s heard from the people in his village that there’s no way he can be a harpy. He finds himself smiling despite the realization that his death is soon approaching, and murmurs, “You’re beautiful. If this is what dying is, I don’t think I’d mind going with you.” As it would turn out, not all fairy tales are born from imagination. Crossposted to AO3: Reach

Oh my gosh it's finally done. This AU was born from a half-baked desire to write a wings au with ritshou and I've been feverishly writing it for like 5 days now. I'm really excited to share it and super proud of how it turned out, so I hope you all enjoy it too! I had a lot of fun writing in a more poetic, descriptive style. Depending on how the inspiration hits I may write more of this au in the future as well, and make it into a little series. For now though, have this 12k+ word monstrosity.

---

Shou’s starting to regret not telling anyone where he’d planned on going.

His thoughts had started out innocently enough. The rumors of mythical creatures and terrifying monsters that lurked in the thick woods near his little village had always intrigued him, drawing his attention to the shadowy woods he’d been reminded from the time he could walk to never wander into.

Some of the stories are very obviously untrue, like the one that claims that a fearsome dragon sleeps within the shade of the forest’s tallest trees, guarding mountains of gold. They’re the kinds of fables meant to scare people from wandering off too far, but everyone is aware that dragons don’t exist. Even if they did exist, Shou doubts one would choose to live in a place as boring and uninteresting as this.

The other tales are slightly more believable to Shou. They’re stories that had probably sprung from a person’s real memories, stories spun with bravado and just a little extra embellishment each time they’d been told until they’d evolved into fairy tales in their own right. These are the ones that speak of monsters lurking beneath fishing boats, waiting to snap up any poor soul who happens to tumble from the safety of their ship, of human-faced animals that draw you in with sweet words only to lure you to your own inevitable death. Terrifying and malevolent creatures whose only interest in a person is to tear them apart.

Of all his people’s myths and fables, there’s only one that manages to pique Shou’s interest enough to draw him away from the safety of his town. These are the stories about the harpies, a horrifying combination of bird and man, a creature with the talons of an eagle and the face of a woman that could never be satisfied, always ravenous, searching endlessly for its next meal. They’re said to be terrifying, bloodthirsty, beautiful creatures, and Shou can’t help but want to meet one in person.

He knows, rationally, that he’s as good as dead if the rumors are true, but it’s not like he has anything more to go off of, or anything better to do. He’s terribly bored of his uninteresting, lonesome daily life, where the only exciting thing to come to his front door is the salesman trying ceaselessly to sell him things he doesn’t need. So, one day he packs up a bag with his sketchbook and some art supplies and a snack in case he gets hungry and sets off into the woods without a word. He knows that if he tells his neighbors where he’s going, they’ll try to stop him, and that sounds like more of a pain than Shou’s willing to put up with, so he doesn’t tell them. It’s not like he’ll be gone for long, anyway.

---

As it turns out, Shou is very, very wrong about the length of time it’ll take to reach the thicker center of the forest, and even more wrong about being confident in his ability to read his map. By the time he’s a few hours into his walk, he can’t tell what direction he’s moving in anymore, and he’s turned the map over half a dozen times trying to reorient himself. Eventually, he gives up and crumples the map into a ball, shoving it into the pocket of his backpack in frustration. Way to go, idiot, he scolds himself, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants as he continues to trudge ever forward, you’ve screwed yourself. This stupid forest is impossible to navigate, and now you’ve gone and gotten yourself lost.

The forest is like a maze, trees so close together that it’s impossible for Shou to see more than a few hundred feet in front of him at any time. It’s huge, too; Shou swears he’s been walking in a straight line since he entered the forest hours ago, but he still hasn’t reached the other side. His feet are starting to ache from the uneven terrain beneath his shoes and his neck is slick from sweat that beads from a combination of the hot, humid weather that accompanies the transition from summer to fall and the fact that he hasn’t stopped walking since he first stepped foot in the woods. He hasn’t even brought any water with him, certain that he’d be in and out in a few hours at most.

Shou walks and walks and doesn’t let himself stop to rest, too worried that if he stops he’ll forget what direction to walk in and never find the edge of the forest. It isn’t until the sun has fallen behind the horizon and the trees in front of him are almost too deep in the shadows to make out that he finally stops to sleep, curled up in the thick grass and undergrowth with his jacket wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

After five days of waking, walking, unfolding his crumpled map and futilely attempting to find his way back to his village, the lack of food and water is really starting to get to him. He hasn’t come across anything salvageable, not even a forest stream he could drink from to stave off the dehydration that makes his limbs feel heavy and his tongue thick and dry in his mouth. His skin shimmers in an ever-present layer of sweat as the liquid slowly seeps from his pores, and he’s powerless to do anything about it. Even though the sun doesn’t touch him very often through the trees, the humidity and heat grips him strongly, their fingers digging in and wringing every last drop of water from his body until he starts to feel the telltale dizziness and nausea shutting him down from the inside out. His brain turns to fog and his legs to jelly, but still he walks, knowing that the moment he stops is the moment he gives up on living.

In the end, it’s a gangly tree root that does him in. It catches him around his toes and makes him lose his footing, and he lets out a hoarse yelp as he’s thrown swiftly and certainly to the ground. He hits it shoulder first, arms not quick enough to catch him on his hands, and the shock of it sends cramps up his arm and down his back. He winces, sure that it’ll leave a terrible bruise.

He attempts to push himself to his feet, to continue his endless walking, but his legs won’t listen to him anymore. His arms can hardly support the weight of his torso, and after a few fruitless seconds he lets himself flop uselessly onto his back. The sun is setting, spots of white appearing against dark blue as the last rays of daylight throw long shadows across the forest floor and plunge his surroundings into a thick and unyielding darkness.

He blinks slowly, eyes falling shut for a few seconds before he forces them open again. His limbs are heavy, not an ounce of energy left over to lift them with, and as he stares up at the open sky above him he finds himself unable to make out the stars anymore, vision too fuzzy to separate the white from black. He lets out a shaky breath, feeling the weak breeze stir the hair that arches away from his face. Why did I come here? he wonders to himself, regret creeping under his skin and settling there. This was so stupid… He feels a tears leak out of the corner of his eye, streaking down his face and disappearing into the creases of his ear. He hadn’t thought he’d have any water left in his body to cry with, and yet here he is. He can’t even reach up to wipe the trail of wetness away.

Behind his head, he hears the sound of tall grass rustling under soft, light footfalls. He doesn’t even try to turn to see what animal has stumbled upon him, eyes half-lidded. He knows he’s as good as dead, and whatever scavenger has happened upon him must know it, too. By morning, he'll be long gone, and the animals will pick him to pieces until there are only bones remaining. Maybe one day, he muses to himself in a delirious haze, some scientist will finally make it out here and find my skeleton. They’ll say I was killed by the harpies, and make up stories about a fantastic battle I must have been in… I’ll become the story they tell their kids to scare them away from the forest. The thought brings a bittersweet smile to his face, a brief flash of humor that quickly dies as the feather-light footsteps draw closer.

He listens as the creature approaches him, crushing grass and dry leaves underfoot, until it pauses right behind his head. Its form casts a shadow over him, and through his hazy vision he sees it bend down to look at him. He furrows his brow, fighting to focus his blurry eyes enough to make out the thing that most certainly will be eating him once he finally kicks the bucket, and finds that it’s not an animal at all.

The creature lowers itself to its knees, half-crouched over Shou’s head. Two hands reach out and brush against his cheeks, soft and incredibly careful, but the touch is not quite human. Through his eyelashes, Shou can make out slim shoulders and a slender neck that leads to a head that is distinctly human-shaped, and he can see the shock of black hair that falls into the creature’s face and frames shining eyes with its long strands. Shou’s eyes open wider, a gasp of awe caught in his throat. Two sprawling, shimmering wings curl around the creature and shield Shou’s upper body from the outside, falling over him like a dome and blocking out what little light the half-set sun provides. Hundreds of pitch-black feathers hover over him now, like the ones from the crows he sees outside his modest house, picking at the neighbor’s garden. Something about this creature’s wings is ethereal, however, the kind of vision that can only be conceived in lucid dreams and supernatural visions. His expression swims into focus gradually, revealing an impassive, boyish face framed with those same dark feathers. There’s something melancholic about his expression, a wistful, empathetic look in his eye that makes Shou’s failing heart skip a beat in his chest.

“Are you an angel?” he croaks, suddenly very sure that he must be dying, because this boy is so different from the rumors he’s heard from the people in his village that there’s no way he can be a harpy. He finds himself smiling despite the realization that his death is soon approaching, and murmurs, “You’re beautiful. If this is what dying is, I don’t think I’d mind going with you.”

The boy doesn’t react to Shou’s words. He doesn’t even know if this mystical, ominous, alluring creature can understand his language, though he likes to believe the near-imperceptible lift of his eyebrows is an indication that maybe he can after all. If he does, he makes no effort to respond, simply slides his hands along Shou’s cheeks to gently cup his face between them. He leans over Shou’s unmoving form until his face is mere inches away, his warm breath ghosting over Shou’s skin. Shou wrinkles his nose instinctively against it, feels feathers tickling the bare skin of his arms, and then the boy closes the gap between them.

Shou feels lips press against his, warm and soft, and he draws in a shocked breath through the corners of his mouth. The kiss is careful and awkwardly angled, Shou’s head turned in the wrong direction for it to feel natural, but there’s no discomfort behind it. The dark-haired boy lets out a long sigh against his lips that fills his lungs with fuzz and butterflies, the sensation sending tremors down his spine and raising goose bumps along his arms. A numbness starts in the pit of his stomach and spreads outward, a comfortable heaviness weighing down his limbs and making his eyelids droop as though he’s about to fall asleep. So this is what dying feels like, he thinks, the last thought his brain can manage before his eyes fall closed and he succumbs to the darkness pulling at his mind for good.

---

Shou regains consciousness in phases. The first thing to return to him is his sense of touch, poking at the edges of his foggy mind in the form of a weight that pushes him down into something soft. He feels pleasantly warm and cozy, his head cushioned by a material that reminds him of the soft wool he sheers off of the sheep in his village every summer. His fingers twitch when he realizes he can feel them again, but he doesn’t dare move lest he ruin the comfort of the moment too quickly.

The next thing to return to him is his hearing. He registers, faintly, the sound of movement not far from where he’s laying, the clang of metal on metal or the shifting of fabric nearby. At one point he hears the sound of someone humming in a voice he doesn’t recognize, a melody that comes across only slightly out of tune. The humming is incredibly alluring, and the more he listens, the more he’s desperate to find the source of the voice so he can tell them how mundanely beautiful it is.

It’s this desire that prompts Shou to open his eyes at last. He blinks a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the light that filters into the room from the skylight overhead. He wiggles his feet experimentally, legs shifting beneath a thin blanket that’s been tucked around him securely. He takes a deep breath, then rolls onto his side with little difficulty, propping himself up on one elbow so he can orient himself in his new surroundings.

It doesn’t take him long to realize that he’s not dead after all, the pains in his head and soreness in his shoulder from when he’d fallen an indicator that this isn’t the afterlife. He lifts one hand sluggishly to rub his eyes before glancing around, taking in the humble room he’s found himself in.

He’s laying on a bed atop a mattress stuffed with sheep’s wool and feathers, it’s edges carefully shaped to allow for a flat, comfortable surface to rest on. The afghan now bunched around his waist is also made of wool, dyed and knit by hand from the looks of it, and Shou takes a moment to run his fingers over the surface of it admiringly before he slides his sluggish legs out from under it. If it isn’t for the ache in his head and shoulder he might think he’s dreaming, with the way his fuzzy mind doesn’t quite grasp reality and the soft but constant hummed tune tries to lull him back to bed. He feels like he’s crossed over into another world, bare feet sinking into the coarse fur of the elk pelt that covers a portion of the house’s wooden floor.

The whole house appears to be one single room. The bed Shou is sitting on is set up against the wall furthest from the front door, nestled comfortably in the corner under a window. A shelf housing rows of neatly-folded clothes sits beside an identical empty one, and on the other side of that he can see a second bed, a matching knit afghan neatly tucked around it. It looks like it’s been tucked in very carefully and deliberately.

Gripping the shelf at his side, Shou hauls himself uncertainly to his feet. He sways slightly, reaching his other hand up to his face for a moment as a wave of dizziness washes over him. It passes, though, the dark spots clearing after a few seconds. He releases his hold on the shelf, taking a shaky breath to steady himself before he continues to explore the little cottage.

A neat kitchenette is set up against one wall, a large wood stove and oven taking up most of the space. A stone chimney rises from it to vent the smoke, disappearing through the sturdy roof of the house. Wooden countertops line the rest of the wall, held up by thin, hand-carved beams slotted into holes in the floor, and on top of them lay bowls of fruit and jars of various spices, filling the house with a mixture of aromas that make Shou’s nose tingle. Above the countertops, rows of shelves hold bowls, pans, pots, plates, and even some utensils. Large spoons and spatulas hang in rows from hooks underneath them, each one just a little different from the others.

In the center of the room is a modest kitchen table, made from smooth wood and accompanied by four matching chairs. In the center of it, a woven doily cushions a tall, thin glass vase, inside of which are resting a handful of sunflowers. A few brown, dry petals have fallen from them, but they look otherwise healthy and alive, their clipped ends half-submerged in clear water. Shou smooths his hand over the natural wood, feeling the veins and notches beneath his fingertips. The table is finished with a lacquer that gives off a pleasant floral scent, like lavender. Shou’s never seen a table this nice before, not even in the huge houses of the richest people in his town. He can’t help but marvel at all the personal touches he sees all over the place, each and every item in the house handmade with a skill and precision that he’s only seen from the master carpenters that come to sell their wares in his tiny village.

The house’s third wall is lined from floor to ceiling with shelves. Some of them contain little trinkets - shiny rocks, wooden carvings, stuffed dolls with embroidered eyes and patchwork limbs, beaded necklaces and polished rings - while others are filled entirely with books. They come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, brightly colored spines propped up next to black ones. Some of them look like they’ve been bound in a factory, their pages perfectly even and titles printed on, while others are bound with string and leather and are labeled by hand with dark ink. Shou can tell their owner has organized them very intentionally, but he can’t quite figure out how. Fiction novels sit beside textbooks on physics and mathematics, historical journals lay propped between children’s picture books, and in one corner he even manages to find a few books in a different language, all of them written by hand.

He pulls one out and thumbs through it briefly, and finds it filled with still-life drawings between lines of text he can’t read. There are illustrations of mountain scenery, of lakeshores sprouting cattail reeds and waterfalls careening over jagged cliffs. There are sketches of fruits and flowers, animals and cloudy skies, each of them incredibly detailed and true to life. He has to resist the urge to touch them, a habit he might indulge with the paintings and photographs in his home, but he really doesn’t want to smudge art like this.

He turns the page once more and finds himself in awe all over again. Staring back at him is a beautiful sketch of a boy, sitting in a grassy field with his legs drawn up to his chest. His back is facing Shou, his head tilted up to stare at the sky above, and stretched out from his back are two massive, gorgeous wings. They dwarf the boy with their sheer size, and yet they seem to fit him perfectly, arching up over his head and sloping back down until the ends of them just barely brush the grass behind him. On the boy’s face is a serene smile, eyes soft with fondness and bright with innocent admiration. His hair is carefully shaped, blunt bangs brushing his ears and forming a ring around his head, and Shou has the fleeting thought that his haircut would look incredibly stupid on anyone else but him. Instead, the subject of the drawing manages to make it look charming, in a plain sort of way, and Shou can’t help but wonder how accurate the drawing is to how this person must really look, if he exists at all.

Shou closes the book and replaces it as though he’d never touched it at all, and finally wanders toward the open front door of the house. The closer he gets to it, the louder and more clear the humming becomes, the soft sound quickly swallowed by the noise of the empty fields around them. Shou leans against the door frame and peeks around the corner, breathing stalling when he lays eyes on the source of the noise. He recognizes him instantly.

The boy is young, that much is clear to see. In fact, he looked to be around Shou’s age, or maybe a little older. He’s taller than Shou is, though not by much, but his build is much slimmer, a lightness to his stature that Shou doubts he can replicate. Everything about him is long, from his legs to his arms to the fingers loosely holding the handle of the broom that he sweeps in gentle arcs, chasing fallen leaves from the porch’s wooden floor. His skin is sun-dark, turned a muted copper as a result of long hours outdoors, and his back and shoulders are nearly entirely bared by the backless halterneck top he wears. Shou finds his eyes drawn immediately to the soft edges of his shoulders and the gentle curves of his arms, slim but toned, like a runner’s, and to the divot in the small of his back where his spine curves and disappears into the waistband of his pants. His thin feet are protected by a pair of sturdy-looking leather sandals, held unmoving by the fitted leather straps that secure them.

The most amazing part about him, however, is the pair of pitch-black wings that sprout from his shoulder blades, framed by the seams of his backless shirt. Their feathers shimmer in iridescent hues, sometimes appearing more blue or purple or red depending on what angle the light hits them from. Even half-folded, they take up a great deal of space, even more so than the boy himself does: they’re easily almost as tall as he is, the tops of them level with his head and the ends of his flight feathers hovering at the curve of his calves. They’re beautiful, like something from a fairy tale or a fable, and Shou has to stop himself from rushing over and impulsively threading his fingers into the downy feathers that poke out from between the boy’s shoulders just to see if they’re as soft as they look.

Shou isn’t sure how many seconds he stares before the boy notices his presence, instinctively turning his head to look at him with eyes that are wide with surprise. His humming stops abruptly, as does his sweeping, and he stumbles over his own movements just a bit as he straightens himself up and holds the broomstick to his chest in a distinctly protective manner. “You’re awake,” he says, then winces at his own obvious observation.

Shou can’t help the grin that comes to his face. “Nah, I’m just sleepwalking,” he replies teasingly, shifting his weight off the doorframe to just stand on the threshold of the house. Now that he’s not staring at the floor, Shou can get a good luck at the boy’s face, and he takes advantage of it to give him another once-over. His tan face is all soft curves, and his cheeks still hold just a hint of leftover fat from his childhood years, giving it a rounded look. His hair is short on the sides and longer on top, and it spikes out wildly in every direction. Shou can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, but he can’t help but find it charming anyway. Some of the untamed hair falls into his forehead, framing eyes that aren’t quite humanesque. It takes him a few seconds to realize that the boy’s eyes are pale yellow where a normal man’s would be white, and his irises are all black, not a sliver of color coming to them. They flit over him restlessly, taking in his appearance the same way Shou is taking in his. Now that he’s getting a closer look, he can see the small, dark feathers that sprout in odd places, like the strips of skin between the corners of his eyes and his ears, or along the curve of his shoulders. It’s simultaneously fascinating and just a little bit unnerving, seeing someone who looks so much like him but still so different.

The boy’s brow furrows at Shou’s unwithheld snark, lips pursing in a minute frown that Shou finds surprisingly endearing. “Right…” he murmurs uncertainly, moving to balance his broom against the rail that surrounds the porch. He clears his throat into his closed hand, clearly uncomfortable, then adds, “How do you feel?”

Shou hums, grin softening into something a little more genuine in response to the boy’s concern. “Well, I’m not dead, so that’s good,” he answers. “Thanks for taking care of me, by the way. I was, uh, pretty sure I was gonna die back there, before you showed up out of nowhere.”

The boy nods. “Yes, you mistook me for some sort of angel,” he confirms. Shou sees the corner of his mouth twitch, like he wants to smile but has stopped himself before he can. “There’s no need to mention it. You’re lucky it was me, though, and not another human, otherwise there would have been nothing they could have done.”

Well, if that isn’t ominous, Shou doesn’t know the meaning of the word. “I was that far gone, huh?” he sighs, raising a hand to push a few loose strands of hair back into place, slicked away from his forehead. “How did you manage to bring me back from the brink, anyway? I remember that you kissed me, which was… well, it was weird, I guess, and then I totally passed out.” From the time he’d lost consciousness on the forest floor until now he has no memories, no way to know how much time has passed since then.

“Kissed you?” the boy echoes, looking confused for a moment before he seems to realize what Ritsu’s talking about. “Oh, you mean when I lent you my breath? That was just a spell. I put you into a coma, essentially, to conserve your energy output before you starved to death.”

“You can do magic?” Shou breathes, eyes wide with awe. “That’s amazing! No one in my village can do magic, they don’t have the genes for it. Human characteristic, apparently, but I’ve always thought it would be cool to learn. What other kinds of magic can you do?” The words tumble from his lips without much forethought, even as the boy shifts uncomfortably on his feet in front of him.

The boy lifts a hand to absentmindedly rub at his opposite arm, glancing away. “Why don’t we sit down?” he suggests after a moment of silence, gesturing toward the table sitting, lonesome, in the middle of the one-room house. “I think there’s probably some stuff we should talk about, and you should really get something to eat if you want to get your strength back.” That said, he moves into the open front door, not bothering to wait and see if Shou’s following. The wings on his back rustle quietly as he walks, and Shou has to keep himself from falling into another speechless stupor as he watches the way the light touches them.

The growl of his stomach is what saves him this time, and he stifles a laugh at its fantastic comedic timing. “Yeah, food sounds pretty sweet right now,” he agrees. Before he goes inside, though, he drifts over to the rail and peeks out at the scenery that surrounds them. The house is set up on the bank of a river that rushes down from a tall mountain behind them and disappears into the thick forest on the house’s other side. Shou doesn’t recognize the scenery at all, but he can’t bring himself to worry too much when this new change of location is so pretty.

After a few seconds he moves back into the house, spotting the black-winged boy sorting through the bowl of fruit on his countertop. He pulls a few pieces out and moves them into another, smaller bowl, alongside a small loaf of sweet-smelling bread. He looks nervous, Shou notes, and when the boy glances sideways to meet his eyes he’s quick to avert his gaze again. Shou wonders if he looks as strange to the boy as the boy does to him, if they’re both anomalies of their separate civilizations. Judging by the empty scenery all around the little cottage, though, the boy doesn’t have much of a civilization to fall back on, so maybe he’s just nervous to meet another person at all.

“What’s your name?” Shou asks, sliding into one of the four sturdy chairs. It doesn’t even rock under his weight, each of its four legs the perfect length to sit level on the floor. He can’t help but feel another surge of amazement that nearly everything in this house has been crafted by hand.

The boy turns and slides the fruit and bread onto the table between them, hesitating for just a second before taking a seat across the table from Shou. “It’s Ritsu,” he replies, tone soft and uncertain. “What’s yours?”

Ritsu. The name is surprisingly mundane, the kind of name that, if Shou heard it called in his own village on any given day, would blend right in with the rest of the locals. “Call me Shou,” he says, leaning one elbow on the table in front of him and propping his chin up in his hand. “Where is this place? I’ve never been to this side of the forest before. Seems peaceful,” he continues, conjuring up a map of the area surrounding his village in his head. He wonders how far he’d managed to walk before passing out, and his much farther Ritsu had carried him in order to end up here.

Ritsu nods his head, letting one hand rest on top of the natural wood table while the other reaches for a slice of the bread between them. He tears a piece off of it to eat, and it’s then that Ritsu notices his hands. They’re flecked with tiny feathers that sprout from his wrists and shift when he moves, and they’re tipped with talons that look much sharper than Shou’s blunted nails. They remind him a bit of the unnecessarily long nails that the rich women in his town wear, painted in gaudy colors and long enough that it makes it difficult for them to do something as simple as holding a pencil properly. Ritsu seems undeterred by them, however, pulling apart the bread with coordinated hands that are simultaneously gentle and precise. “Not too far from where I found you. I would tell you what I call it, but it won’t mean anything to anyone other than me,” he replies in a very unhelpful way. After a moment, he reaches out and picks up a second slice of bread, holding it out to Shou.

Shou blinks, meeting Ritsu’s expectant gaze across the table, and accepts the bread from his outstretched hand. He tries to ignore the way their fingers brush against each other as he does, tries not to shiver when he feels the little feathers at his wrist tickle his fingertips. “Thanks,” he sighs, bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite of it without bothering to pick it to pieces like Ritsu is.

“So… what’s it like being a harpy?” Shou asks after another moment of tense silence. “You’re so mysterious out here, living by yourself. The stories say harpies thirst for their next kill and are never satisfied, but you don’t seem so bloodthirsty to me.”

Ritsu looks up at him with an expression that Shou can only place as offended, eyes narrowed and brows knit together. Then he scoffs, face screwing up in unhidden condemnation. “Humans will come up with any excuse to rile each other up, won’t they?” he replies contemptuously. “And I’m not a harpy, don’t compare me to those folk tales. Harpies don’t exist, that’s just the name the humans gave to my people after finding traces of us. We’ve never hunted humans.”

Shou tilts his head, leaning a little further forward in his seat. “Then what should I call you?” he asks.

Ritsu huffs out a breath, tearing another piece of bread from his slice. “You can call me by my name. It’s not like you’ll ever meet another one of me again,” he answers quietly, and the bitterness in his words is palpable.

Shou purses his lips, a bit unnerved at the sudden tenseness in the air, and casts a glance at the untouched bed, nestled in the corner beside the empty shelf. “What about the extra bed? It belongs to someone, doesn’t it?” he asks, watching Ritsu’s face carefully to gauge his response.

Ritsu stands up and turns his back to Shou, moving over to the counter and filling two glasses with water from a pitcher. “It used to be my brother’s,” he answers after a quiet moment, “but he’s not around to use it anymore.”

Curious as he is, Shou’s not so confident he should parse this particular subject. He can practically see the muscles in Ritsu’s back tense up as he speaks, his shoulders hunching up a little closer to his ears and his head purposefully turned away. “I see,” he just says instead. By now, his bread is long gone.

Ritsu returns to the table after another minute or so, sliding a glass of water in his direction. “You need to drink lots of fluids to replenish the ones you lost,” he instructs. “It was the dehydration that got to you first. How long were you in the woods for, anyway?”

Shou cups his hands around the glass and sighs. “Five days. It was stupid of me to think I could make it through the forest,” he grumbles, feeling his regrets from his days of walking catching up to him now.

Ritsu just nods, face carefully impassive. “In the late summer heat, it’s no wonder you got so weak so fast. You probably sweated out most of your body fluids in the first couple of days,” he explains. “Speaking of which, you should really change out of those sweaty clothes, they reek.”

Shou jumps, feeling a rush of mortification as he looks down at his bedraggled appearance. Now that Ritsu brings it up, he can definitely smell his own body odor clinging to his shirt, and he’s certain he must be covered in dirt and grass stains. He screws up his face in disgust, nodding his agreement. “Ugh, you’re right, how did I not notice before?” he sighs. He downs the rest of the glass of water as Ritsu moves over to the shelf where all his clothes are carefully arranged, then stands up to follow him, hovering a foot or so away as Ritsu peruses his wardrobe.

Ritsu turns to face Shou for a moment, looking him up and down, and Shou does his best not to squirm under his sharp, meticulous gaze until the winged boy turns away again and begins thumbing through a pile of shirts on one of the middle shelves. At least, Shou assumes they’re shirts, but they look nothing like the tee-shirts and button-ups Shou usually wears. When Ritsu pulls one out of the pile and holds it in front of him, his suspicions are confirmed.

“Wear these,” Ritsu instructs, pushing the top into his hands alongside a pair of loose-fitting cloth pants. “They’re thin and have good ventilation, so you won’t overheat as easily.”

“Uh, thanks,” Shou responds awkwardly, laying the fresh clothes on the bed. He changes his pants first, which is easy enough, then reaches over his head and grabs his shirt by the collar, pulling it up and over his head in a smooth, well-practiced motion. Then he reaches for Ritsu’s lent top, and pauses when he sees that it’s less of a shirt and more of a flat piece of fabric. Backless, like Ritsu’s current top is. “Um, not to sound ungrateful, but how the hell am I supposed to wear this?” he asks, incredulous. “It’s got no back on it!”

Ritsu casts him a confused glance, tilting his head. “Of course not, it’s kind of hard to wear a shirt with a back on it when you have these,” he points out, gesturing to the sprawling wings that sprout from his shoulders. “It’s not totally backless, anyway, it has hooks at the bottom that clasps in the back.”

“This is super weird,” Shou mumbles, mostly to himself, but Ritsu’s indignant snort says that he’s heard as well. Still, it’s better than nothing, so he slips the halter neck of the shirt over his head and fiddles with it until it lays somewhat comfortably against the back of his neck. It rides high in the front, brushing the bottom of his throat, then swoops down below his arms to hug him around his waist. He moves his hands to clasp the back of it like Ritsu had described, his fingers finding the little copper hooks, but as much as he tries, he can’t get the pieces to fit together. “This thing is so complicated,” he curses.

Ritsu lets out a sigh that’s probably meant to be annoyed, and he takes the hooks from Shou’s fingers. “Let me,” he says, more of a demand than an offer to help, and deftly fits the little metal hooks together so the shirt is snug around his waist. The pants are high-waisted, riding up past his belly button, but even with the extra fabric in place the shirt still leaves slivers of his stomach exposed.

“You really wear this stuff everyday?” Shou asks, tugging at the edge of the top and attempting to stare at his own back to confirm that it really is as bare as Ritsu’s is.

“Only in the summer,” Ritsu replies. “Summer clothes are easy, since I don’t have to worry about covering the skin around my wings. My winter clothes are a bit more complicated.” He gestures to his bottom shelf, but without picking up one of the aforementioned winter shirts and looking at it himself, Shou has no way to gauge what ‘complicated’ could possibly mean. “In the summer it’s easiest to wear these kinds of tops, or just not wear a shirt at all.”

Shou nods, figuring it makes about as much sense as it possibly can considering he’s currently standing in front of an honest-to-god winged person.

Ritsu takes a step back and admires his handiwork now that the outfit is properly in place. “You look much better now,” he comments. “Your dull clothes are ridiculously boring, you know. You’d think humans would have some sense of color.”

“We do, that’s just what I usually wear when I go hiking,” Shou replies, scooping up his faded brow tee-shirt and laying it out carefully. “And if you ask me, it’s you who looks more ridiculous!”

Ritsu makes a sound half between a sniff of disdain and a laugh, and when Shou glances over he sees the dark-haired boy fighting another smile. It makes Shou wonder why he feels the need to keep his reactions to himself, what kinds of reservations he has about Shou that keep him from letting loose and expressing himself. “Say, Ritsu,” he starts, moving to fold up his tee-shirt and pants until he figures out what to do with them later, “why’d you save me, anyway?”

The question makes Ritsu stop in his tracks, halfway to the table to gather and replace the bowls and glasses he’d used for breakfast. “Why do you ask?” he retorts, answering Shou’s question with one of his own, and it comes across defensive.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem terribly fond of humans,” Shou says, sitting down on the edge of the bed he’d woken up in. He shifts uncomfortably in his borrowed clothes, trying to ignore the way he can feel the drafts on his back now. “I mean, I can see why, humans do some pretty shitty stuff all the time, so what made you want to stop and rescue someone like me?”

Ritsu swallows, picking up the glasses and bowls and dropping them in the sink to be washed later. He lets his hands fall against the rim of the sink, bracing against the surface of it, and is quiet for a few long moments, brows knitted together so tightly that lines form between them. A deep frown tugs at his lips, lips that Shou knows to be soft and warm. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment, quiet and contemplative and maybe just a little lost.

There’s really nothing Shou can say to that, so he doesn’t say anything.

---

Shou finds himself in very little rush to get home, and to his surprise, Ritsu doesn’t rush him to leave. When Shou asks, he brushes it off with empty words, telling him he isn’t back to full strength yet and that he should wait another night, but three days later, when Shou is back to feeling well again, he still hesitates to leave.

He’s not quite sure what keeps him rooted to this barren, empty space. Ritsu is the only humanoid creature for miles, which would normally make Shou ache for the bustle of the marketplace or the empty chatter of the village women gossiping by the church, but instead he finds himself soothed by the noise of the wind in the trees nearby and the lull of Ritsu’s soft humming in the early mornings when he doesn’t realize Shou can hear him.

“Aren’t you weirded out?” Ritsu asks him once, when they’re sitting in the twin porch chairs underneath the hand-thatched awning overhead. The woven straw back of it itches against Shou’s exposed shoulders, but he’s growing more used to it every day. Ritsu continues, “A person with wings like a bird’s, clawed fingers and a feathered face. Doesn’t it make you even a little afraid?”

Shou laughs, loud and unwithheld. “Of course I’m weirded out, you’re like something out of a fairy tale. Afraid, though? You haven’t done anything to make me afraid of you,” he replies, flashing Ritsu a bright grin in return. “You saved my life, after all, it would be kinda rude if I was scared of you after all that.”

Ritsu hums, soft and thoughtful, and runs his fingers absentmindedly through the feathers of one wing. Shou’s caught him doing so a few times now, has watched the way he straightens the crooked feathers and lets the loose ones fall to the ground to be swept up later. He’s preening, Shou realizes, and the thought causes a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. The little quirks he manages to catch Ritsu indulging in only endear him more to his new friend, if he can consider this friendship, and he finds himself feeling just a bit more fond of Ritsu with each day that passes. “I suppose it’s a good thing, that you’re not afraid,” Ritsu says after a long pause, his black-eyed gaze fixed in a point in the distance that Shou can’t follow.

Shou simply shrugs in reply. “I think it is,” he offers, and sees the way Ritsu softens to it, ever-so-slightly.

There’s a stretch of silence between them, comfortable and calm, and then Ritsu blurts, “Let’s go somewhere.”

“Okay,” Shou agrees immediately, sitting up in his seat, and he tries his best not so show how elated he is at Ritsu’s sudden, impulsive request. In the few days they’ve been together Ritsu has already proven himself to be thoughtful to a fault; he refuses to make even small decisions without thoroughly considering all of his options, so that fact that Ritsu has decided to do something without noticeable forethought sends a thrill of excitement through Shou. “Where should we go?” he asks, curious about what destination Ritsu has in mind.

Ritsu pushes himself to his sandal-clad feet, shaking his wings out and scattering a few dark feathers on the porch. “Someplace I used to go a lot. Get what you need, and we can go now.”

Shou doesn’t wait to be asked twice. He ducks into the house and grabs his tennis shoes, the ones in which he’d walked miles to get here, and slips them on over his sockless feet. Then, as somewhat of an afterthought, he snatches up his backpack from where he’d propped it up against the mostly-empty shelf by the bed he’d claimed and hefts it over one shoulder.

When he turns to head back out the front door, he spots Ritsu standing in front of one of his many bookshelves, holding a hand-bound book in his clawed hands. He runs the fingers of one hand over the cover of it, eyes downcast, and Shou is struck by the wistful, melancholic expression that crosses his face for just a moment before he slides the book into his own bag and settles the strap of it over his shoulder. A question perches on the tip of Shou’s tongue, a quiet curiosity that he has to hold himself back from voicing. There are plenty of things about himself that Ritsu’s hasn’t told him, and that’s okay with him. After all, Shou has plenty of things about himself that he hasn’t told Ritsu, either. It doesn’t keep his mind from wandering, though, wondering what those things could be.

They walk, because even though Ritsu says flying would be faster, he’s adamant that walking will be easier. Shou’s not sure whether or not Ritsu can support his weight and fly at the same time, anyway, and he doesn’t mind walking. The hardest part is scaling the hill behind the house, which is steep and a little slippery from the morning dew that still clings to it, and by the time they reach the crest of it both of them are just a little out of breath.

Shou’s breathlessness is partially due to something else, though, as Ritsu gestures with one feathered hand to the little valley nestled in the hills and Shou’s eyes land on what is quite possibly the most beautiful sight he’s seen since leaving his village all those days ago.

At the bottom of the hill is what appears to be a field of wildflowers, though most of them have wilted under the late summer sun’s glaring rays already. The few that are still standing are bright against the green of the rest of the valley, poking out of the tall grass so that their bright petals can be seen by all who pass by. Most notably, clumps of little sunflowers like the ones in Ritsu’s vase at his house can be seen cropping up all over the field, the bright sunlight only serving to make them look even more vibrant than before.

“Woah, this place is awesome!” Shou exclaims, face blooming into a broad grin. He finds himself reaching for Ritsu’s hand on instinct, fingers curling around his palm and pulling him down the hillside. The surprised yelp he lets out only serves to make Shou’s grin widen, but he’s conscious of the way Ritsu squeezes his hand back so he doesn’t lose his grip.

Shou doesn’t let go until the ground beneath their feet evens out again and he finds himself in one of the little sunflower patches. He drops Ritsu’s hand and flops unceremoniously down into the grass with a laugh, kicking his feet into the air in a burst of energy. The grass and dirt is rough against the exposed skin of his back, but he can’t bring himself to mind as he stares up at the great blue sky and the fluffy white clouds that occasionally cross it. The sun is warm, but not unbearably so, and its rays make everything around him look and feel so much brighter than he’s used to. He takes a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air, limbs flopping out all around him starfish-style, and lets himself be blessedly still for a few minutes.

Ritsu continues past him, black wings folded comfortably against his back as he drifts deeper into the field. Shou cranes his neck back and manages to catch glimpses of him through the tall grass as he walks, stopping periodically to bend over and touch the flowers that poke up through the grass. He looks peaceful, Shou notes, expression holding the closest thing to a smile Shou’s ever seen from him, but there’s a hint of bitterness behind it, too, that makes Shou’s own high spirits dip just a bit. He sits up, turning to give Ritsu a proper look, and watches as he sits down cross-legged in the grass not too far away and plucks a small but bright purple flower from the ground. He twists its stem between his fingers, quietly observing it, and Shou is suddenly and surprisingly reminded of the pencil sketch he’s stumbled upon during his first morning at Ritsu’s house.

Hit with a sudden urge, Shou quickly snatches up his backpack from where he’d discarded it at his side and opens it up, removing his sketchbook and a tin of pencils he’d brought with him from his home in his village. He shifts himself to sit cross-legged on the grass, flipping the book open to the nearest empty page.

He’s not sure if he can consider himself an artist, at least not by trade, but the scratch of his sketching pencil on paper is a familiar and comforting noise. Sketching has become somewhat of a hobby over the last few years, a way of relieving boredom or filling time when he has it. Sometimes he sketches memories, or tries to copy down the faces of people passing outside his window. This time, he finds his eyes drawn to Ritsu: to the not-quite-bittersweet expression on his face, to the little purple flower he twirls between clawed fingers, to the long grass that half-hides his legs and sways gently in the warm summer breeze. It’s like a painting, the kind of image that’s surreal enough that it shouldn’t be able to exist in the real world, and yet Shou sits, and stares at it, and has the undeniable urge to cement this moment for posterity in graphite.

His sketches are fast and rough at first as he focuses on copying down the base image and plotting out his canvas with light lines and geometric shapes. He roughs in the shape of Ritsu’s form sitting in the grass, cross-legged, one hand propping himself up in the grass while the other lightly grips the little bloom he’d claimed for himself. He sketches the curve of his shoulder and the arches of his wings, stretched out to accommodate their length while sitting, and attempts to capture the effortless messiness of his wild, untamed black hair. With softer, more deliberate strokes, he brings to life the line of Ritsu’s jaw and the slope of his nose, all soft edges and muted curves. There isn’t a sharp angle on him, and when he moves he does so with effortless grace and purpose that just serves to add to his ethereal beauty.

Shou would be hard-pressed to deny at this point that he does find Ritsu beautiful, and not just for his shimmering feathers or the way he seems to glow in a way only mythical creatures can. There are little things that bring this thought to mind, like his slender, careful fingers, or the annoyed little frown he gets whenever Shou tries to tease him. He’s never seen Ritsu really smile, but he imagines his smile must be beautiful, too. There’s no way it can’t be, coming from him.

He moves his pencil to capture the set of Ritsu’s mouth, but when he looks up to get another look, he finds that his companion has moved. He blinks, momentarily confused, until a distinct shadow falls over his sketchbook.

“What’re you doing over here? You look really intense,” Ritsu comments, leaning over Shou’s shoulder to get a look at what he’s working on. His expression quickly changes from confused to surprised when he recognizes the rough sketch, though. “Is that me?” he asks.

“You moved! Now it’s ruined,” Shou groans melodramatically. There’s no real anger or annoyance behind his words, though, and his sketch is mostly finished, anyway. “Don’t you know that the first rule of modeling is that you have to stay still? Otherwise the artist has to start over.” He tips his head back and offers Ritsu a smile, if only to reassure him that he’s really only joking.

Ritsu raises a brow at him, unimpressed, and turns his attention back to the rough sketch in Shou’s hands. “I didn’t know you were an artist,” he says, rather than trying to pick apart Shou’s attempted joke. “Why me, though?”

Shou shrugs, setting down his pencil for now and craning his neck back to look at Ritsu upside-down. “I just thought it would make for a good drawing,” he replies honestly. “I can leave it unfinished if you’re uncomfortable.”

Ritsu moves to sit at Shou’s side rather than leaning over him, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine, you can finish it,” he replies, and one of his hands drifts to the bag draped over one arm. He hesitates for just a moment before reaching inside and pulling out the hand-bound book Shou had seen him stow away earlier. He turns it over in his hands once, twice, then holds it out to Shou. “I guess you could say I’m a bit of an artist myself. I sketch in my journal sometimes, when I see something nice that I want to remember. You can look, if you want.”

“You’d let me read your journal? Hope you don’t have any deep, dark secrets in here you don’t want me to know about,” Shou quips, cracking open the book’s leather cover.

Ritsu snorts out what might be considered a laugh, tapping the first page with one long nail. “I wrote it in my mother’s language, you won’t be able to read it anyway,” he points out, quirking a brow in an amused manner. He drags a finger to the top of the page. “This is my handwriting, and this,” he adds, running his finger down the page to where the shape of the unfamiliar words changes just a bit, “is my brother’s handwriting. We used to take turns writing little passages in these books.”

The implied “before he left” hangs in the air between them, unspoken but felt and understood all the same. Shou nods, noting the way Ritsu’s neat, even script contrasts with his brother’s more messy, sloped style. He flips through a few pages of indecipherable writing before he reaches the first aforementioned drawing, a sketch of a new garden filled with tiny green sprouts. Each row of plants is meticulously labeled with a little sign written in that same language, unreadable to Shou, but it’s an impressive sketch all the same.

Most of the sketches in the book of are a similar calibre, still life drawings or landscape sketches of places Shou has yet to see. “You’re really talented,” he tells Ritsu after flipping through a few of them. In between the sketches, Ritsu and his brother’s alternating handwriting take up most of the extra space.

“I’ve been drawing since I was a kid,” Ritsu replies, reaching over Shou’s arm to flip the pages of the journal of his own accord until he reaches one in particular. His hand lingers on the page before he sits back and lets Shou look at it himself, pale yellow eyes trained on his expression from beside him.

Shou blinks in recognition when he lays eyes on the sketch Ritsu’s chosen to share with him. It’s different from the rest, far more detailed, and it takes up an entire page of the little journal. The only writing on it is a few letters written in the corner with Ritsu’s neat handwriting: some sort of caption, Shou guesses. A name, or maybe a date.

The sketch is of another boy, one that Shou recognizes, because he has the same face as the boy from the sketch he’d seen in Ritsu’s other book just a few days ago. He looks like he can’t be more than a few years older than Ritsu is, his face carrying the same soft, childlike curves that Ritsu’s does. On his face is a small, tentative smile, shy, like he’d modeled for this but could never get quite comfortable enough to make the emotion come across natural. Faintly, Shou can make out laugh lines around the corners of his eyes, and dimples at the edges of his mouth where his smile shows his teeth. Like the other sketch, his hair is cut bluntly all the way around his head, leaving straight bangs that fall nearly into his eyes. There’s something undeniably endearing about the sketch, as though it’d been drawn with a great deal of affection. “Is this him?” Shou asks. He doesn’t need to clarify who he’s talking about.

Ritsu nods. “His name was Shigeo - is Shigeo, I mean,” he says, catching himself as he begins to refer to his brother in the past tense. “He’s about a year and a half older than me, though he never could really keep up with me, growing up. Where I was quick to pick up concepts and new skills, he always took just a little longer. My parents worried about him a lot.” As he speaks, his eyes flick down to the sketch in the journal, something undeniably sad in the way he speaks.

Shou swallows, watching Ritsu’s face as he speaks. “Where did they go?” he asks. Surely they couldn’t have abandoned him?

“My parents passed away a few years ago,” Ritsu says, letting his hand fall away from the book. He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, hugging them close to his body. “They were hunted by humans who were scared of them and their magic. They would have killed me, too, but Shige protected me.”

“You care a lot about him,” Shou murmurs, “and he cared a lot about you, so what changed?” After all, Shigeo isn’t here anymore. His bed and shelf are empty and there are no traces of him in the little house that used to belong to both of them, but at one point he’d been as active and present as Ritsu is now.

Ritsu’s expression darkens, and he leans forward to rest his chin atop his bent knees. A frown tugs at his mouth, and his gaze is distant. “He fell in love with a human,” he replies, the words barely travelling over the gentle noise of the wind, and Shou catches the way his voice wavers in an attempt to keep his emotions from coming through. “I didn’t like him. I tried to tell Shige that it was bad idea to get involved with humans, that he’d only get hurt in the long run, but he wouldn’t listen. Growing up, we always got along well, to the point where we only had a few silly little fights as brothers, but this was different. Neither of us was willing to change our mind.” His wings shift slightly against his back, drawing in around his shoulders as though to protect himself. “I said terrible things to him, about how I didn’t want to be his brother if he was going to choose a human over me. I told him that if he was going to make such a terrible decision, he might as well just leave. I didn’t think he’d take me seriously, at the time.”

Shou stares down at the sketch of Shigeo laying open in his lap and tries to imagine him standing beside a younger version of Ritsu, one with wide, dark eyes and arms that are a little shorter and chubbier than the ones he knows. He can easily picture a loving and dedicated siblings relationship between them, the kind Shou has never experienced himself but that he’s seen countless times in the children from his village, can easily wrap his mind around a protective Shigeo eager to please his genius little brother. It makes his heart ache to imagine what such a bad fight between the two of them must have felt like. It’s a vulnerable memory, the one that Ritsu has chosen to impart to him. “Why are you telling me all this?” he asks after a moment, folding the journal shut and holding it tightly with both hands. “Why save me, why let me hang around you for so long, why tell me about your family? I thought you hated humans.”

“I do hate them,” Ritsu says immediately, squeezing his knees closer to his chest, and his gaze hardens with regret and anger and loss. “They took my parents, they took my brother.” He pauses to take a breath, shaky and tense, and buries his face in his arms so that Shou can no longer see his face. “I hate them… but I don’t hate you.”

Shou forgets to breathe for a moment, stunned speechless. He’d known, of course, that Ritsu can’t possibly hate him, but it’s still shocking to have it laid out so plainly. Shou had never considered that he might be the exception to the rule, the lone redeemable human that Ritsu has chosen to place his bets on. That if he had been someone else, Ritsu might not have deigned it necessary to try to save his life. “But why me?” he repeats, desperate to know what part of himself was the part that Ritsu had seen and decided was worthy of saving. “Why am I different from everyone else who tried to cross that forest and never made it to the other side?”

Ritsu lets out a long breath into his arms before he raises his head once more. He still can’t look Shou in the eye, though, and he stares stubbornly at the patches of bright flowers instead. “Did you ever realize why the forest seemed so endless and impossible to navigate?” he asks. “It’s because it’s guarded by a magical trap. My brother and I laid it when our parents were killed, to keep humans from ever finding this place again. Anyone who walks into the forest is cursed to wander it until they die from starvation or are killed by wild animals.”

Shou hums, remembering the way his map had become all but useless once he’d walked deep enough into the forest. Without magic of his own, it would have been impossible to sense a trap laying in wait for him. “So that’s why I could never find the end, even after five days of walking,” he murmurs.

Ritsu nods. “Well, we both helped to lay down the spell, but Shigeo was always far stronger than I was when it came to magic. His powers are deeply rooted in people’s emotions, including his own, and it made it difficult for him to control them,” he continues, picking at the purple flower still pinched between his fingers. He tears a petal from it and lets it fall into the grass, nervous. “His powers created a link between the two of us and the emotions of those who would enter the forest. We could feel their anger and their killing intent, but we could also feel the fear they felt in their final moments, their regret and desire to keep living. I tried to ignore it, but Shigeo never could. He never admitted it out loud, but I could tell it tortured him inside, even as the people walking into the forest become fewer and far between. I think that his connection to the trap is part of what led him to start caring for the humans.” He pauses, lowering his gaze, and adds, “Empathy is a powerful thing.”

“So, you knew I was in the forest the whole time?” Shou clarifies, leaning forward and looking up into Ritsu’s face.

By this point, Ritsu’s plucked the flower bare, nothing but its brown middle left attached to the stem until Ritsu pinches that part off, too. “Yes,” he replies. There isn’t an ounce of regret in his voice, but after hearing his story, Shou can’t find it in himself to be annoyed by it. Ritsu continues, “As soon as you entered the forest, I knew you were there, but you seemed… different from the others. You weren’t scared, and you weren’t angry. You weren’t lost, either, like the children would that sometimes wander into the forest without knowing where they were. There was something driving you, I could tell, but it wasn’t a desire for revenge or self-preservation like the hunters that used to come after my brother and me.” He drops the flower’s browning stem, lets it be swallowed up by the tall grass around him. “I saved you because I could tell you didn’t come to hurt me, and because part of me was curious to see if a human really did exist who could look at me without fear or anger. I thought that maybe then, I could start to understand the feelings that would make my brother want to leave me behind.”

Shou swallows, glancing down at his legs, splayed out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. It hasn’t occurred to him until now just how insanely lucky he is to be alive right now, now fortunate it is that Ritsu had decided to let him be the one to change his mind about humanity. “Do you think you understand any better, now?” he asks, voice soft and curious.

Ritsu squeezes his legs impossibly tighter against his chest. “Yeah, I think I do,” he admits, but when Shou chances another glance at him, he doesn’t find peace or closure in Ritsu’s gaze like he might expect. Instead, Ritsu just slumps with regret. His dark eyes are clouded with grief, as though this discovery has condemned something within him. “I do, and that’s the scary part.”

---

Neither of them speaks on the way back to Ritsu’s house. The sun is beginning to set behind the horizon by the time they make it back, and Shou’s stomach is grumbling. He grabs an apple from the fruit bowl to graze on while Ritsu sweeps the feathers and early fall leaves from off the deck, and he tries not to think too hard about the implications of the day’s revelations. He plops down on the edge of the bed that used to be Shigeo’s, a person who Shou now has a name and a face to attach to it. A person who still has a place in this house, should he ever come back to reclaim it. It’s not a place that Shou can keep for himself much longer, and he knows it. Guess I have to go home sometime, huh? he thinks to himself, and the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Ritsu comes inside and closes the door behind him, leaning the broom up in the corner by the coat rack. He moves quietly over to his shelf to change into his night clothes while Shou lays on the soft mattress, and when he’s ready to climb into bed himself, he turns to face him. “Shou,” he says, hesitantly, fiddling with the fingers on one of his hands. “I want you to know, I’m… I’m really glad I met you.”

Shou sits up in the bed, eyebrows raised in quiet surprise, but his reply is caught in his throat when he sees the small but undeniable smile on Ritsu’s face. It’s shaky, like he’s fighting the urge to stifle it the way he has so many times already, but it’s still there. It’s slightly crooked and, Shou notices, entirely humanesque, holding the same blunted incisors and sharp canines his own mouth carries. The sight of this little smile, simultaneously remarkable and unremarkable, is enough to send Shou’s heart somersaulting in his chest, the words on his tongue dying before they have the chance to see daylight.

It’s irrevocably beautiful, to Shou.

“I-I’m glad I met you, too,” he finally stammers, once he’s managed to get a grip on his thoughts long enough to form a coherent sentence, though he can’t quite suppress the awe-struck stutter that accompanies his words. “You’re a good friend, Ritsu. I’m really grateful that you decided to save me, that day.”

Ritsu doesn’t say anything in return, just flashes him another little smile and, oh, Shou could definitely get used to seeing that. Then he blows out the candle keeping the room dimly lit and plunges it into darkness, crawling into his own bed for the night.

---

Shou decides the following morning that it’s past time he returns to his village. He has a house and a job waiting for him at home, after all, or at least he hopes he still does, and while he doesn’t have any really close friends, his neighbors are bound to be wondering where he’s gone off to by now. He tells Ritsu as much as he packs up his sketchbook and his pencils and prepares to start the walk back home.

He pretends not to notice the way Ritsu stifles his disappointment under a layer of practiced calm. “Are you sure? If you need an extra day, it really wouldn’t be that big of a deal,” he offers, but Shou just shakes his head and offers Ritsu a bittersweet smile.

“No, I can’t do that. This was never meant to be permanent, anyway, I’ve just been borrowing your extra space from your brother. He’ll need it once he decides to come home,” he replies, gesturing to the empty bed and shelf nestled into the back corner of the house. “Although, it may be a good idea to invest in, like, a bedroll or something, in case he decides to bring his boyfriend with him.”

The suggestion makes Ritsu screw up his face in unhidden disgust, drawing a loud laugh out of Shou’s mouth at the sight of it. Ritsu rolls his eyes, long-suffering. “Yeah, alright,” he sighs, and follows Shou to the door to he can give him a proper send-off.

“You’re sure I won’t get lost again in there?” Shou asks, pointing to the magically trapped forest that lays sprawling in front of him. “I just walk straight, and I’ll make it home?”

Ritsu snorts, raising an incredulous brow at him. “Of course, I know what I’m doing,” he assures. “My brother may have been the one strong enough to lay the trap in the first place, but the illusion on it is all from me. I can manipulate it in any way I want. I won’t take you more than an hour or two to make it back without the trap getting in your way.”

Shou nods, taking comfort in Ritsu’s confidence as the two of them stand side-by-side facing the woods. “Well then, I guess this is goodbye,” he says, and tries not to let show the way the words make his heart fall and his throat feel just a little tighter.

Ritsu shakes his head, laying a hand on Shou’s shoulder. “It’s not ‘goodbye’, it’s ‘see you later’,” he corrects, and lets slip one of those small, kind smiles. “I don’t expect you’ll be able to resist coming back anyway, even if I tried to stop you, so I may as well give you permission to come visit before you end up lost in the forest again.” He plays it off in a casual manner, but the way his neck flushes just slightly pinker than usual gives away his true intentions.

Shou doesn’t bother to fight the grin that comes to his face at this, and before he can think better of it he pulls Ritsu in for a quick, tight hug. He catches the little squeak of surprise Ritsu makes in response to it, but his friend doesn’t pull away, lifting his arms to tentatively return the brief embrace. One of Shou’s hands finds its way into the downy feathers between Ritsu’s shoulders, soft as cotton between his fingers, while Ritsu’s splay against his back and squeeze him once, gently.

“Come back soon,” Ritsu mumbles against Shou’s shoulder before he pulls away, letting his hands linger for just a moment before he lets them drop back to his sides.

“Count on it,” Shou replies with a bright grin, offering Ritsu one last clap on the shoulder before he turns and begins to walk toward the forest. “I’ll see you later,” he adds over his shoulder, raising a hand in an energetic wave as he reaches the edge of the trees. He watches just long enough to see Ritsu return his wave before he turns and disappears into the forest, homeward bound.

---

When he would reach his lonely little house just under two hours later, his neighbors would greet him with worried words and frightened expressions, and when he would tell them where he’d gone and why, they would ask him if he’d found anything worthwhile after so many days away from home.

“No,” he would say, with a helpless little smile. “Nothing at all.”

[ravens-rambling]

“Prove it”

A/N: I’ve actually had this written up a while ago but kept forgetting to edit it out but I finally got some spare time today and decided to get this done! You have no idea how much fun this au is to write its ridiculous. BUT in any case here’s our adorable pappy and lo-lo meeting our slightly ambitious but adorable all the same princey!! 

I’m thinking of writing how they met Virgil and then Thomas after that? And I already know how Deceit’s gonna play into all of this and I really want to write their backstories cause yes I thought that far ahead this Au isn’t destroying my life nah what are you talking about!!!!!!

Here you go anon!! I hope you like it! And I’m having a good night thank you! Love you too sweetie!! Hope you're having a good day/night as well!! 

Prompt 33- “Prove it” from dialogue prompts which is still open!!! 

Based off of this post from @yourhappypappypatton

summary: All Logan wants to be is loved, for all his life he’s experienced hatred and fear for what he is. Luckily fate has changed for him as he met a certain vampire a few years back. But during one winters night, he met a unexpected and rather loud creature that sent certain feelings through him. Does this boy harbor same feelings towards him or does he run away like all previous humans before him? Only time will tell...

WC: 4,352

ships: Romantic Logince, Platonic Logicality 

warnings: Blood, Body horror, mentions of bone, feelings of fear, pinned down, uuhhhh i think thats it??

Tag List: @punsterterry @frostedlover (Since you two wanted to be tagged in this au!) @fandydandyfanders  @221b-quote

It was a late winters night when the two monster family members became three.

The wind was howling against the tall leafless trees beating against the walls surrounding him. The snow was piling as he tried to walk through it with some luck. His cape battered and thrashed against the wind and snow but still, he continued on. He might have had a major breakthrough in his current experiment and he wasn't going to let any snow stop him, it wasn't like it could affect him or anything anyways.

Though at the thought of a certain vampire being upset with him made him gulp.

When Patton gets angry it's not pretty that's for sure. And he always hated it when Logan leaves in the middle of the night without telling him.

But he couldn't wait for him to come home! He had to get to his library now! Course he could..whats the word.. 'call' him on his...'phone'? Was he right on that? He wasn't sure. The curses thing won't start up for him. He wasn't sure what buttons to hit or even what to do. Patton had shown him how to turn it on and how to work it but it was awkward and honestly, he had more important things to concentrate and remember then how to work the blasted thing. He's busy with more pressing matters then that at the moment. So instead he left it at home and would face with the consequences later on.

Maybe he could even get back home, (when did he start calling it that?) more like Patton's place, in time before Patton gets back? And nobody would be the wiser.

A prick of irritation was in his mind as he recalled how overprotective Patton can be. It was strange to him having somebody around after over 200 years of solitude.

But at the same time..nice?

Sure Patton can be overbearing and overwhelming at times in his niceness and cheeriness but..he was the only person who didn't run away at seeing him those few years ago. Every single human he came across, even the supernatural ones, always ran away from him with terror in their eyes shouting at him on how much he's a freak and should be burned. Course he learned, later on, thanks to Patton, that he appeared more scary and frightening cause of his rotting flesh. With help from Patton he learned that he could replace those limbs and according to the vampire he looked less scary, more like a human, which made Logan smile at the time. But back then he didn't know that, he didn't even think about that, and the words of those horrified strangers hurt him so much so that he locked himself away to his books and experiments for centuries. 

But Patton? He didn't even flinch at his sight. He only smiled when he first saw him. Even gave him a hug! The first physical contact he's ever had if he had to be honest. It was..nice.

It was nice having him he soon came to realize.

It was nice having somebody to talk to.

Now he came to realize why some of his books on the mental state of mind said to interact with people cause now he seemed happier, or at least Patton says that he acts happier even if he himself can't really tell the difference since he's never really been happy.

But putting all that aside he took a deep breath as he arrived at his library feeling the certain familiarness draft over him causing his small smile to grow wider. Being in his library sent a certain peace to him that no other place has. Though at the same time a dread.

In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think if maybe Patton was some dream that his brain played on him. Maybe when he gets back to his place he won't know who he was. He would scream and throw things at him, just like those people. And he would be forced to go back to his lonely life once again. That this place would be his prison once again.

No.. He can't give in to his negative thoughts. He's just being illogical now and there is no time for that, the back of his mind told him. No Patton would be there as always to greet him with a hug or at the very least a smile. He won't be alone again.

As he walked through the large door though he stopped in his tracks there was something in the shadows, he could feel it. And as he lowered his breath to the bare minimum he could hear something breathing. It was a heavy almost gasping for breath. At first, he thought it was a bear, he's come across those from time to time around or even in his place, it won't be the first time.

But as he listened closely he could hear that it sounded almost..human like but at the same time wolf-like? He stalked forward keeping close to the walls and making as little to no noise as possible to not spook the creature.

As he got closer to the breathing he could make out a solid form in the darkness. It wasn't a wolf that's for sure.

It stood on two legs and it looked almost human-like. But there was something about the way that it was breathing that really did make it seem wolf-like. Whatever the case he had to get it out of his library his books and experiments is at risk if he lets it run rabit.

If it was a human maybe he could scare it off like all the other humans he met. With that in mind, he got closer to it before stopping.

He smelled...was that blood? He hasn't smelled a lot of blood over the years so he must have forgotten what it smelled like but he was certain of that irony tang that it was blood. Maybe the human was hurt? Whatever that didn't concern him.

"Whoever you are leave before I make you." His voice was rugged, even after befriending Patton after years upon years of not using his voice he knew his voice would always sound like that.

The creature harshly turned around his beady eyes glowing through the darkness. Logan gulped, this wasn't any normal human that was for sure. Those eyes were..animalistic.

A sudden feeling spiked through him, a feeling he didn't understand before suddenly he felt his back hit the solid ground harshly. His breath got knocked out of his new lungs as he tried to pull the creature away from him. Now that it was closer he could see its large fangs, could see the fur covering its body, and could see that its face was wolf-like even to the pointy ears. And finally, it's large claws was holding him down and digging into his flesh.

Thankfully he couldn't feel it for if he did he knew he would be crying out in pain by now.

Normally he won't have any emotions, or it would be a prick of emotion here and there, but right here and now he felt..fear. That's what it was. True fear for the first time of his life. Not just normal fear either, fear that he was going to die.

He wasn't scared of death. How could he? Being an immortal being that was created by body parts with really only one weakness, his heart, he didn't think much about death.

But underneath this creature, he truly thought he was going to die. He was terrified that the last thing he was going to see was the fangs of this creature as it rips his chest open and digs into his beating heart.

No, he had something to live for. He had Patton and though it had recently occurred to him, he truly did care for him even if he doesn't show it. He thought of him as a great friend, one that he would put his life in the line for.

With a burst of strength, he didn't know he processed he pushed the large creature off of him and before the furry creature could stand up he started to run to his experiments. He knew he had something that could work against it right? He had to.

But just as he was about to run down the hallway he heard a creak of a door opening and a voice, a very familiar voice.

"Lo! I told you to tell me when you come to your library! You gave me a heart attack when I came home and you weren't there! And you must have come out here in the snow my gosh what-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as the creature lunged at Patton.

As Logan turned around he saw claws and fangs digging into Patton's precious flesh. He heard Patton's screams as he tried to wiggle away, as he tried to fight back. Something in him snapped as he saw Patton's precious blood go flying through the air.

But before he could even move his body the vampire let out a loud, rumbling, scream that seemed to shake the very ground beneath him that caused Logan to freeze in place and he could have sworn the creature as well.

Before either one of them could react Patton gripped the creature so tightly that his knuckles were white and with one throw he threw the creature against the far wall right next to Logan. He expected the creature to stand back up but as he glanced over his eyes wide with horror and fear he saw that the creature didn't stand up again. Rather he hit the wall so hard that there was a large crack going towards the ceiling.

And Logan had only a moment's warning before the ceiling collapsed on the creature, luckily getting out of the way just in time. There was no way the creature could have survived that..right?

His wide eyes whipped towards Patton who was now breathing heavily and getting to his feet. There was blood dripping from his arms and torso but that didn't cause Logan alarm. What did was the fact that Patton's eyes were glowing red. Something he's never seen before and he could have sworn that even in pure darkness he could see that red piercing through. And what made Logan even more scared was the pure murderous glare that was nestled in those red eyes.

He was honestly scared now of Patton.

Gulping he mumbled quietly, "P-Pat?" He winced as his fearful voice echoed through the large room.

Patton turned towards him still breathing heavily though at seeing Logan's terrified gaze his own eyes went wide.

Realization dawned on the vampire as he slowly calmed down taking deep breaths. Those red eyes went back to his normal blue ones with the more breaths he took. That murderous gaze quickly went away replaced by his normal cheeriness. Soon he looked like his normal happy Patton giving him a wide smile as he hopped towards him as if nothing happened.

"Well, now that was certainly something Huh! I am bone tired now I don't know about you!"

Logan was...dumbfounded. Patton had that much strength hiding in the happy facade he always had up. Were vampires normally this powerful? He never got to know.

He still was scared of Patton if he had to be honest and took a step away from him as he came to his side which earned a heartbreaking look from the other.

"Lo? You're okay?"

"I...um..y-yeah... I just um..let me go check on my experiments...Make sure it doesn't wake up alright?"

Patton gave a slow nod as he tried to not run away. He had to scramble away some of the rocks in his path but luckily it didn't take long before he was in his room. Luckily nothing happened in this room, he didn't care about the entrance anyways. As soon as he saw that he drew a shaky breath and collapsed to his chair.

That was...terrifying. That was the most emotions he has felt in..ever actually.

And in those emotions was now fear of his only friend. He didn't know Patton could do that. But why was he scared? It was Patton for Pete sake! Patton who was always cheerful and was never scared of him so why should he be scared of him. There was no reason to be. Sure he posses some..scary qualities but he does as well. They were supernatural beings there is going to be scary parts to them but that doesn't rule them out as automatically terrifying and scary as he should know out of anyone.

Those thoughts rattled around in his brain as he tried to take shaky breaths to calm down.

Finally, he stood up bottling up all those pesky emotions one by one and started heading back. The creature should be dealt with properly before it wakes up. This is no time for emotions he could go through them later if he has to.

But as he entered the large room once again he did a double take. The large rocks were now pulled away from the creature exposing that the creature was..now a human? He didn't have any fur or well clothes for that matter now.

He turned towards Patton who had a mix of uncharastically disgust and relief.

Logan hesitantly unclipped his cloak and slowly went over to drape it over the unconscious boy's body noticing the now bloodied leg the wound looked weird he had to say. It looked almost like a pitchfork went through it but it was just a singular wound. He wondered what happened to this stranger. But he didn't want to touch it in fear of him waking up. Instead, he went over to Patton's side who was sitting down on the floor still glaring at the boy.

"Do you know this creature?" He noticed even his voice is a bit too stiff.

Patton glanced over to him his expression softening for a moment before breathing out a heavy sigh, "Yeah... He's a werewolf."

"A werewolf? I've read of those before but I thought it was folklore something to scare innocence."

Patton smile a bit, "Well most would say that about vampires and Frankestines monster right?"

"I..suppose so."

Silence engulfed the two Logan wasn't sure what to say now to bring back the normal Patton as he was uncharastically silent and still glaring at the boy. Questions were zooming through his mind but he wasn't sure if he should ask them in fear of upsetting Patton even further. He maybe should ask him them later once he fully calms down. But he knew he had to do something, this was becoming unbearable, to break the said silence he leaned forward and pointed at his wounds.

"Your bleeding. Are you going to be okay?"

Patton breathed out a small part of his normal smile returning, "Oh yeah I will be I'll just need more blood soon..unfortunately..." He glanced over to Logan finally before gasping and drawing closer, "Lo! Your bleeding too! And you just got a new torso... Will you be alright?" It was like he just noticed it...

"Oh yes, I don't need blood to function remember? I will need to get a new torso soon though losing this much blood won't be good for it. And new arms... It'll start to stink soon."

Patton giggled slightly, "We don't want that now. I'm glad your alright though Lo. I was scared that it hurt you."

The edge of Logan's mouth twitched upwards, "I'm glad your alright too. I've come to realize, as it was holding you down, that um... I do like your company, Patton. It is rather nice and I would be...sad if you were to disappear. Or sorry..die?"

"Aaawwww!" Patton had stars in his eyes as he looked up at him drawing his hands close to his chin. "Lo! That's the nicest thing you've said to me! Your my hero you know that?"

Before Logan could even open his mouth Patton surged forward and gave him a hug sucking the breath from him. Always, every single time Patton gives him a hug, he always freezes unsure how to handle it or how hugs worked.

As he was still processing it a cough came from the shattered wall. Instantly a low growl came from Patton as he drew forward he seemed ready to attack the creature again. But as the boy lifted his head another cough came from him as he turned around so he wasn't on his stomach. He brought a hand to his must be sore head as he blinked around him.

A beat of silence before another cough as he looked down on himself to see the cloak draped over him and sighed. When he looked up to Patton and Logan he looked...frightened, almost like a little kid lost from his parents. It sent a certain sadness through him to see that expression on the young boy's face. And when he saw the blood that was coming from both of them his eyes instantly went wide with terror.

"Oh, gods I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean... Shit... I thought nobody would be out here... Are..are you two okay?" He honestly sounded terrified, not because of them two but because..of himself. He recognized that look, that feeling of being scared of himself, of being unsure what he is capable of. And it sounded out of character from him, even Logan could tell.

But as those eyes looked to him he could have sworn his heart missed a beat. Even though his hair was everywhere and with bits of rocks and rubble in them and dirt and even some bits of blood stuck to his bare body. Every bit of him shouldn't have been appealing but to Logan...he wasn't sure how to put it. He even felt a slight heat rush to his cheeks and ears. But he shook his head, he wasn't sure what these emotions or whatever they are, this was no time for that.

Instead, he stood up and placed a gentle hand on Patton who looked conflicted at the moment. "What's your name?"

"R-Roman..."

"Roman... What a strange name. Well, in any case, this is Patton, who's a vampire. And I'm Logan, I guess you could say I'm similarly to Frankestines monster. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Though well I hoped we would have met under different circumstances but here we are. And yes we are fine you didn't damage us so we can't function if that's what you mean. And I suppose most people think my home is abandoned or at least haunted so I've heard so that wasn't your fault. Are you okay? I saw you were bleeding from a strange wound there."

That seemed to shake Patton out of his trace he was in as he smiled brightly going forward to help Roman up and to tie the cloak around him and to help his bleeding leg setting him up on some rocks and dressing it quickly. Though Logan noticed there was something off about his smile, and even his movements were jerky. And he didn't think it was the fact that he lost a lot of blood.

As Roman stood up leaning on one of the boulders he looked to both of them again before tilting his head, almost like a dog. "Wait... Repeat that?"

Logan couldn't stop himself from taking a sigh of irritation. Thankfully Patton repeated what he said which seemed to click in Roman's head.

Though he didn't expect Roman to suddenly laugh so loudly it echoed through his library. He pointed to Logan, "Wait you mean to tell me your Frankestines monster! You must be joking! A vampire I get, I've heard of you guys before and to be wary of you. But Frankestines monster? Are you sure your not this vampires plaything and he just twisted your mind to think your that weird monster?"

Logan simply blinked for a few seconds at this weird reaction. He seemed completely out of his mind. Do vampires normally do that?

When he looked to Patton he seemed to be holding in anger just barely but he shook his head, "No, kiddo most vampires don't have...play things I can assure you. No, he really is Frankestines monster, well very similarly at least."

Roman laughed again shaking his head, "I highly doubt that!"

This flamboyant boy was getting on his nerves, for the second time today he couldn't control his emotions. This boy hurt both of them and he thinks he will just stand around and take this? Sure he was almost happy that he didn't run away but he obviously couldn't tell what he was, his limbs was new after all and he was okay at stitching them together so he properly did look like a normal human. Though his job was poorly as he just recently discovered he could do that but that's beside the point, and in any case, Patton told him he looked human enough so that was enough for him.

But still, now he was upsetting Patton again and he won't let that stand. So he took a deep breath and crossed his arms, "I am Frankestines monster or well kinda! You're a werewolf it's not that hard to believe!"

Roman smirked and raised up an eyebrow, "Alright smart guy. Prove it."

That made Logan chuckle as he gripped one of his arms. He was going to regret this later when he has to redo the precious stitching that caused him hours to do but to prove to this boy that he was right? He'll do that any day. He already had to replace them anyways soon or later might as well put them to good use.

Patton moved towards him with slight concern, "No Lo don't it's fine if he doesn't believe you. Don't worry about it."

But Logan didn't respond. Gripping his arm tighter he pulled roughly and he heard a snap of his stitches and a moment later he was holding his arm with his other hand. There was lots of dried blood dripping from that arm as well as a bone sticking out but he didn't feel a thing.

The color drained from Roman's face as he looked on in horror. For once Logan smirked at the sight drawing closer to the frozen boy, "Don't be so snarky next time. And this-"

He smacked Roman across the face harshly with his detached arm, "Was for hurting Patton."

Romans eyes were still on him, on his arm, as he was knocked backward stumbling over his injured leg.

Patton rushed forward to catch him, "Lo! You didn't have to do that! I don't think he knew what he was doing when he was like that!"

Logan blinked at him then shrugged, "Well then that's for being snarky. You're happy now? Now if you excuse me I have to reattach my arm and get this stitched up and look for new body parts. I don't know what you want to do with him Pat but it doesn't concern me much."

As he turned towards the hallway once again he heard the boy finally speak up and it was a whisper as if he was afraid to speak loudly, or that he couldn't.

"W-What...is that...? It's...a freak.."

That word... Freak...he was fine with being called an 'it'. That didn't concern him. But freak... That sent a wave of hurt crashing through his heart and body. His grip on his arm tightened so hard he knew his nails were digging into it by this point as he drew in a shaky breath. He could feel eyes on him, he wasn't sure who it belonged to but he didn't care. He had to get away now before his emotions ran wild even more then it has already or he would start crying.

Sure that word hurt him but it never sent him like this before. Maybe it was that it came from that boy that sent his heart beating faster? He wasn't sure but now he felt...heartbroken he think is the term.

"No, he isn't. He's just like you and me. Now here let's go to my place to fix you up how does that sound?"

A hint of fear went through him as he thought about the boy changing back to that creature and attack Patton but if he was correct they only changed at the full moon correct? Logan could see the faint traces of the sun through his windows and the damaged ceiling so at least he won't have to worry about that.

Even so, Logan wasn't sure that was such a great idea since he seemed to not like this werewolf but he knew it was his best option. After all, it wasn't safe for humans around his place and he couldn't go free now knowing about him and Patton now.

He thought of all things that maybe a werewolf would understand him... He thought wrong he supposes.

As he turned the hallway he sneaked one last glance over his shoulder to see with a heartbreaking glance towards Roman and Patton. His vision grew blurry as he thought none of them saw him.

But he was wrong in thinking that as Patton stole a glance over his shoulder as he closed the huge door seeing that tearful gaze and sighed deeply.

He hoped he could comfort his friend but he had to keep this werewolf busy for as long as he can.

And with that, he shut the door behind him with a loud bang. As he turned around he plastered on a smile to his face as he tried to keep up with Roman's questions as best he could trying to ignore his heavy heart and the sense of dread and fear that crept up his spine at remembering what those all familiar claws has done to him in the past.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

And The AWRD Goes To... (Part 42)

5:00 AM, Weiss was up, shortly before a nurse quietly arrived in their room with her daily dose of medication.

“Do you need anything else, Ms. Schnee?” he asked after she took it. “A snack before breakfast is served?”

“I’m good,” Weiss said, gesturing to the giant bag still waiting on the side from last night.

The nurse nodded. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked.

“Would you happen to have a magical elixir that’ll get us all out of the hospital immediately?” Weiss asked with a serious face. “If there’s not enough for four full doses, we’ll just take repairing most of Diana’s bones, with the rest to spare for Ruby, Akko, and myself, in that order.”

“My apologies: we don’t have any miraculous panaceas in stock that I’m aware of,” the nurse replied with an expression just as sober. “Though, I do hear that if you go to the shrine room late at night after 10PM, you can find a little demon in the corner; I hear they offer contracts with very reasonable terms, though you should still likely bring a lawyer with you, just in case.”

“We don’t want to get better that badly, but the information is appreciated for any possible future desires for dealings of the otherworldy variety, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Schnee,” the nurse said, smiling. “Anything else?”

“Nope, you can go now,” Weiss said, smiling back.

The nurse bowed. “Excuse me, I will take my leave now,” he said, before he slipped out as quietly as he’d entered.

Weiss looked around as he did: Diana, Ruby, and Akko were still asleep, and likely would be for a while; the sun wasn’t yet up and it’d likely be freezing cold outside if she tried to take a walk, with or without the cold weather clothing fetched from her dorm; and she didn’t feel much like watching anime by herself with headphones on.

She sighed, and pulled out her scroll, ignored since yesterday afternoon. Her eyes widened as she saw two priority 1 items on her notifications:

11:47 PM yesterday, from Whitley: “Been in the guest room since I left the hospital, mom hasn’t come back yet. I’m going to bed now.”

Just a minute ago, also from Whitley: “Mom still isn’t back. No messages, no recent activity on her decantr, nothing from the Lodge. Anything on your end...?”

Weiss unlocked her scroll, went through the rest of her priority categories, forced herself to stop by the time she came to P3. She went into her messages, looking through all of her message histories with her family, trying to find if someone, anyone, had mentioned Snowie’s plans for last night, and it just happened to get buried for whatever reason, a glitch, a sleepy night time dismissal, a message sent from someone else’s scroll...

“Weiss…?”

Weiss blinked and looked up, found Ruby awake and looking at her in concern. “Ruby…?” Weiss whispered. “Did you need something…?”

“Are you okay?” Ruby whispered back. “You look worried.”

“I’m fi--” Weiss stopped herself, and climbed out of her bed, carefully stepping across the room before she sat down next to Ruby, her scroll in hand. “… Actually, no, I’m not fine...” she muttered.

“Want to talk about it?” Ruby asked.

Weiss sighed, and looked at her scroll again. “Mom hasn’t come back to the guest house since last night; Whitley messaged me, and neither of us have heard anything from her, not even activity on her decantr, so she was off her scroll the entire time.

“Winter’s already left for Hestia, Whitley was back in their room since he left, and—“ she stopped. “Wait, your dad was with her, right? Do you think she could have been with him?”

“Uh, probably?” Ruby asked. “Dad is really friendly, especially when it comes to other hunters.”

Weiss looked at Ruby’s scroll, left laying on her end table since last night. “Can we check your scroll?” she asked.

“Sure, go ahead!” Ruby said, telling Weiss the passcode as she grabbed it.

Weiss opened it, and cried out.

“What? What is it?!” Ruby whispered.

“Your notifications bar!” Weiss cried as she held up her scroll, the top overloaded with symbols. “Do you just subscribe to everything?!”

Ruby tried to shrug. “I have a lot of things to keep track of!”

Weiss sighed as she navigated to her messages. “We’re getting you a priority sorting system… actually, make that you and Diana both, so we can sync up with mine and Akko’s...” she checked her message history with Taiyang, sighed as she read the latest. “Oh, good, she was staying at your place last night… aww, he even took a selfie with her and your dog! Oh, he’s so cute...!”

“His name’s Zwei!” Ruby said, smiling. “We could totally come by my house one of these days and meet him, it wouldn’t even take more than an afternoon.”

“I’d love that...” Weiss said as she scrolled past the picture. “I was never allowed to own pets… wait, was is this…?” she said, quietly reading for a few moments.

“What?” Ruby asked. “What is it now?”

“… Ah, apparently your dad has invited my mom to come consult at the Bunker one of these days...”

“Oh, that’s great!” Ruby said, brightening up. “When are they going? I hope it’s not when we have class, I’d love to go with them.”

“… The date? The date won’t be a problem, don’t worry...” Weiss said as she projected Ruby’s scroll in front of her, large enough so she wouldn’t have to scroll.

For a moment, Ruby fawned over the selfie with Zwei, Snowie, and Taiyang, before she read the message that came soon after that. Her eyes slowly widened, before she squealed in excitement, trying to wiggle her limbs as much as she could.

Diana woke up with a yelp, frantically looking around till she saw Ruby, Weiss trying and failing to calm her down. “What is going on right now?!” she snapped.

“Sorry, Diana!” Ruby said. “It’s just that I just got some super good news!”

Diana sighed. “Good for you…” she muttered, before she rolled her head to one side of her pillow, put pressure on her special call button.

“Do you want to hear it?” Ruby asked.

“Sure, why not?” Diana replied.

“Dad just invited Weiss’ mom to consult at the Bunker, and they want me to come with!” Ruby said. “Ahh, it’s going to be great! We can totally set the date so all of us can go! We can meet all my old friends! We can meet all the new students that came in this year! We can see all the brand new projects they’ve been up to and—oh my gosh, it just occurred to me, I forgot all about my special summer project, and all the others’, too, which means I can go see them all in person, and...!” she squealed again.

Diana winced, and waited for Ruby to calm down before she said, “Ruby, I hate to rain on your parade, but I don’t think this visit can come until after preliminary exams, at the least.”

Ruby blinked. “Why not…?”

“Well, there’s the fact we’re already massively lagging behind on all of our classes as is, and the extra credit assignments and work we’ll doubtlessly be assigned after we get out of the hospital will most certainly take up most of our free time, not to mention what we’ll be doing instead of ACT, now that all four of us won’t be eligible for team sparring for a long time.”

The light in Ruby’s eyes faded. “Oh. Right. I forgot about those…”

“And if I may add a bit of admittedly paranoid thinking: our last trip together outside of Haven almost ended up with us getting torn apart by Grimm if not for the blessing of the Schnee Home’s security system, and killed by that grave lord, if all the other veteran hunters hadn’t conveniently been around to help kill it.

“I think it might be best if we just stayed inside Haven for the time being… maybe even go out armed and dangerous if we have to head down into the city or elsewhere, just in case.”

A nurse arrived in response to Diana’s call, she excused herself from the conversation as the nurse tended to her.

Ruby sighed, now looking gloomy. “Maybe I should just tell them to go on without me...” she mumbled.

Weiss reached out and touched her shoulder. “Or maybe you should ask if it can wait till at least after prelims...”

“Won’t that be a problem with your mom’s schedule?” Ruby asked. “She might not be free then.”

“Oh, trust me, if it’s something she really likes, she’ll make time for it,” Weiss said. “And I’m pretty sure she really rather likes hanging out with you—the two of you seemed to get along quite well when you were discussing weapons last night!”

Ruby hummed and nodded. “Yeah, that was great…” she sighed, getting sad all over again. “You know, it really sucks that I don’t really have any weapons engineering friends here like I did back in the Bunker, and especially ones on my level.”

She looked up at the ceiling. “’Try and find something you’re both passionate about, or some way you’re both alike!’ dad said when I asked him how I’d make new friends here in Haven, but I guess it’s not that easy to put into practice when all you’ve got is ‘Super into weapons, super socially awkward, and super passionate about old stories of huntsmen and huntresses kicking ass’—not the gritty, ‘tell-all’ journals your grandpa wants us to read for Intro to Grimm, either, like… Adventures of Ammy level stuff, old fairy tales, and the versions you tell kids because you cut out most of the bad parts.

She turned back to Weiss. “Don’t get me wrong: I really like you, and Diana, and Akko… but I’m pretty sure dad would still want me to make more friends, and I want, too… is that bad?”

“Definitely not bad,” Weiss said. “Honestly, before Fate just happened to decide my first week here in Haven wouldn’t even be even remotely close to my most cynical expectations, I was planning on finally trying to expand my social life again—maybe you could join me and Akko…?”

“As your teammate?”

Weiss smiled back. “More like our new best friend.”

Ruby blinked, before she smiled back as her eyes watered. “Thanks, Weiss... I’d really like that.”

Weiss cheeks heated up. She nearly jumped as she heard her scroll beeping, the special tone she used for incoming P1 notifications. “Oh, crap...” she muttered as she closed Ruby’s scroll, headed back to the end table.

As she’d feared, there was a new message from Whitley: “Update: mom was staying at Ruby’s dad’s place, she’s on her way back now. Didn’t pack her meds, but fortunately their dog called her a cab back to Haven as her dad was already off to work.”

There was the same selfie Taiyang had sent Ruby. “Also important: LOOK AT HIM. His name is Zwei and he’s so cute!

Weiss turned to Ruby. “You mind if I talk with my brother for a while?”

“Go ahead!” Ruby replied.

“Thanks,” Weiss said, before she returned to her scroll and typed: “Thanks for the update, sorry that I already knew since earlier, but forgot to pass the information onto you. I was using Ruby’s scroll, and we got distracted talking about some other info her dad had tacked onto the end.”

“Well, that’s however many minutes of my life spent in unnecessary panicking that I’ll never get back.” Whitley replied. “You’re lucky the sight of little tiny horizontal dogs has put me in a good mood. Pray tell, what WERE you two discussing...~?”

Weiss scowled at the little cheeky emoticon at the end of Whitley’s message. “Ruby’s dad invited mom to come consult at the Bunker. She agreed, but they want Ruby to come with, and she wants to take the rest of us with her.

“No date, and probably won’t be one till after prelims at the earliest.”

“A wise choice, considering how terrible things tend to befall you and your team every single time you’ve ever ventured outside of Haven. May want to wait until something terrible inevitably happens to any of you for while ON campus; that should be as good a sign as any that it’s relatively safe to take trips out now.”

Weiss chuckled. “Indeed. You go get ready for school, little brother,” she replied, tacking a heart on the end.

“I’ll try not to get horribly killed or otherwise imperiled now that you, Winter, and Akko aren’t conveniently around to save me,” Whitley replied, a heart on the end of his message, too.

Weiss smiled ruefully, shook her head as she closed her scroll. “So, where were we again…?” she asked as she turned back to Ruby.

“Your and Akko’s plan to make friends,” Ruby replied. “Oh, well, I guess it’s our plan to make friends now.”

“That it is,” Weiss said as she opened her scroll again, settled herself on the seat by Ruby’s bed. “Since phase 1, ‘Become good friends and/or establish a good rapport with my teammates’ went rather well, it’s time to move to phase 2:

“Learn a new skill or get into a new hobby, one that none of us are good at, or familiar with.” A light bulb went off in Weiss’ head. “Or you know what, maybe make that something two out of the three of us aren’t good or familiar with…”

She turned to Ruby, and smiled. “Ruby, how do you feel about teaching me and Akko all about weapons engineering?”

Ruby looked like a little child who’d just opened her Nondescript Winter Holiday present, before she quickly looked like one who’d just learned a little too early just what it took for her parents to buy it in the first place. “Oh, Weiss… I’d love to, but it’s just that I’m on a SUPER high level compared to you guys.

“Not to insult your intelligence or anything, but a lot of the things I do are pretty much instinct at this point. I’ll probably lose you guys all the time because I keep referencing things I can already do by muscle reflex, memorized a long time ago, or just, you know, know, kinda like how a weapon’s components lock together and what might probably be its internals before I even get to see a display model, a schematic, or ideally get to take it apart with my own hands.

“It’s probably gonna really suck, just like when I tried tutoring the others at the Bunker; eventually, we just decided it’d be a LOT easier if I just consulted for ongoing projects, than try to teach someone the principles in the first place.”

“And I say I still want to try!” Weiss replied. “My grandfather would have never come close accomplishing as much as he did if he never constantly stepped up when there was a need, stepped out of his comfort zone, and oftentimes did both at the same time!”

She smiled. “As a matter of fact, he didn’t take up mechanical engineering himself until one of his team’s dedicated engineers broke both his arms in a Grimm attack, and I guess now’s as good as time as any to mirror his example!”

“… Oookay then, if you say so, Weiss!” Ruby said. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You want to make an oath about it while we’re at it?” Weiss asked jokingly, putting her hand over her heart.

“Nah, I’m cool,” Ruby said. “So, where do you want to start?”

“Might as well be efficient about it: how about your notes for keeping Akko and the rest of us from breaking our bones every time we use the Shining Star?” Weiss asked as she grabbed Ruby’s scroll again. “I’m guessing you didn’t get as much brainstorming done last night as you’d have liked?”

“Though you can say that for pretty much every other time, it was a lot less work than usual, yeah...” Ruby replied.

Weiss navigated to her recent files, found Snowie’s notes, which she’d helpfully saved as “Brainstorming for Force Dampening of Shining Star.” Not as helpfully, it seemed to look almost exactly like one of her flow charts in her “Instructions To My Future Self” cabinet before she had gotten a chance to simplify, refine it, and test that her drunken self could still understand it.

Weiss projected the screen over to Ruby again as she pulled out her quill from its slot. “So, what am I looking at here exactly…?”

“Recoil buffers, inertia dampeners, and the beginnings of a hydraulic energy redirection exo-suit, similar to the one Constanze wears for combat, except instead of letting her carry all her equipment and serving as a mounting point for her primary robot arms, it’s meant to take the stress of impact away from Akko’s body, and transform it into a different form of energy that’s much more easily managed or is less dangerous to deal with…

“… Kind of like brakes for wheels turning all that kinetic energy into heat from the friction.”

Weiss nodded. “Is it okay if I make notes in the margins?”

“Go ahead!” Ruby said. “I do it all the time, anyway.”

“Thanks,” Weiss said, changing the digital “ink” to a shade of blue than the red Ruby used. “So I’m guessing all of these designs have to deal with the Third Law of Motion?”

“Action-Reaction, yeah,” Ruby replied. “A lot of people think weapons engineering problems involving reaction is limited to guns and recoil, but really, it applies to almost everything.

“You see, the crux of the problem is, Shining Star is just channeling and storing too much of Akko’s aura all at once, and releasing it far too fast. It’s basically a giant explosion of almost entirely pure aura force, that can’t help but disintegrate anything in front of it—take the grave lord and what used to be the ground underneath it that we turned into a giant crater—and blast it right back when the ground starts to be able to resist the force of the strike, and all that energy moves outwards and back the way it came—like when me, Diana, and Akko went flying up into the air.

“Like I said last night, we could just teach Akko to intentionally pull back on the strength of her swings, but like what I did with Crescent Rose, we could just figure out a different, better way to swing.”

Weiss nodded, listening in intently as she wrote.

“Don’t be afraid to offer any ideas, by the way!” Ruby said. “I like going back and forth with others, and hey, maybe you could crack the problem that stumped me and your mom!”

“You really think so...?” Weiss asked.

“You never really know unless you try!” Ruby chirped. “Maybe you’ll find out you’re actually really good at machines, just like your grandpa.”

Weiss blushed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence…” she looked back at Ruby’s scroll, and frowned. “Also, can I ask how you’re even able to read what my mom wrote last night?”

“She explained her note taking system, her codes, and her shorthand to me, or I already figured it out myself,” Ruby replied. “We’ll just do like we did with the vision-impaired students at the Bunker—I read, you take notes in your own way.”

Weiss nodded, and the two of them quickly went to work.

Thirty minutes later, Akko finally woke up on her own, smiling and yawning contentedly. “Morning guys!” she said, instinctively trying to sit up and stretch her arms, before she remembered they were still in casts. “So, what’s the plan for to…?” she trailed off.

She stared at the sight in front of her, Weiss standing beside Ruby’s bed, frantically scribbling on Ruby’s scroll with the quill, Ruby and Diana silently staring at her in a mixture of silent encouragement and serious concern.

“Okay!” Weiss cried as she slammed the quill down. “So: the backpack is basically a giant heat sink, so when there’s too much heat energy from the brakes, we can just use all the power now stored in the batteries from the thermoelectric generators to operate a giant fan that will help vent the system!

“Will that work?!”

Ruby looked at the desperate, hopeful expression on Weiss’ face, and cast a glance at Diana; Diana mouthed, “Your call, sorry,” Ruby looked back at Weiss, then slowly shook her head.

Weiss’ face fell. “What’s the problem this time…?” she whimpered.

“Problems, actually,” Ruby replied. “While the whole thing is theoretically sound with the mechanics for heat dispersion, we’ll need some hypothetical materials that won’t begin to completely melt and liquefy at that extreme temperature and level of friction;

“Akko will have to be wearing something like an aerodynamic, armoured, and mobile volcanic suit to avoid getting third degree burns from just basic operation or just really, really, super bad chafing;

“And even if the fan really could disperse that much excess heat at once without either also melting, having its internal mechanisms catastrophically failing, or breaking apart from the sheer amount of rotations per minute it’d be hypothetically capable of, we’d have a fourth problem on our hands.”

“Which would be…?” Weiss asked glumly.

“A giant pillar of fire blowing out from Akko’s back like a jet, possibly with enough force to move her, pinning her into the ground or whichever direction is opposite the exhaust—heh, funny, it’s the Third Law again, except applied differently!”

Weiss groaned, let her head hit Ruby’s bed with a thump, and started sobbing quietly.

“There, there, Weiss...” Ruby said. “I’m uh, patting you on the back in spirit, by the way...”

Akko turned to Diana. “Did I miss something…?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Diana replied. “They were already deep into it when I finished reading my morning routine, and I just tuned them out after a minute when my head started spinning. I… I think it’s about the Shining Star, though…?”

“Oooh!” Akko said, brightening up. “What about it?!”

“Later, Akko, later...” Weiss muttered as she raised her head up, dejectedly put Ruby’s quill back into her scroll then shut it. “I don’t want to hear about anything weapons, Shining Star, or the Third Law of Motion for a long while...” she said as she dragged herself back to bed.

Akko looked at Ruby and Diana, who just nodded in agreement.

Breakfast was served shortly after, and the team quickly moved onto discussing how they were going to spend the rest of their morning.

Note: An exo-suit for using Shining Star will be implemented at some point, and though it won't be a giant pillar of flame erupting from her back after every strike, it will be something that will doubtlessly be awesome.

[maealbert]

Spirit Of A Storm

Song Fiction Characters: Emily Prentiss x OC (Haley)

Song: Spirit of a Storm - Kenny Chesney

Requested: NOPE.

A/N: Originally gonna be a team x reader fic BUT the more I listened to this song, I thought it would fit perfectly as an Emily SF.

A/N (part 2): Thunderstorms allllll day today, so it put me in the mood to write something on it. So here’s goes nothing. Also this is a time where I like to throw some personal struggles into this. Writing about my feelings is said to be good therapy...according to my psychiatrist. I also hate thunderstorms..lol.

Summary: Haley and Emily are roommates. A thunderstorm rolls into the DC area and knocks out the power. The two women end up just having deep conversations over warm cups of tea while listening to the storm raging outside.

WARNING: MENTIONS OF ANXIETY, DEATH, SADNESS 100%. I DO APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE!

Master List

There's a spirit of a storm in my soul A restlessness that I can't seem to tame Thunder and lightning follow everywhere I go There's a spirit of a storm in my soul.

Haley stands out in front of the apartment window looking out at the gloomy, dark skies above. All she can think about is how the storm relates to her. The constant storm raging inside of her. The lightning strikes outside illuminating the living room. It’s as if it’s gives enough light for only a split second. Kind of how she sometimes gets a split second of sunlight shining in her spirit and then disappearing instantly before being followed by the loud booms of her thoughts and her paralyzing anxiety. This actual thunderstorm of course doesn’t help one bit. She’s always been afraid of thunderstorms. Bad things tend to happen in thunderstorms. Car accidents because of the heavy downpours. Trees begin knocked over and breaking things due to the strong winds. Flash flooding. Deaths are always reported when strong storms blow through.

Soon a tiny light fills one wall. She turns her head to see Emily flickering her wrist to out out the small match between her fingers. “Shed some light in this dark room.” She says resting her hands on her hips. “Stupid storm knocked the power in the half the city. JJ invited us over to her place because they have power. I, however, declined that idea because tonight is a perfect night to just talk. You and me. No interruptions from anybody on the team or anyone else from work.”

“I like that idea.” Haley responds with a small smile.

“Good, I’m glad. So how does teas sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Well then I will brew us some tea. Honey? Sugar?”

“Honey please.”

“Got it.” Emily said nodding her head. “I will be back in a bit.” She disappears into the kitchen leaving Haley alone in the living room with only the sounds of the storm outside and the soothing purrs of Sergio as he rubs against her leg. Slowly sitting down crossed legged on the floor she allows Sergio to crawl up into her lap as she strokes his head. Suddenly a loud thunder clap sounds shaking the apartment. Haley lets out a soft wince as she squeezes one eye shut. Her heart beats quicker and her hands shake as she continues to pet Sergio’s head.

There's a hurricane that's raging through my blood I can't find a way to calm the sea Maybe I'll find someday the waters aren't so rushed Right now they've got the best of me And oh, it's been a long, long time Since I had real peace of mind So I'm just going to sit right here In this old chair till this storm rolls by.

Thoughts begin rushing through her head like a hurricane’s wind blew through the tree’s branches and leaves. Thoughts of fear that this might go on forever and never end. Thoughts of people out there possibly dying in car accidents or fallen tree limbs crushing their homes. She can’t help it. She tries to fight it and think about something else but it isn’t enough. She prays every night that she’ll have those days of peace and calm. The calm she needs and would die for before another storm comes crashing through. She hasn’t felt normal since she was a little girl. She was diagnosed with anxiety and PTSD after a severe thunderstorm rolled through Texas. Tornadoes touched down in several towns. One was her hometown. The thunderstorm caused power outrages, fallen trees everywhere, torn apart homes. Her home specifically. She watched her father get crushed by a tree limb as they were rushing to the storm cellar. She remembered trying to run to him but her mother only held her back as her brother tugged on her arm pulling her down into the storm cellar.

Ever since that day it’s been hard for her to get through a thunderstorm without having that fear of something bad happening.

“Tea with honey.” Emily said as she walked into the living room carrying to hot cups of tea. She notices Haley sitting on the floor staring at the blank, white wall as she slowly runs her fingers through Sergio’s black fur. Setting the cups down on the coffee table she sits down on the floor beside Haley. “Hails..” She speaks laying her hand on Haley’s shoulder. Haley snaps out of her trance and looks at Emily. “Are you okay?”

“I hate thunderstorms..” Haley responds before looking down at the sleeping cat in her lap.

Emily sighs realizing why Haley was so out of it tonight. “Everything is going okay, Haley.” She says rubbing Haley’s arm. “It may look scary out there but always remember that you can find that rainbow within the midst of all of it. And I don’t just mean what’s the weather is acting like outside.”

“It’s hard Emily... I try so hard.” Haley says. Her lip quivers as a tear slips down her cheek.

“It’s okay to have your moments.. But don’t let it get the best of you. We as humans were created to be strong and fight back no matter the problem.”

Oh, maybe it's just the way I am Maybe I won't ever change So I'm just going to sit right here In this old chair and just soak up the rain.

What if she’s always like this? What if Emily was wrong? What if never finds that rainbow after the storm passes? What if that never shows up?

Things do change, but what if they don’t for her? She was afraid she might be sitting there in same old chair staring out the window at the perfect world full of rainbows and beautiful, blooming flowers while her gloomy and raging storms take over her mind and body. She can’t help but think of the negative thoughts as she strives to be the happy, peaceful, positive, upbeat person she wants to be.

“Haley, trust me. Whatever you are feeling, it will pass.” Emily said.

“What if never does?”

“It does. It’ll take time but I promise you won’t go through this forever. You will find your rainbow and it’ll be the best feeling you’ve ever felt. Better than that kiss you had with Spencer.” Emily says making Haley giggle. Emily laughs softly as she takes a sip of her tea. There's a spirit of a storm in my soul Every time I think it's gone away Dark clouds gather, that old wind begins to blow The sun's going to shine someday I hope There's a spirit of a storm in my soul, in my soul.

As the storm passed through the two women continued to sit on the living room in front of the window walking. Lightning would flash lighting up the room followed but loud rolls of thunder. Haley would feel Emily’s hand rest on her knee as she gave her a reassuring look.

“The sun’s going to shine someday, I hope.” She recites.

“Someday..” Emily repeats.

You can thank the thunderstorms for giving me inspiration to write this piece. Oh my gosh, it’s been so bad today. Streets were closed due to flooding, people’s basements flooded, power outrages across the Columbus area.. Electricity at work would flicker but never actually go out. Guys, Ohio weather fucking sucks most of the time. Mother Nature has it out for us, I swear.

ANYWHO....

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