#chewing at my cage bars do you see the vision !!!!!!!!

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

inside me there are two wolves. one says "you should OCify muriel before she gets introduced so that you can explore the themes you personally would want to see, before you get distracted by canon". the other says "that sounds like a stupid idea and a surefire way to get disappointed by canon"

[jolalibrary]

him. he. joel.

joel miller x f!reader | joel miller masterlist

summary: you don't know his name. he doesn't know yours. yet.

wordcount: 1.5k warnings: PRE OUTBREAK. a suggestion of alcohol as they're in a bar, but never consumed. smut. unprotected sex with a stranger (at first). oral sex (m!receiving + f!receiving). no use of y/n. no age gap is specified (use your imagination, honey). jo spelling too, cause wrote this on my phone read on ao3

Your eyes land on his across the room.

Throat drying at first contact, feet glueing more to the insoles of your shoes as you focus on keeping your back straight—poised, unwilling to crack or bend. 

Especially when he seeks you out over random heads and remains there even when you pretend to look away.

You only see him here occasionally.

No routine, no plan—no arrangement in place, just a chance and encounter. 

As soon as you do, the two of you perform the same dance as the time before, circling and circling until the inevitable collision. 

He doesn’t know your name; you don’t know his.

But, you do know how his cock feels in your throat. You do know the way his stubble feels on the inside of your thighs—and the grunt he makes when he spills inside of you.

Just like how you know the way his lips feel when he’s zipping himself back up, giving you one last parting kiss before he’s through the door of the bathroom, supply closet or exiting out of the back of your car. 

Tonight, it’s another person's birthday. 

Ericsson’s maybe? Or a person called Monty—you’re not sure.

You’re just wondering how long it’ll take before the usual routine comes into play. 

Will he find you outside, head turned away under the twinkling, milky stars and a cloudless sky before he snaps your attention to him? Or, will his fingers, deft and thick, find your wrist—pull you into a dark corner and slant his mouth across yours to smother your gasp? 

Except tonight feels different, something in the air—it is all heavy, layering thick. Some part of you wondering if there are new rules to the game, ones not shared, not handed to you—more so when he breaks away from the rowdy celebrations and leans on the bar next to you. 

“Alone?”

“Aren’t I always?” 

He chews his tongue, the sleeves of his brown t-shirt clinging to his biceps—parts of the seam unthreaded, likely over-worn. 

“You taking me away from here or will we see if my lipstick is still on the mirror from last time?” 

All set to move, to slide from your usual bar stool, when he rests his palm on the back of it, caging you, keeping you there. All broad, wide, arms long, as you stare at him, enamoured, suddenly unsure why you don't just press your mouth to his here and now.

“You not like where y’sat?” he asks.

Doing so as though he can’t see the twinkle in your eyes or see the play-by-play movie you hope will happen tonight flicking in your pupils. As though he can't see how he'd struggle to slide a finger between your pressed-together thighs, never mind his hand.  

Moving your hand, you bring your glass closer, taking a sip of your Coke, ice clinking, straw remaining on your lip a second longer as his brown eyes dig a little deeper. 

“Maybe, I just think your face is worth sitting on.”

You hadn’t banked on going home with him. 

A shift, a noticeable change to the way things were. But, it thrilled you. Made the entire ride over an excited, uncomfortable mess as your underwear grew more ruined with every mile. 

He’d made it worth it.

Gave you a fucking throne to sit on as he worked his tongue inside you like he was as starved as you. He drew you to the edge, hanging you over it as he paused, cool breaths blown before his tongue did a circle, a square, and a letter on your clit that made your ears ring, vision blur and your thighs ache from trembling. 

Made you feel relief.

“All fours for me.” 

It's followed by a demand, an order. One you follow with a scramble. A bend of your back that has him calling you a good girl as he inches his cock in—making your fingers clench around his bedsheets. 

Your body welcomes him.

A blend of feeling good and too much all at once as you stretch around him. Feeling his palm on your spine, sliding down before moving over your hip. Words spoken, grunted into your skin that you’re barely able to discern as your breathing comes back to you, as you relax around him and let him bury himself to the hilt inside of you. 

“Y’can move.” 

And he does. 

Making your body illuminate, a full-on tremble as you course with electricity. Each drag making you see those same spots in your vision. Making you moan, whine, groan.

That is, until you hiss—a different one than when he pinches your ear lobe between his teeth or when he sucks on the skin of your neck a little more intensely than normal. 

You apologise. Tapping to move, finding he releases you, before you explain—Cramp. That’s all you offer. Fearful of crossing another boundary when you move, positioning yourself on your back and letting the low light from his bedside lamp shimmer over him. 

And fuck, is he handsome. Beautiful.

The sheen of sweat makes him glow, makes every inch of him quickly committed to memory. Doing so for as long as you let yourself give before you're yanking his mouth back to yours, panted against it when he slides his cock back, pushing all the way, feeling the fullness you crave in the weeks between seeing him. 

Because it’s a feeling you’d wait for. 

Practically growing parched before you see him again, salivating at the sight of his eyes and hardened stare.

It's a thing you suspect he feels too, virtually confessing it with each thrust, punctuating it, practically marking it on your walls as his arm rests in the space above your head, caging you, allowing him to watch everything that flicks across your face. 

It’s why when you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, in sheets that don’t smell like yours—a wish for his name begins burning there on the tip of your tongue now. All acidic—making a mark. 

It does so as you find your clothes—as you slip your legs inside your jeans and manage to throw on your blouse. 

It’s then you see the photos—stitch together the life your mystery man leads. Seeing that he has a kid, one with a beautiful smile—a child that looks half his and half someone you hope you don’t know. 

A sickness churning, flipping inside of you as you slide out of the bedroom, sneak down the staircase and spot the door you can escape through. 

It’s just, you know nothing about him. 

You don’t know that he likes his coffee black and that he barely eats breakfast. In the same way, you don’t know that he rises early, and he’s already waiting for you because he’d heard the sound of the wobbly floorboards. 

“Sneakin’ out?” 

“Sneaking implies I’m embarrassed.” 

Hand wrapped around a mug—making it look small, insignificant, he takes a sip. “You’re not?” 

“Should I be?” 

Shrugging, he takes another sip. 

You say goodbye. Let the place his name should be linger.

Then you close his door behind you. 

Fuck.

You learn his name is Joel.

Each of the four letters practically burnt into you when he handed them to you. Yet, you'd wished he'd seared them into your skin while his fingers held your chin.

Because then you could call it an accident.

But, he doesn't hand it to you that way. He gives it to you. Willingly. 

Just like he does with slithers of his past, his work, that he comes here with his brother, and then his kid’s name—Sarah. Explains it in as few words as possible. Better than sitting at home alone. Better company here. 

The latter almost makes your lips twitch into a smile. 

Joel gives you all of this on a different kind of night than you normally see him. You're working, for one. Pencil tapping against the book, the numbers make sense—the maths finding their rhythm.

But, even if that all makes sense, he doesn’t. 

Nothing about him adds up. An enigma, a confusion on two legs. Yet, you’re hooked—knew you were when you took him in the bathroom of the bar your friends own and got on your knees for him. When you unbuckled his belt and let it clang, tasting salt and pent-up frustration on your tongue as he filled your mouth with his release. He didn’t ask to see it, but you showed it to him anyway, earning an arrogant smirk before he’s helping you off the ground. 

You tell him yours, exchange him for it as you look down at the books—nudging receipts with the eraser end of your pencil before he leans his forearms on the edge of the bar next to you. 

“Already knew that.” 

Your head turns before your neck catches up. Eyes narrowed, lips parting in a question—except it never leaves your throat. 

“I asked about you.” 

Dropping your pencil, you fight the smile. The one desperate to carve on your face. “Why?” 

“Right thing to do.” 

Brow arching, you smirk—letting that free, allow it to spread up to your eyes as your body twists. 

“Y’think you’d wanna get outta here?”

“With you?” 

He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth, thumb circling his finger. “Think I owe you dinner.” 

Nodding, you close the book—pencil keeping your place, sliding it up, nodding to the person behind the bar before turning back to him.

“You did have dessert the last time we saw each other, Joel.”  

“I did. Should know better—I’m a dad.”

Resting your cheek on your palm, you roll your lips, and watch red rise up his neck as he waits for your answer. “Your shirt is inside out.” 

“Goddamn it.” 

You go with him anyway.

an: I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN PRE-OUTBREAK JOEL. so thank my circle friends because this all began with them, and a faceless man. and now here we are.

[irritablepoe]

Would you prefer be a creature in a cage, a terrarium, a fish tank, or some sort of glass display case meant for delicate taxidermy (whilst *not being* taxidermy ofc)?

That's a good question actually! Ok so I don't think water is so great for me yk, otherwise my beastly creature wetness doesn't take as much effect while displaying me (this is an important trait, it adds to the charm), so ig it won't be a fish tank. Personally I'd not enjoy looking through some bars bc I don't like having my vision taken away even if it's only bars HOWEVER it would resemble a good prison... For my feralness you see... And I could chew on it😌 Idk if I'm delicate or elegant enough for a glass display, so in the end ig we'll settle on either a cage or a terrarium, but what do you think? :3 I personally would love to chew on some metal tho nom nom

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 44

First - Previous - Masterlist - Next

Enma gritted his teeth.

He paced back and forth in the makeshift cage made out of the bones of – some animal, frankly he did not want to know. He could probably squeeze through the bars, they weren’t packed so closely together that it would be difficult, but he feared that the thing outside the bars would be far more dangerous.

But being in a cage was endlessly boring, and the monster outside of it did not deserve his current position as king, could not compare to his true king. So, he decided that he might as well annoy him in the little time before he was inevitably eaten.

“Noooobody knooows, the trouble I’ve seeeen,” he sang, purposefully as flat and off-tune as he could be. “Noooobody knooooows my sorrowww.”

He didn’t know anything more than those two lines, but that was fine, all the more annoying if he just sang them over and over again. So, he did, until the monster had finally had enough of him.

“Lighten up,” it said, picking its teeth clean with a bone. “Why not sing something with a bit more bounce to it?”

The monster tossed the bone at his cage. It clattered to the floor at his feet, and he took in that the bone was a wishbone. He couldn’t identify what kind of bird it came from, but as a bird himself he found it more than a little disconcerting.

His eyes narrowed, briefly.

And then he smiled, bouncing a little in place as he sang, “It’s! Small world! After all –!”

“No, no, anything but that,” it snapped.

He sighed. He didn’t even get to the worst part yet. But sure, fine. Even if he didn’t see this… thing as his true king, he couldn’t disobey a direct order. He wracked his mind for another lively tune.

He wasn’t a songbird.

“Your brother wouldn’t make me do this,” he grumbled under his breath as he prepared himself to sing a dumb song about coconuts.

But lions had always had good hearing, and the monster jerked to attention, its expression shifting from mostly cold and indifferent to a blazing fury.

“What did you say?”

Within seconds, the monster was inches away from his cage, and he nearly tripped over his own tailfeathers in an attempt to put distance between them once again.

“You know the law, don’t you dare mention him in my presence. I am the king!”

He glanced around nervously. “I was – I was only highlighting the differences in your – er – managerial approaches.”

It looked like his death was going to come far sooner than he had even expected.

But the monster’s attention was dragged away before it could reach a paw through the bars for him, by those three blasted hyenas. They were complaining about not having food and water, their tones bordering on accusing. He wasn’t sure what they had been expecting. The monster could blame the lionesses for not doing their jobs all he wanted, that didn’t change the fact that it was still a direct result of him coming into power.

Even the hyenas were beginning to realize this new ‘king’ was not up to par. Nor did it really want to be, it seemed. It had never been about having a better vision for their kingdom, no it was all about a dumb inferiority complex.

“You can eat him, if you want. I don’t have much use for him, anyway,” it said.

His thoughts cut themselves off as three sets of hungry eyes turned to him at once. He backed up against the bars of his cage once again.

“Nonono,” he said, quickly, eyes flicking around for any kind of escape, but he already knew that there wasn’t one. “I’m – I’m too gamey, all skin and bones, you’d probably waste more energy chewing me than you would get from eating me! And there’s three of you! Surely, you’d like something more –!”

He yelped as one of the hyenas lifted his cage with ease, tossing it aside carelessly. The bones shattered as they skipped across the ground.

Sharp teeth closed in on him from all sides before he’d even gotten the chance to try and fly away.

Enma jolted awake. Everything hurt, which felt unfair, in his humble opinion. He hadn’t done anything to deserve this. He had even slept in a bed for the first time in, like, two weeks! Frankly, he should be feeling like a god right now and he was personally offended that he did not.

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, looking over at his friends. Ito was, as always, out. But Kuroki, for once, hadn’t woken up either. Frankly, good for him, he had barely slept a wink on Ruggie’s floor. Compared to that, even their shitty bed with a loose, rusty spring that threatened to stab the unwary was a godsend. And that wasn’t even considering how often Ruggie had woken Kuroki up with his many, many escape attempts.

Yeah, Kuroki deserved this.

Enma carefully reached over and ruffled his friend’s hair, valiantly fighting off a wave of affection when he saw Kuroki’s lips pull up into a ghost of a smile in his sleep.

Haha Kuroki is drooling a little.

Their alarm started blaring.

He slapped a hand over the snooze button, scowling. Not because of the sound of the alarm – though that was annoying, too – but because sudden the movement aggravated his… injuries that he didn’t have.

Enma turned back to his friends. Sleeping peacefully. Really, they looked adorable. Kuroki’s little bedhead, tucked under Ito’s arm. Ito holding him close so he didn’t get impaled by the aforementioned evil, possibly deadly spring – tetanus is no joke.

He lifted the blanket and pushed them out of bed.

(Sue him. He felt like he had been chewed up and then spit back out.)

They hit the ground in a heap of limbs, with an even bigger heaping helping of curse words. Courtesy of mostly Kuroki, of course.

Kuroki was, predictably, pissed off by the entire ordeal. He sat up, one hand frantically wiping at his mouth, the other doing the all-important job of flipping Enma off. “Why?”

“Revenge,” said Enma, short and simple.

Ito continued to lay there on the floor. If it wasn’t for the fact that their eyes were open, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, Enma would have assumed they had slept through hitting the ground. “Why?” they asked, not even looking over.

“You were a necessary civilian casualty,” Enma said solemnly.

Ito, slowly, nodded their understanding.

~

“You abandoned me!” Grim wailed the second he stepped through the mirror and saw them waiting for him and Ruggie. It looked like he wanted to fling himself into Kuroki’s arms for comfort, but couldn’t because he was currently mad at him.

Kuroki, of course, was devastated. “We tried to get back to you, we just couldn’t!” he consoled.

It wasn’t even a lie. They’d tried to go back to the Savanaclaw dorm after their meeting with Crowley, but the greenery had grown too much for them to get through. They could have tried waiting for Ruggie, but that would make it obvious they knew he had left, and they hadn’t wanted to deal with that particular line of questioning so late at night – and, besides, that assumed Ruggie hadn’t gotten there before them. There was a very real chance that they would have had to sleep on the jungle floor, and none of them had been eager to try that.

So, they had gone home.

Now, though, it looked like Kuroki wished that they had risked getting consumed by the plants.

Grim crossed his arms over his chest, determinedly not looking at any of them. “I want my tuna can budget increased by five cans.”

That little opportunist.

Kuroki’s forehead beaded with sweat. “Like, permanently? Five extra a week or a month?”

Ah, Kuroki, forced to choose between his two loves – animals and not risking starving to death. He seemed to be doing mental math to figure out how long it would take Grim to get over all of this naturally.

Enma guessed that they had a week before Grim broke, but Kuroki would likely last only a few days.

The way that Kuroki paled indicated that he knew this, too.

“Well…” said Ito, their head tipping to the side thoughtfully. “How about this: we get you ten extra tuna cans after Kuroki gets his paycheck today. Then you don’t have to wait two whole weeks to get all of your extra cans! And I’ll buy you something sweet from one of the food stalls!”

Grim narrowed his eyes at them.

Ito simply smiled.

Grim proceeded to grab Ito by the hand and start tugging them away, off towards the school Magift field. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Hey! No need to run! I don’t think any of the food stalls are even open yet!” Ito laughed.

Kuroki caught their other hand, acting as a temporary anchor. Though not for the sake of helping them, of course not. “How did you know that would work?” he asked, sounding slightly jealous.

Ito winked. “I’m an older sibling.”

Kuroki, frustrated by the lack of a proper answer, let go of them and allowed them to get dragged off by an excited Grim.

Ruggie finally spoke up:

“Toddlers suck at conceptualizing the idea of ‘getting more if you wait’.”

~

“I expected you guys to look worse,” said Ace, the moment he saw them, because he was an asshole.

Luckily, so was Kuroki. He batted his eyelashes. “Aw, we’re prettier than you expected? You’re so sweet, Ace.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “I thought the Savanaclaw people would have realized that, as long as they’re not on the Magift team, they could beat you up without too much consequence.”

“They realized that, like, day three,” Enma confirmed, sighing.

Ace looked them up and down over and over again as if he would see the injuries he had previously missed upon a second glance (or a seventh glance).

“Hey, I won without getting hurt!” Enma said, offended. Because he had, save for necessary injuries like bruising his knuckles on someone’s face, and he would argue that they had it much worse.

“We had to use a healing potion,” Kuroki admitted. Probably just because he thought it would be funny to undermine Enma’s genuine fighting abilities.

Enma opened his mouth to say that Kuroki was the one who had used it, and that Enma wouldn’t have even bothered had Kuroki not shoved it against his mouth…

But then the weirdest thing happened. Ace’s eyebrows knit together confusedly for a moment. “A healing…? Who gave you that?”

“The Headmaster,” Enma shrugged.

“Well, he gave us some at the beginning of the year, after the mines, and we… took the excess off of his hands,” Kuroki said.

Ace’s eyes narrowed just slightly. He cleared his throat, shaking his head, something like a smile appearing on his face, but it was off. “Of course he did.”

Ooookay, that was weird. Kuroki and Enma looked at each other, but found that they were both equally confused. So, they looked at Ruggie for an explanation for why their friend was acting so damn strange, but Ruggie was playing on his phone, showing no indication that he had even heard them all speak.

Out of options, they looked at Deuce. Who was… busy. Being shell-shocked. There was a very real chance that he had no clue where he was, seeing as Ace was basically leading the guy by the hand, which should have elicited a blush on any other day, but here they were.

“What’s wrong with him?” Enma asked.

Ace immediately deflated as the horrors came back to him.

“We did all that work to try and save the day and we don’t even get to play on the team!” he sulked.

(Deuce was too distraught at the news to even speak, his gaze locked on the horizon unblinkingly.)

Kuroki snorted. “Welcome to our world.”

Neither of them seemed particularly happy to be visiting their world for a change. To be fair, though, Enma wasn’t that fond of the idea of going back there, either, so could he really blame them?

… actually, maybe he would want to go home. At least in his world he got to play sports.

He flung his arms around Kuroki for comfort. “You just don’t get it.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” he said flatly.

“Guys, I was gone for half an hour,” Ito said, pinching the bridge of their nose with the hand that wasn’t holding Grim’s cotton candy for him. “What even happened?”

“A tragedy,” lamented Ace, sinking to his knees, attempting to cling to their pant legs.

Ito sidestepped easily. “Oh, okay, so it’s not that big of a deal, then.”

Kuroki nodded as much as he could with a head on top of his.

The sports fans were all very offended.

So much so that Deuce actually snapped out of it. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, I told my mom I had a chance of being on the team. She rebought cable for this! And I won’t be on it!”

Grim huffed. “And I have a face that’s made for TV! This could have been my grand debut!”

“There’s always next… year…” Kuroki started, only to trail off, grimacing.

Aaaand now Ito was in a funk, too. Being forced to remember the reality of their situation often did that to them.

Kuroki looked around at all of his depressed friends. He glanced at Ruggie, as if considering trying to beg him for help, but Ruggie clearly had no intention of doing so – his head was spinning on a swivel, considering the exits, hoping to use their momentary distraction as a chance to escape.

Kuroki sighed, deeply. His lips twisted into a brief scowl before he seemed to resign himself to something. “I have work, soon. Walk me there?”

Enma hadn’t thought much of it. It wasn’t like they had never walked Kuroki to work before – in fact, they did it as often as they could manage, to the point where the only thing that had been mildly surprising was that Kuroki had bothered to even ask.

That is, until a creepily happy Azul handed Kuroki his schedule (apparently, they’d had some last-minute alterations to their plan)... and, more importantly, his uniform for the day.

Everyone immediately perked up.

Kuroki, reluctantly, stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later in what could only be described as a McDonald’s uniform. He attempted to cover his red face with the even more red cap emblazoned with the Mostro Lounge’s logo (the letters ML in elegant cursive, usually gold on black, were bright yellow, which was not helping the McDonald’s worker allegations), mumbling curses under his breath.

Ace pulled out his phone and immediately started taking blackmail photos, much to Kuroki’s absolute chagrin. Ito was cooing in Spanish (not that that kept Enma and Kuroki from knowing, generally, what they were saying – they had heard those words be used towards Grim quite a few times before, and the ‘ito’ sound was very prominent). Deuce was trying to take Kuroki’s hat away so they could all get a better picture of his face. Enma and Grim were laughing their asses off at how young and tiny Kuroki looked. Even Ruggie was hiding a grin behind his Savanaclaw-brand water bottle.

Enma could almost see Kuroki mentally going over his entire life, trying to figure out where he had messed up to get to this point.

“Ohhhh, if only Cater-senpai was here,” said Ace, grinning as he went through the new additions to his camera roll for the best photos. “He probably knows how to use filters to make our baby Kuroki look even cuter.”

Ito smirked. “I can do it.”

Kuroki looked like he very much wished that they could not.

They paid this no mind, plucking Ace’s phone from his hands, and the rest of them crowded around as Ito added little hearts and rainbows to the pictures. Kuroki tried to get the phone, but utterly failed to consider that the rest of the group was very invested in keeping him away from it.

“Make his eyes bigger,” Enma said.

Kuroki stopped trying to tear his way through Enma’s arm for just long enough to say “I hope you die” before going right back to biting him. This was not fun, he was still aching from sleeping wrong (or whatever it was that had made him so sore this morning, he really wasn’t sure), but whatever, it was worth it for the funnies.

“Maybe the little tsundere-fang-thingy,” Deuce chimed in.

Ito added their requests with a shit-eating grin.

And then Grim paused, smelling the air. He spun in a circle. “Uh… Ruggie’s gone.”

“Whoops,” said Ito, absently. They seemed to have no intention of dealing with it anytime soon, still editing the photos with a wide grin.

It was Enma who slung an arm around their shoulders to help lead them away. “We should probably go find him before he takes someone out.”

“We should probably go report to Riddle, too…” Ace said, reluctantly.

So, with a couple of waves, they set off on their own assignments.

~

They found Ruggie leaning in the doorway of the stadium, looking around in a way that seemed more bored than… stakeout-y. Sure, he was definitely people watching, in a way – his eyes absently following people as they filed into the stadium, but it didn’t seem like he was actually paying it much mind, human eyes are just naturally drawn to movement.

He took occasional sips from his water bottle, cringing just slightly every time the liquid in his water bottle touched his tongue.

Enma winced sympathetically. If there was one thing he didn’t miss about playing sports, it was definitely the taste of pre-workout.

And then forced his mind back on track.

Ito and Enma glanced between themselves, somewhat suspiciously. Why hadn’t Ruggie taken the opportunity to try and hurt someone? Why sneak away at all, if all he wanted to do was stand around? Or… lean around?

Why did it seem like he was waiting for them?

Ruggie smiled in the face of their suspicion, which did little to alleviate it.

“What? I said we’d play nice!”

“Bullshit,” said Grim.

Ruggie gave a mocking pout, before his lips curled into something akin to disgust. He looked down at his water bottle for a moment, contemplative, before taking a deep breath and downing the rest of it in one go.

“Ugh, that’s rancid,” he complained.

Ito raised an eyebrow. “Why drink something if you hate the taste?”

Enma thought that that was a little hypocritical coming from someone who regularly drank Coke of all things. He had tried it one day out of curiosity. Now that stuff was rancid.

Ruggie smiled, practically vibrating in place, the caffeine surely doing its job –.

“Well, because it makes me stronger.”

It was then that Enma realized Ruggie did not have the figure of someone who regularly drank pre-workout.

He pointed his pen at Grim. “Laugh with me.”

And then, he pointed it at Enma, and then Ito.

Then, just about everyone in the nearby vicinity.

The crowd began to cheer, the announcer probably stepping out into the field, the game about to begin.

Frankly, it just felt like the world was laughing at them.

Enma wanted to be released from the magic binding him. Not even so he could escape. He just wanted to punch himself in the face. Rattle his brain around a little, since clearly it wasn’t using those brain cells anyway.

Since when had Savanaclaw Dorm shown themselves to be adept at psychological torture? Damn it! They’d been thinking too far along the lines of what they would do, but they were not the ones committing the crime! No, Savanaclaw was much more of a physical dorm (why wouldn’t they be, when they actually had the power to do so?). Even their ‘underhanded’ tricks always had a straightforwardness to them. They weren’t trying to prove a point, not like the Yuus would, they just wanted to win.

“Please give a round of applause –” Crowley began, his voice amplified either through magic or regular old speakers, Enma didn’t currently care because he was practically bouncing in place, Ruggie’s excitement (or was it nerves?) like fire in his veins because it wasn’t supposed to be there. “– for our reigning champions: Diasomnia!”

His feet began to carry him forward, each step endlessly disorienting. His body felt – wrong. The movements were meant for someone far smaller than him, faster than him. The unfamiliar weight distribution was enough to make him nauseous. He could barely think as he was forced into a run.

Not that it would have helped him, anyway.

And, quite frankly, he found the reprieve was somewhat nice. Soothing. Because it kept him from thinking too hard about the people he was forced to trample underfoot.

It was a good thing Riddle had planned for this eventuality. Getting the actual Diasomnia students out of the line of fire, in favor of a bunch of Cater clones, prevented as many casualties as possible.

Bystanders, however… well, there wasn’t too much that could be done about them, in this case. Ruggie needed the stampeding crowd to slowly break off one by one so he wouldn’t be pinpointed as the perpetrator, and anyone who didn’t get out of their way in time was just an unfortunate casualty, it seemed. They just had to hope that no one got too hurt.

He was both relieved and not when he was finally released, just outside of the Hall of Mirrors. On one hand, he could feel his body crying out in relief. On the other, oh no his brain was working again.

Time to rectify that.

Ito was quick to turn to him, their expression nervous. They seemed to know that he wasn’t feeling so hot… good thing Savanaclaw Dorm was a jungle and desert!

“Let’s go,” he said.

Their eyes flicked over him, quickly, looking for any hint of an injury. They glanced at Grim for confirmation that Enma hadn’t hurt himself, and the monster merely shrugged and shook his head. Enma wasn’t bleeding, after all.

“I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

And he was going to take that out on a particular Magift team if it killed him.

~

The Savanaclaw members were celebrating their victory. Enma thought they should start getting ready for that game they cared about so much, but then again their stunt had likely bought them an hour or two while Crowley struggled to get everything back under control. And the wounded would have to be tended to…

Haha nope! Enma has decided not to feel that emotion right now. He is going to feel a different one, thank you.

He stormed forward. Animal ears pricked to attention and it wasn’t long before all eyes were on him.

“You guys…!” Enma clenched his fists. He couldn’t find the words to describe anything that he was feeling, and damn if that didn’t just make it all feel worse.

“You seem… way more mad than I thought you’d be,” said Ruggie, genuinely caught off-guard.

“He’s not mad at you,” Ito said, sounding tired.

“I’m mad that I thought your plan was going to be – complicated!” Enma said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “A master plan! Are you kidding?! All that talk about warming up for the main event! Just for you guys to try and bewitch a bunch of people into trampling Diasomnia for you! It’s so – stupid!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” said Leona, defensively. It was probably his idea, then.

“No, no it didn’t,” a new voice said.

The two Savanaclaw members went stock-still, before turning to look at three Diasomnia kids, all standing in their dorm uniforms, completely unharmed.

Lilia Vanrouge, the person who’d spoken, smiled like he thought all of this hilarious.

“You – you – !” Ruggie looked at the three Diasmonia students with wide eyes. “I saw you guys get swallowed up by the stampede!”

“Did you now?” The green-haired Diasomnia student said, a little louder than was strictly necessary.

“I feel fine,” said the silver-haired one.

“And Malleus?” Ruggie said, his shoulders slumping like he already knew. Maybe he did.

“Oh, he's just fine, of course! He's been clearing up the chaos, using his magic to guide all the people safely back to the Coliseum. You can thank him later.”

The Savanaclaw students were silent, for a moment. Realizing just how badly they had lost.

“We – we still outnumber them, right now,” Lucius said, somewhat desperately, reaching for his pen. “We can take them out, at least.”

“Are you sure about that?” Cater called, pulling everyone’s attention to the group wandering out of the woods. Ace, Deuce, and Riddle were with him. But that was hardly where anyone was looking.

The Ramshackle kids were quick to reunite with each other, taking their normal places at each other’s sides (Ito commented on Kuroki switching out of his work clothes, earning a blush from Kuroki, much to Enma’s delight). If you watched carefully, you could see the exact moment when things slotted into place for them.

And the Savanaclaw students looked at the tallest member of their little ‘group’.

Jack Howl.

Leona’s lips curled in disgust. “Did you transfer to Heartslabyul on us?”

“No,” Jack said, crossing his arms, distinctly uncomfortable but clearly not willing to back down. “I just don’t want to be associated with a bunch of cowards.”

“Traitor,” Ruggie hissed.

It was Riddle, surprisingly, that stepped in front of Jack protectively, his wand out…

No, not protectively, he was just aggressive and wanted their attention to say: “You have tarnished a proud Night Raven tradition. As the Housewarden of Heartslabyul, a dorm focused on orderliness, I cannot possibly overlook this.”

With no further ado, he pointed his wand at the group of Savanaclaw students and said “OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!”

The students didn’t even have time to pull out their pens before collars were snapped over their necks.

(Ace and Deuce winced a little at the reminder of their own attempts at dueling Riddle earlier that year, which had ended in much the same way. But, as long as this didn’t lead to Riddle Overblotting again, somehow, Enma would say it was still going better than theirs.)

The Savanaclaw dorm was utterly defeated.

Which meant it was time for their last little nail in the coffin.

“Did you get all that, Crowley?” Ito asked, pulling a phone out of their pocket.

Crowley smiled from the other side of the line, giving them all a thumbs-up. “Indeed I did, Ito-ch –.”

“Great,” Ito cut him off. Enma noted that, for some reason, they looked a little embarrassed, but couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why… “Bye.”

They hung up on him.

Ruggie was, for once, speechless.

“You… you guys don’t have a phone,” said Leona, slowly. “I checked your pockets every day. Not a single one of my dorm members has ever seen any of you with them. I even used my connections to make sure of it, I called every provider I knew looking for your files! You! Don’t! have! phones!”

“We don’t,” agreed Ito. They turned the phone around to show off Ace’s phone case, a simple black one that he often doodled on during class, though the doodles were very smudged right now. “But it’s not that hard to steal phones, as Ruggie showed us a little while back.”

They tossed it back to Ace, who hugged his phone to his chest, glowering at them. Enma would have killed to have seen his face when he noticed it missing, but alas.

He still got to see Ruggie sink, slowly, to his knees. “How…?”

Enma didn’t even get to enjoy it, because Leona’s scowl slowly lessened, and he threw a hand up in the air, pretending to wave a white flag.

“I give up.”

[redstrewn]

No wait here’s the link to the playlist: https://spotify.link/55TnO2GLGDb

I hope it works! Sorry im no good at this sorta thing — musa

Hi im sorry i never got around to actually finishibg commenting on the whole thing but since its been like 5838849392829 years i might as well post what ive had in the drafts. Sorry that its mostly just me keysmashing and going insane over a couple songs bc my braincell just does that AHSJDNFJFK

OUH I LOVE PRODIGAL SELF thank you for introducing me to this song its rly my vibe OOOUHHH. Sleeplessness so rreeeal. Darkness. MMMMM.

Hidden place is so smeggzee...MMMMM. OMG THE FINGERS GIVEN TO TOUCH W LINE MC moment real....kept in a hidden place be careful. SOOO REAL.

HAWLLLYY SHIT IM OBSESSED W THESE LINES AAARRRGGHH SHAKIJG MY CAGE RATTLING IT CHEWING ON THE BARS GOING FERAL

He's the beautifullest, fragilest Still strong, dark and divine And the littleness of his movements Hides himself He invents a charm that makes him invisible Hides in the hair Can I hide there too? Hide in the hair of him Seek solace Sanctuary

IM CRAZY!! IM CRAAAZY!!!! I GO INSANE OVER THESE FUCKING LYRICS [SHAKES YOU BY THE SHOULDERS] MUSA U R SO INSANE (/pos) FOR THIS IM GOING INSANE THESE LYRICS AAURGEHHRHHRGRGGRGRGEGRGGRHRHRHRHRHRHRHR IM GOING CRAAAZYZYYZZYZYZYZYYZYZYZ

An echo a stain....the vibes of this song OOUUUUUU sexy sinister....MMMMM.

Don't say no to me You can't say no to me I won't see you Denied I'm sorry you saw that I'm sorry he did it An echo A stain A stain I can't say no to you (I can't say no to you) Say nothing Free falling Complete

Those last two lines SCARY AS FUCKCKKCKCKKKC GOD I FUCKING LOVE IT MMMMM NOMNOMONOM DRINKS THIS POURS THIS DOWN MY THROAT THATS GOOD GOURMET MUSICS.

Now the seer......

What is human? Is there really nothing but seeing or seen? The voice is wordless tissue The fog from Heart of Glass Listen to the lips that feed you The voice is a second flesh that cannot be seen This body is not for vision The seer cannot go there But the tongue is a pawn for the restless An indecipherable alphabet Each word an eye, lidless And we speak in tongues from part to part Broke, broke part to part From invisible state to invisible state to invisible state To invisible state Where do I end? In the flames or in the ashes? Where do I end? My body is the end My body is the end My body is the end

Now i wont pretend my dumb ass understands what the lyrics are actually saying so im just taking what my bumbling ass sees.

Taking "this body is not for vision" with the voice being "wordless tissue," makes me think of Leander's use of his body. For all his mental games he's also very physical in the way that he just uses it as a tool. "He works hard and parties harder," doesn't like naps, and his eyebags scream he doesn't sleep well either. He's a manwhore. He uses his body a lot. He probably uses his body to seduce not just for the sake of sex itself but also the added bonus of getting to know someone better (information is currency hurr) and gain someone's favor or something. But there is no seeing him. He's masked. Who even really knows each other in this game lmao? The only one doing the seeing here is him. "Each word, a lidless eye."

Goes with "but the tongue is a pawn for the restless." Wow that guy sure is restless and likes to manipulate people with words and convincing and drinks doesn't he. "Fog from the heart of glass" makes me think of a fog obscuring the heart.

"Listen to the lips that feed you." "I can keep you safe, as long as you trust me." There we go again with Leander's paternalistic, watchful-eye vibe.

"An indecipherable alphabet." Idk i like thinking of this with Vere's "His nice guy act is bullshit" lol. He may be speaking but it's coming from the ass. Indecipherable because what he says is just bullshit, empty flattery to get his way.

"And we speak in tongues from part to part. Broke, broke part to part. From invisible state to invisible state to invisible state. To invisible state." IDK what this actually means but I'm taking this as how his identity is in pieces. He reconstructs himself, breaking off the pieces he doesn't like and hiding them while he speaks from the parts he wants you to see. Invisibility, hiding the true, whole image of him. Like a puzzle with missing pieces. You're not seeing all of him. His visage fractured. You get it. I just like rambling.

"Where do I end? In the flames or in the ashes? Where do I end? My body is the end. My body is the end. My body is the end." Ha hoo. Ahh. Endings. Flames and ashes of extermination (though can also be rebirth). My body is the end. I don't know. Thinking of his like of masquerades. The hiding is something he likes, maybe not just because it's something he feels he has to do but also because he's "happy" with it. The perfect (constructed) image of himself. Iunno. Perhaps he wants to die being unknown. In the flesh of the body he uses as a tool. Maybe he wants to die in his facade. [Head in hands.]

I know you translated and expanded seni düşünmek on another ask, so I'll write my thoughts on it on that ask.

No light, no light....

yeah thats good

Would you leave me If I told you what I've done? And would you leave me If I told you what I've become? 'Cause it's so easy To say it to a crowd But it's so hard, my love To say it to you out loud

You can't choose what stays and what fades away And I'd do anything to make you stay

hhrhghrhghrghrgrkgkgkgkgkgkgkhhghhghghghrhrhrhhrrghgkkrgkghrkghh. its fine. im cool.

You want a revelation You want to get right But it's a conversation I just can't have tonight You want a revelation Some kind of resolution Tell me what you want me to say

IMMMMMMMMMMMM FUCKING GGGGG GGGGGG FFFIIINNEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the way this song can also be a kuras song omfg. AAAAAAUUUUUUUURGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

hamlet got me reading abt the play and went on a whole ride about it. that was fun thank you.

[rvmmm21]

hii! i've been reading your work ever since 2020 and couldnt stop since then! your writting is so good, you never cease to amaze me <3 i have a request, if this isnt much trouble! yandere!joy and wendy, in a school setting? a teacherxstudent one if its ok, but whichever you'd like to do it's ok! have a nice day

with that wendy profile pic and handle? i just have to oblige.

tw : age gap, obsessive behaviour, non-con sedation.

– – – – –

It could be different… if Son Seungwan was just a few years younger. No one would bat an eye if they walked down the halls hand in hand, if they sat next to each other in the cafeteria or if they walked home together.

Being a couple in college is nothing to shake a stick at.

But Seungwan is a teacher–– which puts her in a position of power, of guidance and imbalance. She can’t take advantage of her star-student; poor, defenceless Park Sooyoung. Pretty and intoxicating and charismatic as she is, it’s just wrong. And even if she’s just freshly eighteen, Seungwan would never jeopardise her students like that. 

So she’s in an understandably tight spot when she packs up after a class one day, turning to leave when she’s stopped by Sooyoung blocking the doorway, fingers fidgeting behind her back and a sing-song “Seonsengnimmm~” lingering off pink candy lips.

The English literacy teacher gulps but smiles kindly. “Can I help you, Sooyoung?”

She’s not prepared to be backed up against her own desk, nothing but the thin folder she’s holding up like a shield stopping the younger girl from leaning in to ruin her right there. 

“No seonsengnim, can I help you?”

– – – – –

Park Sooyoung is an unpredictable one, at best. 

She can do things like find out when and where she takes her lunch breaks, then Seungwan will find herself ambushed and cornered by an innocent student whispering dirty things in her ear. But then it’s a complete behavioural switch when said student is around her friends. Suddenly, she’s so young, so awkward and so quick to blush and stutter if they happen to catch each other’s eyes during class or in the halls. 

And it’s when Seungwan returns home to her wife, confused and upset by the mystery bouquet of flowers and love letter with no sender that she realises this may not just be a ‘harmless’ puppy crush. It’s not something she can joke about with her colleagues in their tea room, the pages she finds on her desk detailing all the perverted, intense, sinful things Sooyoung would do to her if she ever got her alone. She’s almost scared to walk out to her car for fear of running into the student who seems to have hours to spend waiting in the car park just for a chance to wave her goodbye or slip in a ‘friendly’ conversation with her for a second or two. 

Questions on Shakespeare and essay formatting are okay, but Seungwan had to put her foot down when Sooyoung starts asking her about her home life, her sex life… her kinks. She’s tolerated far too much, been exceptionally patient with the suggestive smirks thrown her way, the feeling of eyes trailing down her blouse buttons when she hands out worksheets. 

And god help her if she ever stays back even a minute after all the other students have left. There’s a blind spot right behind the white board. It’s Sooyoung's favourite place to get her. No cameras–– no evidence that Seungwan isn’t the one initiating all this. 

Seungwan’s shivers grate the rough plaster wall she’s pressed against as a much taller, much more menacing shadow engulfs her. Sooyoung’s growl deepens as she closes in on her helpless teacher, one hand in her pocket and one now closing into a fistful of the front of that flimsy satin blouse she’s done nothing but tease her in. That’s the only reason she wears such clothes, isn’t it? She’s just begging to have them ripped right off. 

The most harrowing part about this is that Sooyoung won’t stop talking about how they’re both going to be together forever. Their love is written in the stars, they’re soulmates. 

“S-Sooyoung this is out of line,” Seungwan asserts, trying to ignore the irritating glitch clouding her mind. “This has gone– gone too far. I’m… I’m going to have to repor–”

“Did you enjoy your coffee today, seonsengnim?”

Coffee? How the hell does she know she had– 

A hazy blur of monochrome clashes in Seungwan’s vision, her thoughts waning into the distance. Her tongue is numb now. It’s there, but she can’t feel it when she opens her mouth anymore. “You– what did you–” she pants, now having no choice but to lean into Sooyoung’s chest for support.

“I’m taking care of you, of course. You lead a busy life, seonsengnim. I worry about you too much to let you out of my sight for even a minute.”

“S-Sooyoung–”

“And you haven’t made it easy for me, have you? Going home to that small apartment that I had to spend weeks locating. Closing the blinds at night… letting that bitch use you in bed, take advantage of you.”

“Sooyoung, s-stop… this is–”

Sooyoung brings her fingers up to the older woman’s throat, squeezing until she hears that adorable, breathless little gasp. “You’ve been naughty, hm? Holding out on me, trying to avoid us. But don’t worry– unnie– I have plans for you. And you’re going to love them, you’re going to love me.” 

In a vain attempt to fight back, Seungwan tries to lift her arm up to grab at Sooyoung’s wrist. But the student grabs hers first, using her wasted momentum to pull her flush against her front, Seungwan’s weak struggles only encouraging her to wrap a protective arm around her waist.

Sooyoung so loves having her lover subdued and docile, like she’s a little hamster chewing at the bars of its cage.

Seungwan’s mind quickly becomes too much of a burden to carry, and Sooyoung is ever quick to draw one last helpless whimper from her, pressing her lips to the underside of her jaw, mouthing along the exposed skin of her throat. 

“Give in, unnie. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

[oksana-moods]

Ghost of you - Part 5

Summary: When your answers doesn’t fill in the blanks properly, the only option is to move forward. A/N: Two in a row, ‘cause I’m nice like that. Thanks for those who left comments and likes, reblogged and gave me any kind of support. You’re amazing! I mentioned that this would be slow burn, right? Trigger Warnings: Violence, language, mentions of death… If you find others, let me know.

“And all the things that you never ever told me.”

My encounter with Fury left me felling scarred and open. I knew a name; I knew who I used to be. I knew things about me, but they felt so foreign, like they belonged to someone else. Maybe, because it did. I wasn’t Lara, but was I Ghost? Later that night, I was assaulted with the woman’s… no, Carol’s crash, Carol going away scenes once again. My head was an utterly turmoil.   It became obvious that my memory from Carol leaving, our brake-up, came after the accident and not in the sequence that Hydra played in my mind. Bastards. They led me to believe that I was useless. That all I was authorized to feel was void, emptiness. What did I feel, now? Besides this rage masquerade as fire, what was left to feel? What was permitted?

I looked at the door as soon as I heard the locks. Romanoff enters my accommodation and I get up, not too fast to not startle her. “Miss Romanoff, fancy seeing you here without bodyguards.” She glares at me. “Thought didn’t worth the effort to protect them.” She’s flashes me a tide smile. “It came to my attention that you’ve met Fury.” I nod. “So, how should I call you now?”  She takes two steps closer and leans at the table. “Lara? Or do you still prefer Ghost? I shrug “All of them makes me uneasy. None of them seem to fit.” “Hm. Maverick then.” “I never said that this one was good either.” “Well, we need to call you somehow.”  A grin is scaping her lips. “We?”  I blinked and she was looking at me from the door frame. “Come. I’m afraid that you’re starting to rust.”

Agent Romanoff didn’t want revenge, but she definitely wanted payback. And God, that woman is almost too fast for me to keep up. Almost. After being in my accommodation for so long, I was indeed a bit rusted. However, my muscles loved the exercise, and it did wonders to my brain. Fighting against such good opponent kept me focused on our spar. First time in days that I stop to think and overthink about my misery. Romanoff came with one of those Widow’s combos that I menage to dodge and block a few, but one kick reached my shoulder while her elbow found my temples.

All of a sudden, I’m standing in a bar. My mind’s eye was caught in something like a foggy screen and oh my, is this a memory? I had a drink in my hand while the other one was resting in a sling. I was feeling like shit, so much sorrow coursing through me, all I could… I feel a slap in my good shoulder. I look up to see a tall man offering me a pool cue. ‘Come, the winner gets free beers.’  I look at my drink while I say. ‘Thanks, I’m good. I’m not in the mood.’ He nudges me. What part of mood, he didn’t catch? He speaks. ‘Oh c’mon, Mav. Danvers’s accident is tragic and all, but c’mon… or are you just sad about your injured arm?’ Fire starts to spread throughout my chest. ‘Excuse me?’ He leans in the counter. ‘Look, all I’m saying is that you guys weren’t even friends, none of us were. She was too cocky. Guess Miss goody two shoes couldn’t even drive a car, let alone fly a jet.’ The fire was consuming, was bursting out of me until it reached its peak. Complete forgetting about the sling, my hand moved to the back of his head so, so fast. Next thing I knew, I was knocking his head in the counter. He looks up with his nose covered in blood. ‘Bitch!’ He charged at me. He knocked me down and my head hit the floor, but I needed to put this fire out, I wouldn’t stop now, I needed to vent my rage. I failed in protecting her from dying, but I sure won’t fail in protecting her memory from this scum. After exchanging punches and kicks, I held him in a chokehold. ‘Never, and I do mean never talk about her like this, Specht.’ I looked up to see an audience. ‘I’ll kill anyone of you who dares to speak of her.’ I let go of him and left the bar. When reality finds me again, the first thing to reach my ears is Romanoff’s voice. “Maverick, are you alright?” “Yeah, I’m good. Why?”  She scoffs. “I hit your head and then you stop fighting, kept looking nowhere, like in a trance.” “Oh. I… I’m sorry.” Her voice is softer when she speaks again. “What happened? Do you need me to call, Bruce or Dr. Cho?” “What? No, no. I’m fine. It’s just… I had a vision, I don’t know.” I rub my temples to ease the pain in my head. “I think that I saw a memory, after you hit me, in a moment I was here sparing with you and the next I was in a bar having a bar fight with a man.” “You were a fighter even before, huh?” She joked and I shrugged. “Are this visions or memories assaults a common thing?” I frown trying to make it simpler. “I’ve never had another memory except being left behind and the Crash in a loop. Guess I’m just confused. Do I need specific triggers to remember things or is this my brain fighting Hydra’s brainwashing?” She gives me a look that I can’t decipher. “I’m sorry all of this happened to you. Let us help you.” “Help? With what? Will you guys erase my memory again?” “How long will take for you to start to trust us? We won’t hurt you.” Trust? Her question caught me off guard. How can I trust, when I don’t know what trust is? “I want to believe in you but all that I know is Hydra. Guess I’m afraid of this being just smoke and mirrors.” Her brows were so furrowed that probably hurts. “It’s not. And I’m here to help.” I narrow my eyes at her “Why are you being nice to me?” I open my arms to show the sparing room “Bringing me here, offering help… I’m the enemy, Miss Romanoff.” She shakes her head. “No. You were a victim who were weaponized, yes. Nothing, but another casualty.” I’m still not convinced, and she knows. “Look, Fury trusts you and I trust Fury. Remember all those Hydra’s bases and facilities that you gave us?” I nodded. “We paid a visit to a few of them, the intel you gave us matched so far.” “Does this mean you’ll let me go?” I asked. “Do you really think that you would be safe out there?” Her green orbs are boring into mine. I sign, looking away. “Stark’s Tower is one of the safest buildings in this world.” “Then, what are we?” What am I, prisoner with benefits? A smirk makes its way to her lips. “The enemy of my enemy…”

 Surprisingly enough, Romanoff led me to the tower’s kitchen and offered me a sandwich for lunch. I’m a bit uneasy with this interaction, don’t know how to act, don’t know what to expect. I take my surroundings to mentally calculate an escape route, she knows the place, but I believe that I could fight with her if she tries to kill me with a butterknife. She doesn’t try to make small talk and I’m glad. To fight, survive and punishments are the only interactions that I’m used to. I don’t know how to function in a normal life, if that exists.

I recognize a newcomer, Captain America in all his glory. Romanoff puts a plate in front of me while speaks. “Hi, Cap. Joining us for lunch?” “What is she doing here, Natasha?” “Everything she told us matched so far, Fury trusts her. Since she’s helping us against Hydra, I’m willing to give her the benefit of doubt.” “If Black Widow is willing to trust you...” He offered his hand for me to shake. “I’m Steve Rogers. Captain America if you will.” I took his hand in mine. “It’s a pleasure, Sir. I’m… hm.” I let go of his hand, suddenly I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. “I don’t know how to introduce myself.” A humorless smile grace my lips. “Guess Hydra never taught me that part.” “I think we should call her by her call sign. Maverick.”  Widow supplies With a shrug, Rogers says. “It’s catchy. And if I called you Major, you’d outrank me.” He whispers the last part “I wouldn’t like that; Tony could use you against me.” The Redhead sitting next to me let out a heartly laugh which is soon joined by Rogers’s and I’m mesmerized. So, this is how people function in daily basis. I always wondered if being caged in a dark room waiting to be called for missions was only my reality or everyone’s. Guess that seeing them here, so relaxed having a meal in a wide kitchen with a meaningless conversation was answer enough. I’m amazed how light, how comfortable they seemed to be with each other. I wonder…

“Mav?” I’m brought out of my reverie by Romanoff’s voice. “Sorry, what?” “I said that your intel about anti-aircraft weapons were crucial to help us reach Hydra’s bases unscathed” Rogers says. “Didn’t thought they would have so many.” “As I told miss Romanoff before, everyone was paranoid. Even with all the guns, defenses, and secret locations. Nothing could ease their fear. Now I know that they were afraid of you.” I chewed a bit. “Have you guys closed all the ones I gave you, already?” “Not yet. We’re looking for something. So, we’re choosing our targets according with your intel and ours.” I looked at him. “What are you looking for?” This was a sensitive subject, if his subtle shift was any indication. He was uneasy to share this with me. Couldn’t blame him, though, I was still enemy. An acquaintance enemy, but still. “It’s a high-tech device. Extremely dangerous, especially in their hands.” I didn’t miss the way he chose the word ‘their’ indicating that I wasn’t part of ‘them’ and I appreciated the gesture. This device tough… “There is a lot of facilities build for experiments. Those were the ones always exchanging data, research, personnel…” I was deep in thought. “But there was this one in Sokovia. They were always asking for more subjects, or volunteers as they called.” I wet my lips. “I was ordered to be the stealthier that I could, my hole unit stayed there. I was the only one to come back.” I looked up to him.  “Have you guys tried that one, yet?” “Sokovia?” He repeated. “No, there’s little to none about Sokovia in our files. Isn’t an old building with ancient, abandoned equipment and vehicles?” “There’s nothing old and abandoned in Sokovia, mister Rogers.” I rest my fork in my empty plate. “On the contrary, they are the busiest. They’re just keeping an incredible low profile.” He turns to Romanoff. “Nat, contact the team. We’re going on a trip.” “Don’t forget your jacket.”

--------------- 

Apparently, Sokovia was a huge success with a very big H, because I was invited to a party, by Tony Stark himself. Now, my dilemma was increased, if I didn’t know how to act in a simple conversation. How do they expect me to function in a party, with their friends and a lot of them knows who I am. Plus, I’ve never been in a party. This is bound to be a disaster.

Yep. I was right. There was a crazy robot giving a speech about Avengers being nothing more than killers. Then, all hell broke loose. I’m fighting killer robots in a fancy party room. Without thinking, miss Hill handled me a gun. Guess that ‘the enemy of my enemy’ is really a thing around here. In the end, my metal arm did more damage. As soon as Thor’s hammer crashed the last robot, the party was over.

[hitsuackerman]

Why Did It Have to be Him? pt. 4 (Aizawa x Reader)

a/n: sorry this got delayed :( this was supposed to be uploaded a lot earlier but then my laptop is basically dead at this point huhuhu legit waited for 30mins just for the chrome to stop lagging T.T welp... thank quirks for company laptops XD

that being said... here is part 4 for our Daddyzawa! <3

ps. i had to put an age for this fic :3 so you are 17 as the rest are 16 xD

Warnings: Student-Teacher relationship, Age-gap, Cursing, Not so subtle flirting

Link: Part 1, Part 2, part 3, part 5

Materlist for my other fics :) here

All aboard the Aizawa-train!: @yukiimanic​ @leeeah-loooser​

A few days have passed and you were now fully settled in your dorm. There wasn’t much to it but Aizawa managed to persuade you to buy new sheets and curtains to match. You weren’t exactly sure why but you complied nonetheless.

Monochromatic that’s how you liked things. Since he gave you full control as to what colors you could choose, you simply went for black.Of course, you made sure that a pop of color would add life to your room. A few trinkets here and there, your room looked good to go. Simplicity is key, that’s what you kept reminding yourself.

But it was rather ironic how your “love life” wasn’t as simple. It was much easier to see him back in your house. Now that you were living only a mere block away from the teacher’s dorm, it only made things much harder. Though, you understood, it was still frustrating not being able to see him as much as you wanted.

While doing your assignments, your phone rang. Not bothering to see who the caller was, you picked it up. Slowly, the corners of your mouth turned upwards. Right on schedule.

“Not disturbing anything, am I?” He asked. In the background, you could hear the keyboard’s soft tapping.

“Nope. I’m just about finished here.” Gathering your books and papers, you neatly stacked and put them away. Looking at the time, there was still 45 minutes before curfew starts. “I am hungry though, so I might have to run to the nearest convenient store~”

“Isn’t the fridge stacked with snacks, though?” The typing sounds had stopped and you heard a soft grunt.

“It is but they don’t have those juice packs I like.” There was some risk to this but you wanted to see him. It was hard enough that all you could do inside the classroom was to sit and stare at him. “Of course, I’m not implying anything. I do plan on leaving in about 5 minutes or so.”

“Do as you please, (Y/N).” He let out a soft chuckle before hanging up the call.

Grabbing your sweatshirt and wallet, you silently exited your room. Thankfully, the majority of rooms had their lights on. And, technically, it wasn’t curfew so you could still manage to buy a few snacks the dorm’s fridge had to offer. Shaking your head, you knew you couldn’t fool yourself.

Ever since the kiss, he became even more intoxicating. His musky scent and how you felt his arms wrapping around your small stature (compared to his at least) was addicting. It was a picture hard to forget, him straddling you in the comforts of your bed. The strands of his soft hair caging you from the outside world. Or maybe it was how his hot breath brushed your cheeks that made things even more irresistible? Closing the doors to the building, you were met with the row of streetlights. Each of them casting enough light to ensure safety to those who would walk the streets at this time of night. Of course, everyone knew this area was safe, afterall, only an idiot villain would dare attack near UA.

A little further and you could see the neon sign of the convenience store. Near the entrance, a man caught your eye. He was wearing an all black ensemble and his grayish pale skin made him look unreal. Yet, the all too familiar bun caused your heart to race.

Upon seeing your figure approaching his, he could feel the smirk forming on his mouth. It had only been a few hours since he last saw you but it was inside classroom settings. The secret glances you two would give each other was fun but he somehow wanted more. When you passed by him, he could make out the faint smell of your lingering body lotion. Very stimulating to the senses.

Trailing behind you, his eyes began to linger all over your back. Sure, you had a sweatshirt on but in his eyes you looked too good not to hug. When you turned towards the small aisle for chips, he glanced at the ceiling. The cameras were on the other side of the store. As you were choosing what junk to munch on, he leaned forward and rested his head on your shoulder.

Jumping at the sudden sensation of his warmth radiating on your cheek, all the heat travelled upwards as your eyes met his. The dullness to them now replaced with a hint of playfulness. His calloused hand began to brush yours. Slowly making their way up before he let go to grab a bag for himself.

Once again, your stomach felt all the butterflies going crazy with his touch. Chewing on your lower lip, you let out a shaky sigh as he lifted his head. Slowly walking away without looking back.

Such a tease.

Two can play that little game, you thought.

Aizawa made his way towards the refreshments. Searching for the perfect drink to pair with his chips, he settled for a can of beer. It wasn’t allowed but he could easily sneak it in knowing it was almost curfew. In his peripheral version, he could see you choosing as well. Following your hands, he saw how you had just chosen a can of soda.

“Got everything you need?” He asked.

“Not yet. I need some chocolate.” Pulling him towards the aisle with chocolates, you saw your target. The one you had been craving for a week now. Scanning the area, you saw how the coast was clear and it was your turn to make your move. “Hey, can you hold these for a sec?”

Handing him your stuff, you turned around and began to tug on the hems of your sweatshirt. His eyebrows jumped at your small actions. When you began to strip off your sweatshirt. The heavy material lifted your undershirt quite a bit. A bit of your skin got exposed to the coldness the store had to offer.

The coldness had no effect on Aizawa. Instead, he felt heat growing in his system. His mouth suddenly felt dry. His finger twitched and his jaw clenched. The hold he had on the goods tightened. Upon seeing you bend down to grab a bar of chocolate, the neckline of your shirt was big enough to expose the black strap of your bra.

‘Behave, Shota.’ His mind scolded him. ‘This is the only line you should NOT cross. At least not yet.’

Through your peripheral vision, you could see just how much your plan had worked. His squinted eyes only gave away his deposition. Flicking your hair just as you faced him, you caught a hold of his stare and blinked innocently.

“What’s wrong,” You took a step forward as you got a hold of your things. “Shota?”

His eyebrow jerked and his mouth was now a desert. Not wanting for things to get out of hand, he walked past you and made his way to the counter. Every ounce of his concentration focused on not pinning you against the wall and giving the cashier a show. Biting the corner of his tongue he paid for his purchase and waited outside as you paid for yours.

“You okay, sensei?” The last word was rather breathy, just as you intended it to be. Seeing him controlling himself was rather fun. He was struggling and the signs were very subtle. The only thing giving him away were his twitching eyes and furrowed brows.

Grabbing the bag of food from you, he led the way back to campus grounds. His eyes scanning the area and taking note of the small cameras set up on the street lights. The both of you were now approaching a blind spot. Letting out a rather long sigh, he held on to your wrist and pulled you into the dimly lit area.

“Be quiet.” Aizawa instructed.

Your eyes widened as you began to realize what he was planning on doing. The cameras would surely pick all of that up but then again, if he knew the area well then it should be fine. Heart now racing, you chewed on your inner cheek as the both of you were now approaching the blind spot. The small alcove one of the buildings had.

Things were now a blur.

The small squeak that escaped your mouth as your back hit the wall was immediately muted when his lips crashed into yours. Literally taking your breath away, you eased into the kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled the elastic band from his hair. On your tiptoes, you leaned on to his torso for support. Your knees were now barely functioning.

Knowing what was running through your thoughts, he bent down a little. His hands held tracing whatever curves your body had to offer. When you began to nibble on his lip, his hand grabbed your knee pit and lifted you. More than happy that you instantly clung your legs around his waist.

Tugging on his hair, he accidentally let out a small groan. Feeling your soft lips making their way towards his neck sent was enough for him to tighten his hold on you. The sucking sensation that followed made his member twitch and his pants tighten. A chill ran down his spine when your tongue trailed its way up to his jaw.

“Fuck...” He growled once your noses were touching once more. Running his tongue across your lip, you parted your mouth to give him entry. Tugging on your lower lip, he went back in with a much more long and thorough kiss. When he parted his lips from yours, his hot citrusy breath brushed your face. “Don’t tease me unless you know what you want, kitten.”

“Oops.” You brushed your nose against his. Your heavy lidded eyes hazy with need. The way he gave you a pet name hit differently. “My bad~”

The tips of his lips began to travel down your neck. Using his nose to move the neckline of your shirt, he licked a patch of your skin before biting on to it. The small moan echoing in his ears made curious. What other sounds could he make you do if he were given the chance?

‘This isn’t the right place, Shota.’ Once again his thoughts managed to save him from moving any further.

Pecking your lips once more, he put you down and patted your head. Despite the dimness, he could still see how flushed you were. Fixing himself, he looked at his watch and gestured that it was time to head back.

“Just in time for curfew~” You teased. “I won’t get in trouble now, right?”

“(Y/N).” He brushed his fingers with yours. The short contact the both of you shared was something his body still yearned for. “You are aware that you're still 17 right?”

“Yes.” Your step still had a certain hop to them. “And I’m aware that my birthday is coming up.”

“I’m not implying anything.” He handed your bag of food. Now giving a safe distance between you two. “I just want us to be careful. You’re still young.”

“Are you doubting?” The slight sadness in your voice was something you couldn’t hold back. “If it clears things up, I really am serious about you. I was shocked but elated that you were more than willing to try if things would work out. But, if you really don’t want to do this then I’ll back out. At least it’s still early and won’t hurt as much.”

“I never said I didn’t want to do it.” He stated. “What happened back there, I almost got carried away. I wouldn’t want you to regret this or… us.”

“Us?” The smile on your face was rather adorable for him. You felt your cheeks heating up at the confirmation that there really is something between you two and that it wasn’t just you carrying the feelings.

Lifting the corners of his mouth, he patted your head once more before picking his pace up. Ready to head back to the teacher’s dorms.

“Wait for my call later,” He glanced at you over his shoulder. A smirk on his face. “Kitten.”

“That I will, Aizawa-sensei.” You replied with a huge smile on your face.

Running back to the dorms, you carefully opened the doors. Making sure that no one was around, you snuck across the hall and took the stairs. The dimly lit hallway towards your room made things easier.

Moments later, you were now munching on chips. Your phone rang and for the rest of the night, till one of you finally caved in to slumber, Aizawa and you spent it on talking about whatever topics came to your mind.

At the end of call, both of you agreed that convenience stores would now be a recurring thing.

- - - - -

if you want to be tagged in part 5 :) feel free to leave a comment :)

[hopelikethemoon]

after the storm (Ezra x Reader) [smut]

title: after the storm rating: explicit  length: 3,600 warnings: angst, smut (female receiving oral, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex) notes: set after Prospect, dedicated to the queen of Ezra (as I have decreed it) @rzrcrst​. gif stolen from @lucy-sky​

Six years ago an arrangement was made. The casual sort of arrangement that comes about after a long night of drinking refined Jeev polish and falling into bed with the one constant in your life. 

You’ve known Ezra since the start of your prospecting career; when you were wide-eyed and green behind the ears and he was too damn cocky for his own good. You’d always had a little crush on him — how could you not? He’s handsome, rugged, charming, and his tongue can cut and soothe. 

You overlook the fact that he held a blaster to your temple on your first expedition. As it was, a few hours later Ezra learned that turnabout’s fair play when you pinned him down and stole his cache. That, you’re certain, was the moment he developed his own brand of infatuation with you. After that, there was always a heat in his eyes that scorched you. That made desire bloom within your soul. 

That look (and the Jeev polish) was what led you into his bed. You can’t forget the way his mouth feels against your skin, the texture of his hair between your fingers, the poetry he writes with his tongue between your thighs. You promise each other, then and there, in the hazy morning glow of twin suns, you’ll make time for this. To explore this connection further. 

But the nature of prospecting means you’re pulled to opposite sides of the galaxy frequently and without reason. It’s one of Keeva’s small miracles that you cross paths at all. You try to keep yourself clean; legitimate ventures on well-turned planets — while Ezra skirts around criminality in the furthest, vilest regions. 

Genuine connections are rare in your line of work. Everyone is out for themselves. In it to win it — with or without a little backstabbing along the way. Sometimes you question whether the connection you formed with Ezra was even genuine. It eats at you when you’re floating through the black; in the long expanses of loneliness between serendipitous moments with him. You forget the way flecks of light play in his dark eyes, the curl of his lips as he lazily smirks, the warmth of his voice when he’s murmuring to you. It feels like more than a passing arrangement. 

If only it were possible to pin him down. But he’s a bird you refuse to cage, so you let him go and hope he’ll come back to you when he’s ready. You cling to the fleeting moments; no more than a week strung together with the stolen nights dotted across five years. Like stars on a dark night — fleeting bright spots that were already fading the moment that they’re seen. 

You haven’t seen him in a year. You look for him at every bustling port, pore over ship-out lists on wayward adventures — hoping to see his name among them. You fear the worse as your hope wanes. He’s absent from his usual haunts, his name omitted from familiar voyages. No one has seen or heard of him in months. 

He’s dead. That’s the only event that would drive him out of the game. He’s dead or dying or simply gone. 

It burns you alive at night when your emotions get the best of you. Because you never told him how you felt. Never confessed that you lived for nights shared with him. That you looked for him wherever you went, that no one compared to him. That you had carried the burden of long-suffering affection despite fears that he would never feel the same way in return. 

He comes to you in dreams. Distant recollections like ghosts that cling to your skin in the morning. You miss the warmth of his body beside yours, a gift you only knew a half-dozen times. You wish you could pull on that feeling like an old well-loved shirt. But his memory is as fleeting as the moments you shared with him. Your recollection of him is slipping through your fingers. 

You’ll never see him again. You convince yourself that he is gone, his body reclaimed by the distant forests he traversed, reduced to merely nutrients that will feed new minerals to harvest. He’d laugh at that thought — you can almost imagine how he’d react to that. But you can’t remember the exact timber of his voice anymore and his response is silent as it slips past lips that fade from your mind’s eye.

There’s a hole-in-the-wall cantina on Vector 7B, it’s the birthplace of your arrangement with Ezra. There are strangers sitting in the round booth in the back of the crowded bar — strangers laughing and carousing in the booth where Ezra once sat. Can you still remember the weight of his hand as it rested on yours beneath the table? How did his lips feel when they first brushed against yours?

You tear your eyes away from the booth, lost in thought and comforted by phantoms of the past. As you turn back towards the bar, you doubt yourself. The phantom is there — sitting at the bar; made of blood and bone and the breath of life. He is travel-worn and weary, the weight of the galaxy rests on his shoulders. He hasn’t seen you yet, or if he has he pretends he hasn’t. 

His left hand curls around the copper cup of polish and your brows furrow. In all the moments you’ve played back in your mind, you’ve never once recalled him favoring his left hand. Faded memories return in flashes — his left hand had found your leg beneath the table while his right curled around his drink. 

It’s not him. 

The phantom turns, keenly aware of a stranger’s eyes on him. Only, neither of you are strangers. It is Ezra. Your eyes find that ridiculous patch of blonde among his tousled chestnut hair, before settling on his dark and stormy gaze. 

Your legs carry you towards him, fingers shaking as you rest them against the bar beside him. “Hey.” You offer casually, chest tight with anxiety. 

“I feared my prolonged absence would render our arrangement obsolete, little bird.” He murmured, reigniting something deep within your soul. His voice was warm, a balm that soothed worries, ushering them out the door. 

“Impossible.” You assured him, chewing on your bottom lip as you looked away from him in search of the bartender. “I’ll have what he’s having.” You remarked cooly, before leaning an elbow against the bar as you angled yourself towards Ezra. 

There’s always been an undercurrent of the morose about him. A looming darkness that settles just beneath the surface. But he masks it well with colorful prose, the charming curl of his lips, and the smooth comfort of his accent. It’s not until your eyes wander from his face that you realize why he’s holding his cup with his left hand. 

“Ezra—”

“Don’t.” He says with a short jerk of his head. “How have you been, little bird? It’s been nearly a lifetime since we crossed paths.” 

You pull your eyes away from his missing limb and stare at his face. “Not for a lack of trying. I looked for you.” You confessed, disregarding fears that you might sound needy. It’s always been casual, this thing between you. It only happens if you cross paths by happenstance, not if you force it into existence. 

He hums thoughtfully and the silence that settles leaves you feeling like your confession is tantamount to a sin. Had he intended to see this arrangement left to the past? A thought crosses your mind, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. What if he hadn’t thought of you the way you longed for him? 

“I’m sorry.” You offer quietly, grabbing your drink off the bar as you start to slip away from him. Are you sorry you found him? Sorry you looked for him? Sorry that he’s not a phantom you can wistfully mourn over? 

“Wait.” 

You falter, half-tempted to keep your forward momentum. You glance back at him, brows furrowed. 

“Stay?”

You return to the bar, perching on the stool beside him. Ezra is never as quiet as he is tonight. Even on the bleakest days, he finds reason to speak. Whether it’s technobabble about some new device he’s encountered or tall tales from past voyages. He finds a reason to fill the silence, not let it hang between you in frozen suspension. 

“Tread lightly,” Ezra starts abruptly, dragging his fingers through his hair as he settles you with a look. “Keeva has chosen to remind me that I am merely a mortal, subject to the same weary tolls as the lot of them.” He jerks his head towards the other bar patrons. “I loathe the thought of departing from here into another night of solace in the inky black.” 

Your heart stutters as you stare at him, pulse thrumming in your ears. His earnestness gives you pause. His arm is not the only loss he’s suffered. There’s something less about him, something you overlooked in your haste to remember him.

“Little bird, do not claim to have looked for me if you only intend to release me at dawn break.” Ezra’s shoulders sag as he sighs wearily, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Spare me the allusion of forthright promises.” 

“Ezra,” You start, reaching out to rest your hand on his forearm. Your touch is light, afraid to startle him out of your grasp. “Any promises I intend to make, I intend to keep.” You offer him a small smile as you study his pained expression. “I missed you.” 

“And I you.” He carefully moves his arm beneath your touch, until his hand wraps around your own. You had forgotten how perfectly they fit together, they tingle that plays through you as his fingers glide between yours. “The Green tried to claim me. But how could it, when I was already claimed by another?”

The noise of the cantina around you fades away, the edges of your vision blurring so that all you see is him. This specter that has haunted your every moment. You can feel his pulse beneath the tightening grip of your hand. “By who?” 

Ezra’s lips part with the faintest wry grin. “By you, little bird.” 

You nearly knock the barstool over in your pursuit to kiss him. Your feet barely hit the ground as you throw all sense of decorum to the wind. You cradle his jaw as you bridge the distance between you, making up for the lost months that kept you apart. The memories of before are slowly rebuilt in your mind with the familiar tilt of his head as his lips drag against yours. 

You lose track of time. The bar is abandoned in favor of the accommodations he’s paid for down the street — closer than your own room that’s across town. Neither of you want to waste any time reacquainting yourselves with each other. 

Layers are shedded in the haste of the moment — your layers. Ezra remains steadfastly clothed, resisting your attempts to strip away the barriers between you. The heavy fabric of his program-issued cargo pants drags against your bare thighs as he drapes himself over you, your fingers catch in the soft knit of his shirt, clinging to him as his mouth retraces familiar routes. 

Ezra maps out a galaxy of stars on your skin, featherlight kisses left on freckles and scars, blemishes that earn lavish attention from a mouth you’d nearly forgotten. You realize, as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your lower belly, that he hasn’t touched you yet. His fingers had curled around yours at the bar, but his hand has been suspiciously idle. Fingers peel away your clothes, but they never dare to brush your skin. 

That concern is fleeting, however. Your worry about the warmth of his hand is traded for overwhelming bliss of his mouth as his tongue sweeps between your slick folds. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this — your own fingers are pale imitations of what his mouth can do. He knows exactly how to feast upon you. His tongue is his most talented tool. His lips encircle that little bundle of nerves, sucking until you keen out his name. His focus shifts, thrusting his tongue into you, shallowly filling your hollow center. 

You bow up off the bed, hips grinding into his devious mouth. He already has you trembling, your cunt clenching around nothing, save for the quick press of his tongue into you. His hand finally makes contact, pressing firmly on your lower stomach to keep you pinned down to the bed. You want more.

“Ezra.” You pant out, digging your heels into the mattress as you let your legs spread wider for him. His tongue focuses on your clit with short, tight sweeps. Right as you reach the precipice of your release, he works two rough fingers into your soaking center — sliding in with familiar ease, giving you something to clench around as you come apart. 

He doesn’t relent. You expect him to, you even anticipate his movements back up the bed. Shadows of past encounters, patterns still burned into your muscles. Yet he remains between your thighs, the tip of his tongue manipulating your throbbing clit. His fingers work in and out of you, a languid pace that prolongs your orgasm. It’s too much and not enough all at once. 

His fingers stay buried within you, curved just right to make the edges of your vision fade to black. His mouth abandons your cunt, lips trailing along your inner thigh. He peppers your skin with tender kisses, before he drags his teeth over the soft flesh. He leaves tooth-shaped indents in your skin, his tongue lavishing over the marks left in his wake. 

You sink back into the mattress, chest heaving as you feel a second release building in the embers of the first that burned through you. Your body throbs in response to his every touch, to the dance of his breath over your skin, to the subtle way he flexes his fingers within you. He bites down on your inner thigh again, harder this time. He roughly strokes his thumb over your clit as he curls his fingers within you. It’s enough to set you off again. You are unashamed of the way you bend to his whims, the rush of moisture that coats his fingers. The things he can make your body do. 

You hardly recognize your voice as you croak out a broken sentence, stringing together words that beg him to give you more. You want his cock, want the weight of his body over yours, the crush of his hips grinding into yours. But he denies you of that pleasure. He kisses your cunt sweetly as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I am not worthy, little bird.” He whispers as he settles onto the mattress beside you.

Your head lolls to the side to look at him. His soft mustache, lips, and chin glisten with your arousal as he lays there — staring up at the ceiling. The two orgasms he’s pulled from you have rendered you boneless; your mind swimming with pleasure but you manage to hone in on what he’s said. Your eyes follow a path down his left arm, where his hand is wedged beneath the waist of his pants. His breath stutters, face etched with quiet focus. 

Despite how heavily you’re weighed down by satiation, you move closer to him. “Ezra, stop.” His pace falters as he turns to look at you. The storm in his eyes has returned, you swear you can see the lightning in his dark gaze. “Will you let me?”

His jaw sets hard and with a faint jerk of his head your request is acquiesced. 

You curled your legs beneath you, sitting up beside him as you reach out to open his pants. First you unfasten the belt, push the button through the hole, before dragging the zipper down. You push them open, reaching in to free his cock from his boxers. The storm is put to rest as his eyes flutter close, his head sinking back into the mattress behind him. 

He groans out something breathy that resembles your name, the only word that seems to slip from his tongue as you stroke his cock. You take your time, twisting your fingers around his shaft, your thumb dragging over the weeping head of him. You want to make him feel as good as he made you. 

You want to know why he doesn’t think he’s worthy of you. Why he lays fully dressed, while you sit bare before him. He’s hiding something from you. His arm isn’t the only loss he’s suffered. Perhaps, you realize, it’s the revelation itself. The Green tried to take his life and through that he realized that you had already laid claim to his soul. 

He comes apart in your palm, hips rocking upwards as he spills over your fingers. He’s far quieter than you’re used to. It’s been a year and a few odd months, but you still remember the litany of filthy things he’s whispered to you in the heat of the moment. Your stomach drops at the thought that he’s changed and perhaps you’ve lost that man for good. 

He seems content to fall asleep like that and it’s an exhausting uphill battle to convince him to divest himself of his clothes. You want him laid bare as you are. He complies, burrowing into the covers beside you. Still not touching you. 

Your imagined reunion stood in stark contrast with the reality. You had imagined laughter, Ezra’s arms wrapped around you, the warmth of his words soothing your longing. Instead you feel small beside him, like it’s wrong to care about him as strongly as you do. But you know the war within him is not solely bound to your existence. He is not yours to fix. 

The morning welcomes you with rain. You hear it dancing on the metal roof of the Inn, the slow drip of it from a faulty downspout outside the window. It’s comforting, strangely. All the thunder and the lightning has given way to a downpour and you’re content to get wet from it. Perhaps the rain is the reason why Ezra is still resting beside you, breathing even and expression softened by sleep. It’s his room, but you had worried that you’d wake up alone. The rain has trapped him in this room with you. 

In the bleak light of the window you can make out the ruined skin at the end of his right arm. It’s a neat enough amputation, but you know enough to know that no medical professional performed it. He lost it in the Green. He lost a lot in the Green.

“I can feel your casual attempt at scrutiny, little bird.” Ezra drawled out as his eyes slowly opened. “Forgive me if I have no desire of being cast for your pity.”

“I’m not pitying or scrutinizing you Ezra.” You hissed with more venom than you intended. “I am simply wondering what happened to you.” 

He sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he stares up at the ceiling. “I was struck down for being myself. Greed and treachery betrayed our cordial agreements.” He turns his head to look at you, brows furrowed. “Why is it that Keeva chose you? You tread a path towards righteous indignation and I wallow in the mire of deceit.”  

Ezra draws you towards him, wrapping his left arm around your waist as you lean against his chest. His breath is warm against the top of your head as he holds you. The silence is no longer oppressive — the steady beating of his heart and the pull of oxygen in and out of his chest is a comfort. 

“What happened last night?” You finally questioned, tilting your head so you could look at him.

“Oh, little bird.” Ezra sighed heavily and shook his head. “I resolved to put distance between us, to keep myself away from you. Foolhardy at best as I still managed to drag these weary bones here — with the shallow hope that you’d find me.” His eyes flickered to yours. “My soul longs for yours, but I don’t wish to taint it. To darken the brightest star in my sky.” 

You silenced him with a kiss. 

At first Ezra doesn’t respond, he remains stone-still until you shift to straddle him. Your hair tumbles in waves around his face as you lean over him. He tangles his fingers in it, clutching at the back of your head as he surges up to meet your lips. This was what you’d longed for last night; you’d touched the flames, but you hadn’t felt the fire. 

He lets you take control at first. Helps as you shove the covers down so you can wrap your fingers around his cock. Ezra roughly grasps at your breast as you sink down onto him. You’re still so sensitive from last night, but your body greedily accepts cock.

Your pace is uneven, it’s not enough. 

Ezra seizes the opportunity, ever the greedy lover. He pushes you back onto the mattress, his cock never slipping from your cunt as he moves above you. You can still hear the rain over the slap of flesh against flesh. It’s heaven to be under him again, to be full of him. He might be afraid to darken your soul, but you’ve opened the window to let the storm in. 

“Are you going to come for me, birdie?” Ezra questioned, lips dragging over your collarbone. “I long to feel your tight little cunt clutch at my cock.” His voice is nearly as rough as the pace of his hips. Raw and thick with desire. 

Your nails bit into his shoulders, into his hips. You left crescent marks on his skin in an attempt to keep him. You can feel your orgasm rising through you, your entire core is tingling with the intensity of the pleasure. 

“Fuck.” Ezra hissed out as you clenched around him. “That’s it little birdie, come for me. Let me feel you.” He lowered his voice, lips brushing against your ear. “Want you to spill all over my cock, like you came for me last night. Such a filthy little thing.” 

The rough tone of his words did you in. Your legs tightened around his hips as you came apart, your inner walls clenching around his cock as it split you open and pulled you back together. “Please.” You whispered, rocking into his driving thrusts. 

Ezra’s hips roughly pressed into yours as he buried the length of his cock within you. You could feel the throb of him as he came apart, filling you with everything he had to give. You moaned, unabashedly, dragging him down so you could kiss him. 

As you came down from the high of the moment; settled under his weight as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, you realized that the storm had passed. Maybe he wasn’t the man you first met six years ago, but he’s still the man you came to love. It’s unfair that he thinks he’s unworthy of you. So you silently vow to always remind him that the stars still shine after the storm clouds part the night sky. 

[missinghan]

dandelion ⤖ hwang hyunjin

❖ genre : strangers to lovers!au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 12,2k.

❖ warning : explicit language 

❖ summary : it’s funny how you’ve been second-guessing every single thing in life to the T but the only thing you didn’t just happens to be running after a total stranger named Hwang Hyunjin.

one.

“And that, my friend, is the end of the chapter. See, that wasn’t so hard, you just need to pay more attention to the details.” Minho shuts his textbook closed and grins at you from your laptop screen. 

Your typical Monday starts with online school and ends with Lee Minho since your non-existent brain cells furiously agree to comprehend zero ounce of what your teacher rambled about accounting. Being the sly snake that he is, Minho ‘kindly’ offered you a weekly tutor session with him. Kindly, that is. And you simply cannot see that specific word in his less than appropriate vocabulary when all he did for the past ninety minutes was repeating the same damn things that your teacher did last week. 

You groan rather quietly. “How am I supposed to pay more attention to them when they’re so fucking small ?” And you don’t even have to think twice to see that smug smile appearing on your friend’s face. 

One that pops up whenever he’s clinging onto Han Jisung’s back like the sloth that he is, one that also occurs when he’s mentally prepare himself to clapping back at you with the most obnoxious yet witty comment that’s gonna make you wanna jump through the laptop screen and strangle him until he begs you to stop.

“Well, aren’t you being unreasonable ?” Minho tuts. “In fact, the smallest details are by far the most important.” You can’t help but scowl when he’s talking all calmly in his wisdom glory as if he’s Sherlock Holmes and you’re John Waston, running after him from one place to another as he keeps lecturing you and acting all mysterious with his stupid deerstalker. 

As if he’s asking you to examine a dead body with grand conclusions and spits at you afterwards “Nice one John, you missed every single essential detail that’d give us a lead, again.” A stark contrast compared to when he’s yelling and running around spontaneously. Tsk, so unnecessary. 

You feel a rush of air rising up in your rib cage as you cough harshly into the sleeves of your shirt. “Alright— smartie pants, how about you— go find Han and just make— out on Changbin’s expensive leather couch, yeah ?” You say between coughs, hand reaching for the oxygen tubes that’s carelessly thrown on the side of your bed. 

The boys always come over to Changbin’s place for a movie night every Monday. You believe that they’re planning on seeing the sequel of ‘Jumanji’ to switch it up instead of watching Woojin’s sappy dramas. How fitting. 

Minho pouts. “Come on sour patch, don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to point out how much of a dumbass you are.” And it’s no doubt that those words of his are dripping with sarcasm and fake empathy. He’s too predictable at this point. 

Normal people would have freaked out to see their friend choking on air like this but it’s been countless times since Minho saw you hacking up lungs and had people yelling at him “Why the fuck are you just standing there ? She’s dying !” But truthfully, you do that all the time and he just doesn’t want to waste a single chance to at least make fun of you.

You sneer at him. “Hold your fucking tongue, you hypocrite.” As you put on the oxygen tubes and loop them around the rim of your ears, you breath adjusts itself slowly and steadily until you don’t sound like a drowning donkey again. 

“Whatever Y/N, I hope you don’t fail Park’s accounting class because that’d ruin my reputation.” Minho rolls his eyes dramatically as if the scene he’s just caused wasn’t dramatic enough in the first place. “Do you have the slightest idea of what I was trying to teach you for the past hour and a half ?” He asks semi-seriously because no matter how passionate he is about pestering you, you failing a subject because of him is the last thing he wants to go home with on his conscience. 

“Nope.” You beam. 

Minho closes his eyes and takes in a sharp breath. He’s trying so hard not to scream out loud right now, such an amusing sight. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” He repeats after himself, sounding more like he’s trying to prevent himself from exploding rather than comforting you about your stupidity. “We can just start over, I’ll just make a quick summary and you try to do the assignments by yourself after this, okay ?” 

“Fine.” 

And as Minho starts blabbering about the mere basics of accounting, the door swings open to reveal Jackson - your nurse - who’s pushing a cart full of medications inside your room, the wheels screeching against the tiled floor. “Having fun with maths again, I see.” Jackson comments with a mischievous smile. 

“Hey Jackson !” Minho inquires innocently. They both used to share a room when Jackson was still in college. Not to mention, he was good friends with 3racha and made dope music for Minho’s auditions. So you can say that Minho’s technically allowed to fanboy a little over your nurse. “You best believe that Y/N has been doing the most to comprehend what I was saying since she just appreciates me so much.” 

Jackson cackles loudly, too loudly for the sake of being in a hospital. He’s lucky that they spent a good amount of cold, hard cash to make the walls soundproof. “Just bear with her until freshman year is over. Don’t pick on the sick kid, that’s not very nice.” And now all you want to do is to put both of their heads on a stick because you know that having both Jackson Wang and Lee Minho in the same conversation is equivalent to the definition of ‘oneself against the world’. Because Jackson too, acts like an old bitchy cat and loves to laugh his ass off at your impending misery. 

You grit. “Square the fuck up.” But the scowl on your face soon fades as your nurse reaches his hand outwards underneath the blue fabric that has the whole cart covered and pulls out a brown paper bag. Now, it’s Jackson’s turn to give you a dirty look when you gratefully take the McDonal’s order from his hand like a three-year-old. “You peasants can live for the time being.” 

“You’re lucky that your body needs 3000 calories per day or else Jaebum will fire me for feeding you junk food so often.” He informs you rather sarcastically as he scatters your description medications across the table where you’d chose to put your collection of stuffed animals instead of other necessities like textbooks or plastic binders. “I didn’t sign up for this FYI, ugh, I need money to pay off student’s loan too you know ?”

And that’s another perfect example of one hundred and one reasons why you’re not pumped for college like other kids. First off, what do you mean if someone’s privileged then they get to turn the assignment in later than everyone else ? And secondly, how the fuck can a graduate pay off their loans when they’re struggling like a fish out of water to find a decent job ? Not to mention, college dramas are the absolute worst. Things won’t be as lighthearted as highschool when students are entering bars with fake IDs and do drugs to get their minds off things that are stressing them out, which is almost everything. 

In conclusion, college is just more of a shithole than highschool so you don’t really get the hype about it. 

“You’ll be fine, Wang, stop being so whiny.” You snicker and drop a french fire into your mouth before chewing obnoxiously. “Have fun with your night shift.” You wave him off as he glares at you while pushing the cart outside. The moment Jackson swings the door open again, you can see a figure passing by but this one in particular catches your attention. And surprisingly, it’s a boy because it’s been ages since you have some kind of interest in guys, non-platonically of course. 

Not to be one of those creepy people, but you’d admit it, he’s quite the looker. Defined nose, full lips and cute mono lids, the air tossing his black mullet like how every protagonist makes their entrance into the movie. But he also has oxygen tubes put on just like you, perhaps you’re in the same boat ? Either way, that’s not the point because while pretty boy’s out there looking like a runway model in sweatpants, you’re nothing more than a couch potato because you’ve been doing nothing other than staying in bed all day. 

Good gracious he’s cute. 

“And that is how you can work on simple balance sheets.” Your friend closes in but frowns at your lack of attention. The door finally closes with a soft ‘click’, hurrying you back to reality to find a not-so-happy looking Minho. “Y/N, would you be a sweetheart and tell me that you didn’t miss a single detail during the last five minutes ?” His smile is rather stiff because his facial muscles are struggling hard not to burst as anger slowly bottles up inside of his chest captivity. For fuck’s sake, he hates it when you don’t listen on purpose. 

You cock your head to the side dumbfoundedly. “Wait— everything makes no sense.” 

Minho sighs in desperation. “Oh... what if you were smarter ?” 

two.

“Kkami !” Someone exclaims from behind you. 

You stop in the middle of your track and take out a side of your earbuds. The footsteps are getting louder and louder by the second along with the male voice. “Excuse me- pardon- Kkami I swear to God !” You decide to take a full ten seconds to comprehend what’s happening before turning around. The next thing you know is your head comes in contact with something hard, causing you to stagger backwards and land on your bottom. 

“Ugh, my head.” You wince at the aching feeling on your back as your pupils slowly dilate and adjust your vision on the current surroundings. The moment you lay your eyes on the figure in front of you, your mouth automatically lets out a silent scream. A cute boy just bumped into you, but then again, you wouldn’t overreact if he’s just any other cute boy. But he’s that cute boy who managed to distract you from Minho, who got your attention even when you just stared at him through a barely opened door. 

The boy widens his eyes when he sees what he’s caused. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” He apologizes with a smile, offering you a hand to pull you up right. “Are you okay ?”

You take his hand, almost flinching when his touch sends electricity throughout your body. His hands are much bigger than yours and are fully capable of enveloping your smaller ones with ease. You like that about him because you’ve never truly experienced what it feels like to hold someone’s hand in a non-platonic way. “Uhm, yeah, I’m okay but are you though ? You sounded like you’re going through a crisis looking for someone.” 

He smiles at you, eyes forming little crescent moon shape. “My mom brought my dog here and he accidentally ran off.” His laugh is melodic, sounding just like Mozart to your ears and you can’t help but crack a smile too. “It was nice meeting you, and I really have to go find him before he got to the NICUs or something… but I think we should get to know each other more. What do you say ?” He chides with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

You yank his hand away harshly. “I thought you’re better than that.” It’s ridiculous how boys with A+ look can just slide into your lives and stay for as long as they want then just disappear as if they’ve never been there in the first place. You’d hate to see a version of yourself who spends all day crying in bed because some bastard doesn’t love her back so this pretty boy over here better go before you throw him off a cliff. 

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” And with that, you walk away without turning your head, not even once. Well, so much for a Tuesday afternoon. Tuesdays are supposed to be easy-going for you since you just have to get yourself through several assignments and essays but someone just had to pop up in your life and ruin everything. 

The scowl on your face drops when you push the glass door of the pediatric unit open. Immediately, the kids see you and quickly abandon their nurses to run towards your direction. Your dad just got back from a business trip in Sydney and he still thinks that you’re a nine-year-old so your room is basically filled with candies and other sweet treats. That’d better change today. “Behave well and all of you will have one.” You chuckle at the kids’ eagerness, personally handing one bag over to each and every one of them. 

Five minutes later, the amount of treats are slowly trickling down until there’s only one bag left. In which, you’ve saved it for a specific someone since he’s just that obsessed with Australian candies. Your phone buzzes. How convenient. 

[ 3:45p.m. ]

yongbokie | okay, I’m here, where are you ?

y/n | seventh floor, just go straight down the hallway and it’s on the right side. 

“Here’s your worksheets, now where’s my Tim Tam Slam ?” Felix shoves the stack of papers into your arms as soon as he spots you inside the pediatric unit, surrounded by children, a whole lot of children. He knows your love for kids all too well and the fact that you’re lonely in this hospital is no shocker. Meaning, you’re a part-time kindergarten teacher ( aka whenever you feel like slacking off on school work ). 

You scoff at him, throwing the bag of candies at him with as much aggression. “Changbin’s gonna kick you out sooner or later if you end up looking like a pig, enjoy it while you can.” That’s obviously useless since Seo Changbin is as utterly soft for Lee Felix as you are for kids. Both are annoying little pricks but somehow, your little heart can never get mad. “And you better share that with Chan too or else he’s gonna write an entire diss track about me.” 

“CB97’s new diss track material is apparently Tim Tam Slam, how terrific.” Your friend snickers and tears the bag open single handedly with his teeth while his other hand tapping away on his phone. He doesn’t even need a cup of hot chocolate, that’s how bad Felix is craving his childhood candy. 

“Ooh, earrings ? And jeans too ?” He cocks a brow at your dainty pieces of jewelry. And you never wear jeans in the hospital, never. You think that’s it’s equivalent to asking someone to suffocate you as if the hospital isn’t suffocating enough. “Who are you trying to impress ?” 

Upon his teasing, you let out an audible groan. For once in your life, you’ve made up your mind and actually packed something decent because hospital romance is a thing and you need to be prepared at all times. Not to mention, you might as well snatch yourself a guy who’s totally father material because you hang out at the pediatric unit most of the time. “Haha, very funny. Try and find me someone cute then.” 

Just then, very slowly, a familiar figure takes long strides towards your direction. “Anyone, but him.” You deadpan.

“Him ?” Felix says over a mouthful of chocolate as he turns his head to the front door. 

And holy shit. 

To your dismay - with a bag over his shoulder, face flushed from running with beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks that make him glow like Edward Cullen and his wet fringe covering his eyes slightly — is the pretty boy from yesterday, well, more like five minutes ago. They say everything’s uglier close-up but not him. He’s absolutely breathtaking, undeniably brilliant as if he had just stepped out from an anime. But you’re not falling for that perfect smile again, at least for the time being. 

“Oh hell no.” Felix quickly identifies the boy and hangs his jaw open, the plastic wrapper falling out from his hand. You look at your friend in disbelief, your expression mirroring his - completely lost for words. 

The boy waves his hand at him and smiles widely. “Yongbok !” And just like that, your brain starts to process the new amount of overwhelming information. Slowly, and steadily, all the dots are connected. That guy is definitely heading towards your direction. No one knows Felix’s Korean name unless they’re close friends or family members. Jesus motherfucking Christ-

Felix demands loudly. “Hyunjin, do not move !” 

The pretty boy - whose name is apparently Hyunjin - stops abruptly at his friend’s sudden outburst. He turns his head only to accidentally make eye contact with you. Cocking a brow, he averts his attention back to Felix. You too, tug on your friend’s sleeve before questioning him. 

“You know him ?” “You know her ?” 

Felix widens his eyes in terror and quickly pushes Hyunjin away. “You people are insane ! Six feet away at all times, it’s a fucking simple protocol !” 

“Huh- wait what ?” You stutter. Soon enough, all of the colors on Hyunjin’s face are completely drained and a worrisome feeling suddenly runs down your spine. 

You exchange a weird look with him. “Don’t tell me that you’re a...“

“Are you also a… “ 

Felix face palms himself. “You fucking guessed it.” 

three.

The next few weeks get a little bit mayhem since you’re wrapping up the semester while being hospitalized at the same time. Meaning, you’re struggling real hard to balance the whole feud with finals and all of the medical stuff along with really boring paperwork because your body decided to fail you once again. 

No one was really able to give you company since they have to deal with their own problems too. Your parents are busy with their draining business trips while your brother - Woojin is getting his bachelor degree soon. And Minho is graduating in less than a month. Moreover, you haven’t met the pretty boy since your first and only encounter. 

Speaking of the Devil, “Fancy seeing you here.” 

You peel your eyes away from your laptop and see Hyunjin. In which, almost makes you fall right off the stool that you’ve been occupying for the last hour. You’re still procrastinating like highschool but you’re actually determined to finish your essay because if not, you won’t be able to walk away from your problems again. 

“Six feet away at all times, not six feet under the ground. So knock it off.” You deadpan, ushering him further away with a wave of your hand. If you were being completely honest, Hyunjin just took the breath right out of your lungs at the slightest glance. Time really does make people blind because you almost forgot that although he did try to flirt with you that one time, he’s also drop dead gorgeous. And that makes your heart tingles, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

Hyunjin makes a ‘I’mma-need-you-to-relax’ face and takes a seat on the opposite side of the table. “You still radiate big passive aggressive energy, not so good of a first impression.” 

You laugh dryly. “Speak for yourself. Talk about some shitty flirting skills.” 

“In my defense,” He raises a brow and throws you a look, one that makes you feel personally attacked. “I was genuinely trying to make friends, you sure know how lonely it is to be hospitalized all the time, don’t you ?”

You sneer at him. “Well, you picked the wrong person.” 

“How am I supposed to know that you’re also a CF-er ?! You weren’t wearing your oxygen tubes.” 

Apparently, you think that life hates you more than most of the world’s population because you weren’t just born with cystic fibrosis, you were born into it. The genetic disease gifts you with constant lung infections and gives you a hard time to breath in order to function like a normal human being. More accurately, the protein inside your body becomes dysfunctional so it loses the ability to move chloride to the cell surface. Meaning, the mucus in various organs can attract more bacteria along with germs, causing infections and inflammation. 

So naturally, minimizing contact with any kind of germs and other CF-er are your top priorities unless you want to catch their bacteria and choke to death on it instead. With that being said, you’ve just come to a realization that Hyunjin touched you the other day, skin to skin without any kind of protection like gloves. Some CF-ers have caught each other’s bacteria before by touching a doorknob, and that story scared you shitless. 

You speak up, finally. “Uhm… so.. were you okay ?” 

“If you’re asking if I got cross-infection or not, then no, I’m totally fine. None of that B. cepacia shit.” Hyunjin answers while avoiding your eyes. He quietly reaches inside his backpack and pulls out a blue binder that looks like it’s been used since elementary school because plastic never really goes away. 

You raise a curious brow when he pulls out some pieces of papers that are covered in an awfully dizzy amount of words. “What you got there, pretty boy ?” 

“Now you’re talking, I almost ended up on the ground laughing when you thought that I was nothing but a shallow fuckboy.” Hyunjin is still pissed off because not only did you despise him, you also happens to be Felix’s best friend. Totally irrelevant, but he’s also mad at Felix for not telling him about you sooner. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want the both of you to accidentally kill each other or anything but still, Hyunjin did hold your hand and nothing happened. 

You prop your head on your hand, lips cracking a smile. “But I’m interested now, no hard feelings. You really need to lighten up drama lama.” You’re just noticing this now, but it seems like he’s really similar to Felix. Point break, he’s an easy victim to pick on anytime, anywhere. Of course you’re going to take advantage of this. 

Hyunjin replies monotonously. “I need to practice my lines for the upcoming play for finals season.” He’s trying so hard not to give in and smile at you because he’s decided to play hard to get. 

“No wonder why you’re a dramatic little dipshit. How fitting.” You grin coyly at the scowl on his face. “Okay, sorry, let me tone that down. What are you guys playing ?” 

Hyunjin groans. “We’re trying to fit an entire season of ‘Once Upon a Time’ into a two-hour play. And my fucking God, Captain Hook has a shit ton of lines.” Although it does appeal as a privilege to other people that drama majors can skip through the whole ‘cramming and crying’ to pass their finals, what people don’t know is the amount of work and effort that needs to be put into a single play. It requires patience, team chemistry, diligence and lots of, lots of caffeine to have a decent performance for the whole school. 

There was this one time he pulled seven all nighters in a row just to finish ‘Peter Pan’ before the holiday hit. And for the following five days, he basically lived on his bed and fed on leftover pizza that his roommate refused to microwave. 

You offer him kindly. “Maybe I can help you practice ?” You really feel like a fucking angel with your own imaginary halo shining ever so brightly on the top of your head. “I got nothing better to do anyway, not planning on being stuck with accounting 24/7 or I’m gonna end up in an insane asylum.”

“Thought you’re already in one.” 

“Say that again and I’ll skin you alive !” 

four.

Hwang Hyunjin is fortunately blessed by whatever gods up there because you finally finished finals way before the D-day of his play. Which means you feel even more obligated to help him practice his lines. 

But in all seriousness, he technically doesn’t need you because all you do is read the other characters’ lines right off the script anyway. Unlike you, even in the hospital cafeteria with a stainless steel fork as the hook on his right hand, Hyunjin plays the character as if he’s the one and only, non-biological heir of Leo DiCaprio. 

You can see why he chose the dramatic arts because he embraces and studies closely every movement, every gesture, every inch of flesh, every drop of emotion that his character has to offer. No wonder why they let him play one of the male protagonists because you can’t imagine anyone other than him play the iconic Captain Hook. And it’s actually nice to not having him spatting some kind of witty comments at you every two minutes. 

You clap your hands together. “Act 4. Scene 1.” 

“I already told you, I’m just a blacksmith !” Hyunjin tries to whimper as quietly as possible to avoid dirty looks from other people. He’s portraying that scene where Hook basically got tied up on a tree so that the others could get him talking. 

Your eyes narrow down into a glare, mentally throwing daggers at his general direction. Meaning if Hook doesn’t spill who he really is, he’s gonna be the monster’s meal in a matter of time. “You won’t talk to us ? Maybe they’ll talk to you and snatch one of your limbs for lunch.”

“You can’t just leave me here like this !” He sudden yelps, startling you in the process. You quickly avert your attention from the script to his eyes, clearly they show nothing but desperation and mischief. As the character should have. 

“Su-Sure you’re not.” You stutter, not knowing how to express the words inside the parentheses. 

Hyunjin guides you patiently. “Say it like you’re gonna set me on fire if I dare to test you. Be aggressive, talk aggressively, act aggressively. Aggressive is your middle name now.” His voice starts to get louder and louder at the end, a thing that he accidentally adapted from Chan. He doesn’t even need megaphones to yell at someone at this point. 

You give him a curt nod before gripping the script tightly once again. If you’re gonna help him, you’ll have to make it seem like you’re not slacking off. 

“Sure you’re not.” You deadpan, cringing at your own attempt to sound intimidating. Acting was never your thing either way. You’ve only been chosen for pity roles like ‘Girl #2’ or ‘Tree #5’ for some plays back in middle school and the beginning of highschool. 

He smirks. “Good for you. You bested me. I can assure you that the number of people who have done that before can only be counted on one hand.”

Another thing, you fucking love Emma Swan because she’s practically your twin. The only thing is that you’re not even half as badass as her. Sometimes you don’t even realize that there’s a script in your hands this whole time. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to be funny ? Who are you ?”

“Kilian Jones.” Hyunjin says with a glint of fierceness flickering in his irises. His intense gaze almost makes you run straight into the restroom and scream for a good five minutes. “But most people have taken to call me by my more colorful moniker, Hook.” The rasp in his voice sends chills to the core of your bones. 

You cock a brow. “As in, Captain Hook ?”

He beams. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me.”

You pant slightly out of nervousness, gripping onto the edge of the wooden stool for fuck’s sake. “Hurry up, they’re getting closer. Unless you want to be dinner, you better start talking.” 

Hyunjin shakes his head gently. “Don’t just read out the line. Don’t become the character. Make the character yours. Make it seems like her lines are personally tailored to every single detail of your existence.” He’s mentoring you as if you’re the one who plays Emma Swan and not that one pretty girl from his class. You swear, you’re not a stalker, he literally just spilled everything about his life after very few conversations with you. 

You nod. “Hurry up, they’re getting closer. Unless you want to be dinner, you better start talking.” This time, you finally got a good grip on the character’s emotions, slowly falling into a haze. 

“Cora told me to gain your trust so that I can learn everything there is to know about your storybook.” Hyunjin singsongs, lips curling upwards. You really want to deck him in the face right now. That’s how good of an actor he is. “She didn’t want any surprises when she got over there.”

You pretend to be in disbelief, jaw dropping in the process. “She can’t go there. We already destroyed the wardrobe.” 

He chuckles this time. God you wish you can wipe that stupid smirk off his face, although everything’s just an act. “Ah, my enchantment remained. Cora gathered the ashes and she’s gonna use them to open a new portal.” He looks at you, wiggling his brows to show off his skills before continues. “Now, if you’d just kindly cut me loose—“

“Let’s go.” You say monotonously to your non-existent cast, waving your free hand as a signal for them to walk away. 

“Wait !” Hyunjin slams his fist on the table loudly. It seems like he’s getting immersed in the character again because he can’t be bothered to give two shits about the fact that everyone’s having their eyes on him. More accurately, on the two of you. “You need me alive !”

You also try to ignore all of the weird looks. “Why ?”

“Because we both want the same thing. To get back to your land.” When you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, you nod at him to continue with the script. “I initially arranged for transport with Cora, but seeing just how resourceful you are, I’ll offer you the same deal. I’ll help you as long as you promise to take me along.”

You clear your throat. “How are you going to help us ?”

Hyunjin proceeds to elaborate, slowly. “The ashes will open a portal but to get to your land, she’ll need more. There’s an enchanted compass, Cora seeks it. I’ll help you obtain it before she does.”

“So Cora won’t make it to Storybrooke and we’ll be one step closer to being home. Sounds too good to be true.” You mock him, the corners of your mouth twitching slightly. 

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

“I’ll need you to tell me one thing then.” You point the tip of your sword (knife) directly at his throat (a good three inches away) as an attempt to threaten him. “What does the infamous Captain Hook want in Storybrooke ?”

“To exact revenge on the man who took my hand. Rumplestiltskin.” Hyunjin finishes his line and claps, breaking out of character. He looks disturbed at the particular way that you’re pointing the knife at him. “And… cut ! Put the knife down, Y/N. You’re a sadist, not a murderer.” He pushes the piece of cutlery away as if it’s a ticking bomb. 

This time, it’s your turn to wiggle your brows at him. “You don’t know me. What if I’m an actual murderer who preys on the innocent at night, when everyone’s fast asleep in their cozy beds, when they’re the most vulnerable ? What if I’ve been living a double life this entire time and you’re my next target ?” Actually, scratch that. Hyunjin thinks you’re pretty fitting for the role of Regina aka the Evil Queen. 

“Admit it you moron, you’re a sucker for my acting.” He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise. It seems like Hyunjin has adapted the habit of holding grudges from Felix because the shy pretty boy that you met a few weeks ago is nowhere to be seen. Like he has grown accustomed to you, he treats you like an old friend, just catching up on things with each other. But in reality, his confidence level just went from a 100 to Han Jisung because you’ve been feeding his ego way too much. 

“There’s room for improvement.” You shrug, trying to keep a straight face. Emphasis on the ‘trying’ part. “Bet you’d do better if that pretty girl was here.”

Hyunjin blows a few strands of loose hair out of his face. He looks really good with disheveled hair, and it’s tickling something at very bottom pit of your stomach. “Kinda wish you could play Emma. You two are literally the same person. She’s just slightly cooler because at least she doesn’t sleep with opened windows.” 

“Is this a fucking call out ?” You hold back the urge to slap him with your slippers. “My room’s on the third floor for fuck’s sake.”

“Rapists can climb.” He smiles cheekily and it makes you ponder about how many more questionable behaviors of his you'd have to deal with for the long future. “You’re definitely going, don’t leave me hanging okay ?” Hyunjin declares and slaps a ticket on the wooden surface, sliding it across the dining table. 

You blink countless times at the ticket, hesitating to grab it with your bare hands. “Take it, I’m wearing gloves anyway.” He reassures you, skimming through some of the scenes that he feels like he could do better. Hyunjin might not look like it but he’s really hard on himself. He takes every single scene, every single line seriously and you admire that about him. He even complained to you how he could have done better for the role of Diaval for ‘Maleficent’ from last month’s play. 

“So the play’s on March 20th ?” You play dumb and pretend to question him after reading the bold letters written in gold. 

Hyunjin peels his eyes away from the script and smiles, eyes forming little crescent moon shape. “Yeah, the day that I’m turning 21, kinda terrifying but since it’s adulthood, I’ll have to bear with it for the rest of my life. At least I have the right to make decisions for myself now.” 

You ask him timidly as your hand fiddle with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Uhm so, do you wanna, I don’t know, get coffee after that or something ?” 

He gives you a dirty look, hard. Clearly Hyunjin’s annoyed. “Look who wants coffee now.” 

“That’s not a ‘no’ that I heard.” 

“You’d better pay up then, I haven’t got paid yet.” 

five.

[ 8:23p.m. ]

y/n | meet me on the terrace.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” Hyunjin mutters as he rushes to the dressing room, and even more loops of ‘oh my god’ run through his mind, faster than a lighting bolt. He totally forgot about you until you made eye contact with him when the cast members took a full ninety degrees bow to the audience. You were clapping, cheering on for him like an old friend. But you were smiling, so brightly that he thought you could have lit up the entire stadium on your own. 

Chan finally finishes bowing to the rest of the cast and the crew. He feels like he can only breathe properly once the play came out smoothly. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Minho slipped over his long coat during the second scene, Seungmin was struggling with the lighting and Jisung nearly threw himself over the balcony. Besides that, everything went pretty okay. Little errors are unavoidable so he’ll let everything slide, because the play that he spent months planning out, training the cast so eagerly didn’t come out as a flop. 

“Woah, mate, where are you going in such a hurry ?” He quirks a brow when Hyunjin swings the door open, hair disheveled with ‘panic’ written in bold capital letters across his forehead. 

Changbin supplies unhelpfully as he steps out from behind the black curtain. Little strips of confetti are sticking onto his sweaty hair, thanks to Jisoo who kinda went overboard with the can of hairspray. “He invited a friend to come in and watch the play, can’t leave her hanging now, can he ?” He wiggles his brows in the most obnoxious way possible, being the little pest that he is. 

“I didn’t even say that my friend’s a girl— she’s not even my friend— wait, she is but we’re not that close— what, fuck you.” Hyunjin gives up after four attempts of forming an actual sentence. As if he’s forgotten how to speak, his voice fails him once again when a witty retort lingers at the tip of his tongue. He gives in and goes behind the curtain, quickly changing out of his costume. Like okay, pirates are cool and all but their sense of fashion is pretty questionable because leather boots and salt water ? Not compatible. 

Changbin peels the confetti off his hair before singsonging. “Our Hyunjinnie got himself a date, he’s all grown up now.” 

Chan throws his head back and laughs wholeheartedly. This is why he’s not planning on falling for someone soon because having a chaotic, annoying group of friends can only make things so much more difficult. “Give him a break, Bin. A boy can love whoever his heart yearns for.” Then he pauses, and continues. “Do you want to tell us something about her ?” 

Hyunjin scrunches his nose and starts singing. “Sing a yo ho, you can beg, plead and whine. But yo ho you are wasting your time.” The moment he finishes the line, he’s already changed into his normal clothing and pushed the curtain open. 

Chan and Changbin looks unimpressed. They both think that their friend should really stop quoting his own lines. Hyunjin throws Changbin the hook, then checks his own reflection in the mirror. Not too shabby, at least he didn’t forget to shave this morning. But it’s just you after all, you’d never judge him… wait no you’re highly judgmental. You once called him out for having a piece of carrot in the corner of his lips, shameless. 

“Hear me out one last time, mates. Then I’ve got a date with destiny.” Hyunjin continues to sing because he’s absolutely enjoying every moment of Changbin suffering and mentally dying on the floor. He wouldn’t even feel bad if his ears started bleeding or something, hanging out with weird people have turned him into a sadist, just like them. Tragic. 

Before Chan decides to wrestle him to the floor, Hyunjin starts moonwalking towards the door as he jumps straight to the last bits of the song. “Sing a yo ho, I’ll meet her tonight. Yo ho must be fate’s design. At last our hearts can be intertwined, can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait. God is on my side.” He’s just making up lyrics at this point nothing makes sense anymore. 

The door shuts with a small ‘click’, making him snap his mouth closed. Then I’ve got a date with destiny. Right, a date. Well, it’s technically not a date when you asked him to meet up on the terrace where there’s so much to offer. A brilliant view of the city, the ethereal moonlight which sets the atmosphere, just you and him standing face to face.. holy shit it’s a date ? 

“You’re late.” 

Hyunjin whines loudly at your cold statement and supports himself on his knees, chest heaving up and down at an abnormal space. Cystic fibrosis and ten flights of stairs are like water and oil, they don’t blend. “I was changing, do you know how hard it is to slip out of those leather combat boots ?” Upon your silence, he leans himself against the metal railings and sighs, standing a good six feet away from you. “Hey, at least I looked fly in them.” 

You automatically groan because fuck yes, he did look hot. Pirates aren’t supposed to be hot, they’re supposed to be smelly barbarians with shitty attitude. “Since when are you so cocky ?” 

Hyunjin tuts. “I’m very much aware of how good looking I am, thank you for taking your precious time to care about my tiny existence on this glorious planet.” He cocks his head sideways, narrowing his eyes at your sketchy posture. Both hands are hidden behind your back and you’re trying too hard to keep a straight face. “What are you hiding from me ?”

“Nothing.” You let out a small giggle. Clearly he’s not buying it. “Fine, close your eyes.” 

Hyunjin frowns at you but still closes his eyes nonetheless. He has enough faith in you that you won’t have the heart to knock him out cold before selling him off to some kind of mafia organization. “Y/N if you’re planning on kidnapping me, you might as well just do it—“ The words grow dead on his tongue once a small ‘pop’ occurs. What the fuck ? 

“Hey Hyunjin.” 

He flutters his eyes open at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. His hand immediately fly to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. “Oh my god, shut the fuck up !” He utters, shocked at what’s happening in front of his eyes. “You’re kidding, you’re kidding, you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

You laugh loudly at how frantic he is once you get down on one knee with a black velvet box in your hand. A silver band with his name engraved on the inside. “Hwang Hyunjin, can you fathom enough courage to walk with me through your youth even though sometimes you wish you could throw me off a cliff ? Can you bear the burden of indulging an impulsive and indecisive person like me in the long run ? Because if you can, then happy 21st birthday, you’re officially stuck with me with the label of being best friends.”

Hyunjin teases, lips curling up into a smile. “Can’t you be a little bit more romantic ?” Although he’s decently attractive, he’s still one of those guys who bury themselves in hopeless romance just because he spends way too much time on Netflix watching some random sappy show while Kkami is watching some stupid dog documentary right next to him on the couch. 

“Fine, I also got myself one. We’re matching.” You confess, showing him your band resting nicely around your index finger. “Since I just know you so well, are you happy with your present now birthday boy ?” 

You finish it off by slipping the ring onto his finger like a cherry on top of a sundae, watching in amusement at how his face is lighting up with joy. “Wow,” He manages the breath out, as light as a feather. “You’re so fucking cheesy, I hate you.” 

You laugh wholeheartedly. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. You have a whole party waiting for you to inhale. Cakes and junk food and all.”

When you stand up right again, shivers run down on your spine at the cold breeze passing by. The wind greets concrete and your skin just the same, tearing through the air and banging loudly against your eardrums. Hyunjin suddenly grabs the sides of your face, still keeping a good distance between you two. Your cheeks are instantly tinted pink at his touch. “Y/N ! Can you hear me ?!” He tries to shout over the wind but fails miserably. 

“What ??” You ask loudly, not being able to catch what he was trying to say. 

“No, you can’t hear me ??”

“What ? I can’t hear you !”

He beams at you and the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. “I have something to tell you !” If he’s doing this now, there’s no going back. 

“I still can’t hear you !”

Hyunjin ignores your confused expression. He slowly inhales to take a deep breath before shouting his heart out at you. “Y/N, I’ll protect you ! No matter what !”  

You can’t quite understand what he’s trying to convey to you but seeing him smiling so widely like this, you know that you could never trade him for anything else. Because no one has ever made you feel this way before, heart pounding inside your rib cage so loudly just by looking at him. You like how you can just see him, and be happy. 

He’s irreplaceable.

six.

Felix glares at the silver band wrapping around your finger, one that’s particularly matching with Hyunjin’s. “So what ? You two are dating now ?” 

“Lee Felix I swear to god, for the tenth time, it’s a just birthday present !” You cry loudly at your best friend overreaction. 

Jeongin butts in. “Yeah right, rings, matching and all. Don’t you think that’s a little bit romantic ?” You’re so fed up with these theatre kids it’s actually ridiculous, you’d rather be cursed than have them singsong into your ears everyday about how you and Hyunjin are acting somewhat sketchy. Sure, being dramatic is naturally what they do for a passion but sometimes you just can’t help it but snap at them to go and kiss a statue. 

“That’s the point of it, dipshit.” Hyunjin sips on his drink obnoxiously, reading through the final page of his reading assignment in a haze. He’s a little bit out of it from running around all day to not get yelled at by his professors for being late to every single damn lecture. “I’m desperate, I need something cute to lighten up my sad life so don’t judge me.”

Jisung suddenly pries loudly because unlike you or Hyunjin, he actually gives zero fuck about publicity and personal information. “Hyunjin and Y/N ? I ship it ! Since you both have been super single and super antisocial for so long, why not date each other ? Get married even, don’t you dare forget my invitation.” 

Needless to say, he quickly earns a smack on the head from Seungmin, hard. Hard enough to knock some logic and common sense into that little disturbing glimpse of thing that they call ‘a brain’ inside his head. “God, Han, you’re so dumb. If you want them to both choke on each other’s bacteria and die, then yeah, hit a five-star restaurant up with that reservation.” 

Sometimes Seungmin wonders why he even befriended Han Jisung in the first place. They nearly threw hands at each other back in highschool because Jisung would constantly forget his stuff inside Seungmin’s locker and Chan had to manually pull them apart later. 

“Actually..” Hyunjin fiddles with the strings of his hoodie. “I think I might have my eyes on someone.” Your heart automatically sinks at his words. Is this what betrayal feels like ? How come he’s never told you before ? Didn’t he promise that he’d never hide anything from you ? Does your friendship mean nothing to him at all ? 

You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t once thought about dating Hyunjin. But you don’t really see the point because it’s just a label over your relationship, it’s not gonna change how you treat each other. At least it’s not gonna change how you treat him. 

But in the end, you want nothing but the best for him so you’re obligated to become his dating counselor. 

Felix tuts eagerly. “Ooh, spill the tea. I’m here for it.”

“Let me guess, it’s that girl from Literature & Criticism 19B ?” Jeongin yawns lazily. Apparently he’s not digging the fact that Hyunjin doesn’t have any non-platonic interest in you. 

Hyunjin shakes his head profusely. “No ! We barely talk, it was only for a presentation from last month. And also I feel kinda awkward around her. Things never click between us.” 

Then, he proceeds to continue with dreamy eyes. “The girl that I’m talking about is so beautiful, so smart, so brave. She enjoys food like no other, like no one is watching and isn’t ashamed of the fact that she can live off donuts and Netflix for three weeks straight. She’s honest, playful but also very gentle and caring. Kinda reminds me of my mom, which is weird but whatever. Maybe people finding a sense of comfort in their partner who’s similar to their parents is a thing.” 

The look in his eyes makes your heart crack a bit. Just a teeny tiny bit. It’s that kind of look that you’ve never seen before but know too well what’s behind those brown eyes of his. The goddamn look one can only have when they’re thinking about that special someone who effortlessly makes their heart swell, who puts a smile on their face no matter what. It’s also that kind of look that you have whenever you’re thinking about Hyunjin. 

“Alright lover boy,” You crack a smile, rolling up your sleeves because things are about to go down. “You’ve just got yourself a dating counselor. A good old trusty friend who’s gonna be there if you accidentally have a mini mental breakdown on your first date.” 

“What do you know about dating ?” Felix’s more than stingy comment just stabs your sky high ego like a needle pricking the tip of a finger. 

You kick his knee from under the table, earning a low grunt in return. “I am the best in the business. Jackson Wang and Mark Tuan ? I did that.” 

Then you lace your fingers together neatly and look at Hyunjin dead in the eye. “So, what’s your ideal first date ?” 

He makes a thinking face. “I haven’t thought about that yet but maybe.. a hike ?” 

“Huh, cool.” You take a total of ten full seconds to process what he just said. 

You deadpan. “It’s a hard no. Consider the fact that she needs nothing but donuts and Netflix in her life, you’re gonna have to rage war with Satan in order to get her out of the house. Popcorn and blankets are total necessities, make them extra fuzzy too. Let’s stick a pin in that, we’ll get back to it later.” 

Felix asks, followed by a loud yawn. “Copy that, what shows is she into ?”

Hyunjin lets out a prolonged sigh. “I’m not so sure but she hates rom-coms and sappy dramas with a passion.” If you’re being completely honest, he really needs to calm down because if a girl is willing to cuddle with him, she’ll literally watch anything. And by that, you mean she will definitely pass out after the long winded introduction of the two protagonists. 

“Sounds like a gal who’d watch The Umbrella Academy.” And you totally didn’t say that just because it’s your favorite show. Because for once, Netflix actually didn’t produce something that was undeniably shitty. 

Hyunjin sounds uncertain. “I have never seen it before.” 

“But he can ?” Jeongin raises a brow.

You shake your head gently. “The show is vicious, violent and contains extremely disturbing content along with really shitty relationships between siblings. Also, the humor doesn’t suit you. Does a fifty-year-old man who’s stuck inside a thirteen-year-old boy’s body and is also someone who fell in love with a mannequin, grew up in a broken family, and became a murderer who timetravels sound enjoyable or what ?” 

Seungmin makes a face. “That can be a dealbreaker.” 

“Meet us halfway here !” Jisung clatters loudly. 

“Sorry, let me back it up a little bit.” You put your hands up in defense. “Hyunjin, it doesn’t matter if all you want to do is go out on a hike and she just wants to curl up into a ball inside her blanket. It doesn’t matter if you guys have different taste in movies. Nothing matters if she truly feels the same way for you because as long as the feeling is mutual, she’d definitely do anything to satisfy your picky ass.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything. He turns his head to face the window and a grin quietly curls its way up on his lips. 

You should have seen the look on your face. 

seven.

Woojin growls at you from your laptop screen. “It’s one in the morning ! Get the fuck back to sleep !” 

He’s extra cranky today because he just finished off his final paper before graduation happens. Running on one hour of sleep per day with a cup of espresso doesn’t sound like the most ideal thing to do but fuck that, he’s not gonna throw all those years of crying over overdue projects in the trash. 

You on the other hand, are so fucking close to soil your pants because your heart is literally dangling off the edge. It’s either gonna roll backwards and land safely as if nothing has ever happened or everything’s going downhill from there. An endless pit of impending misery. And you’d hate to see yourself shedding tears while hogging a bucket of ice cream in your bed like a psychopath. So your only option is unfortunately, your hard headed, dumbass brother. 

But he’s not a complete idiot because his brotherly sixth sense is still there, and it’s never been better. “Okay, something’s up. Spill before I personally drag my ass to the hospital and beat you up to get something out of you.” 

You stutter, tripping over your own words like an absolute fool. “It’s— uhm… whatever, it’s not a secret anymore. It’s— it’s—“

“It’s Hwang Hyunjin.” Your brother reads your mind like a magician, leaving you utterly speechless. But it’s not even a surprise because apparently, everyone knows about your feelings for Hyunjin, just not Hyunjin himself. He’s unbelievably dumb even when Minho and Jisung keep on hinting at him in a not very subtle way. And that makes you wonder why you even fell for him in the first place. Even that fat cat who always takes naps on your balcony knows because you’d be smiling stupidly while FaceTime-ing Hyunjin all the time. It’s a miracle that the cat has not once given you a dirty look. 

You sigh. “Yeah, I‘m confused.”

“About what ?” Woojin huffs tiredly and blows some strands of hair out of his face. 

You blurt, panic mode is fully on. “About why I like Hwang Hyunjin so fucking much when he already had romantic interests in another girl !” 

Woojin thinks you’re being ridiculous and stubborn at the same time, which can make things that much harder for him to break it down for you. Firstly, if one is loved, then one is loved. There’s no reason needed for loving. This might sound like total bullshit, but ‘love at first sight’ is a thing, people are just too heartbroken to accept it these days. Secondly, if you really like Hyunjin all that much, you should be spilling your heart out at him, not at your brother. But whatever, Woojin is one step closer to pushing you towards confessing to your crush because he’s gifted with the ability to prevent you from doing anything dumb. 

“Then what makes you not wanting to like him ?” 

You widen your eyes. “What ?”

Woojin shakes his head gently, an exasperated sigh escapes his lips. “You can’t love all of him. This is real life, not a fucking John Legend’s song. If you don’t even know what you hate about him in the first place, you’re not gonna know why you like him relentlessly.” His words slowly sink into your mind, trains after trains of thoughts are dashing through your mind at the speed of light. Goddamn, your brother is right. 

“Gosh, I don’t know. I can’t hate him even when I want to.” Before you can pick every single strand of hair off your head, Woojin once again snaps you back into reality with a serious look on his face. He’s not messing around this time. “One, he’s a CF-er. And two, I’m not gonna be the one who walks down the aisle to have them announce our marriage. Three, he only sees me as a friend.” There’s no happy ending for people like you, especially you. The moment you found out that Hyunjin’s also a CF-er, you knew all too well that it’s over for you both. 

Your brother scrunches his nose in annoyance. He really should have signed you up for a dating counseling session. “You don’t know what the future holds. It could be better, it could be worse. Or nothing would change at all. Whatever happens, humans still yearn for the happy ending of their own imagination. Because after all, we were the one who pushed ourselves towards dead ends.” 

“What’s so wrong with loving someone ?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with loving someone, but how we love them.” 

Again, Woojin’s right. Every minute, every second, every moment with Hyunjin always leaves you completely stripped and vulnerable. All of your concerns, insecurities, and strength are revealed unintentionally. And the walls that you’ve spent years building ? Mercilessly destroyed. Someday, you’ll either look back on it and smile or you’ll realize that once you’ve fallen, there’s no turning back. You just can’t control who you’ll fall for. 

Being in love with Hyunjin is another reason why you believe that life hates you to the very core of your bones. It’s like the whole universe is playing with your mind, because all it takes is to make Hyunjin exists at the same time as you do. That alone is enough to mess up your entire existence. 

You cover your face with your blanket, voice muffled beneath the soft fabric. “What’s your point then ?”

“My point,” Woojin sits straight up from his bed and yawns in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible. “is that you can still fall for Hyunjin even when he’s a CF-er, even when he likes someone else. Hyunjin is still Hyunjin. Cystic fibrosis or none, he’s still just Hyunjin. And you love him for who he is. Don’t ever forget that. And don’t get mad when things don’t work out because loving is hard, loving is painful. You just try your best not to get hurt. Every scar has a story and it represents how you’ve grown throughout time. So it doesn’t matter if you accidentally trip and make a fool of yourself. You simply like Hwang Hyunjin, and I’m not going against that.”

You unknowingly smile. The perks of having an older brother always come at the most unexpected time. You suddenly feel bad for all of those kids who grew up without siblings. 

“So are you telling me not to be all sad and miserable ?”

Woojin nods absentmindedly. “Precisely. One day you might be strong enough to smile as you watch him intertwining his fingers with another woman’s. Give them your blessings, countless words will never be enough. What they want is your genuine honesty, how you’re truly happy for them. After that, take a different turn, or just move on as it is in silence. But do not let the memories that you made with him become meaningless because trust me, that hits harder. And that’s how you can love someone without being petty about it for the rest of your life.” 

You say. “I think I can hold back my tears when Hyunjin’s getting married now.”

“But he needs to know first.” Woojin interrupts you abruptly. 

You break out of your trance and ask. “Knows what ?”

“About your stupid feelings for him !” Woojin is quick enough to hold back the scream stuck inside his throat because if not, Chan’s gonna grill his ass so hard for making questionable noises in the middle of the night while his roommate is stressing over a song that’s yet to be complete. The double life between a college student and a SoundCloud rapper isn’t as hot as people tend to think. It just consists of a whole lot of cramming homework while trying to come up with a new batch of lyrics every two weeks. 

“He deserves to know that. The sooner the better.”

Conveniently, your phone buzzes on your night stand. 

[ 1:17a.m. ] 

hyunjin | I’m gonna do it. 

hyunjin | I’ll confess to her.

hyunjin | this is so terrifying what do I do ?

eight.

“Y/N wait up, you still have to take your medication !” Mark yells after your panicked figure dashing through the hallway while he’s pushing a cart with an awful amount of medicines piled up. 

You shout back at him abruptly. “I’ll be back in an hour ! Don’t tell Jackson about this !” Whatever, you hate being on a drug trials anyway. Having multiple pills shoved down your throat each and everyday makes you sick to the core. It seems like you’re only getting closer to being buried six feet under the ground. But that’s not the point. 

Point is, if you’re going to die sooner or later, there’s no way in hell you’d let your life end before you tell Hyunjin how you truly feel about him. 

“Hyunjin, where exactly are you going ?” You manage to talk in between short breaths while having him on the other line. 

He replies bluntly, uneven breathing and quick footsteps can be heard. “You know how everyone has their own youth, right ?” You keep running despite the fact that what he said just makes no sense. What on Earth is he planning on doing ? 

“I also have a youth of my own.” He pauses for a while. “But it seems like… my youth is one to be forever reserved.”

You shake your head furiously, confused at what he’s trying to convey. “Hyunjin, I don’t get it. One moment you’re talking about how you’ll confess to the love of your life and now you’re telling me this ? Did something happen ?” 

Hyunjin ignores your question and continues. “My parents would always urge each other to work harder, to make more money so that I can have a lung transplant and prolong my life day after day. But it’ll cost us five hundred thousand dollars, eight hundred even. So I was more than happy to tell them that I’m ready to stop walking on this beautiful flower path anytime. Then, I saw the heartbroken look in my mom’s eyes. That look, it’s— it’s haunting, and hurt me profoundingly.”

His breath hitches, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Knowing that he’s in such a vulnerable state but there’s nothing you can do about it hits so hard that you hate yourself. “There was a man who came up and met me in my hospital room one day, told me that he saw every single play that I’ve participated in. He wanted to sponsor me, to let me fully enjoy my own youth, to give me the money to fly to the States, to get a lung transplant, and lead me to stardom afterwards.”

“But..” He suddenly chuckles. “I have no desire to receive his generosity. Not even one bit. Now, before you start yelling at me, hear me out. I know that I’m selfish, I know that I’m being stubborn but the life that he’s talking about. That’s not the life that I’ve always dreamt of. The life that I wanted, is one where all of my family and friends, are eternally safe, and happy. That’s it, it’s as simple as that. Hence, I’m willing to give that chance to someone else. Someone who’s very special and close to my heart.” 

Hyunjin lets out a muffled sob on the other line and you’ve never felt so helpless before. You just wish you could run to him, tell him that everything’s gonna be okay, and touch him. You don’t know how someone who’s so close can be so far away at the same time. 

“Because.. well, because cystic fibrosis isn’t just leading me on a path that’s one step closer to death, but it’s also threatening the happiness of the girl I’ve unfortunately fallen for. Unfortunately, that is. She’s always been the biggest ‘what if’ because there were nights where insomnia would creep up on my spine, it was impossible to shut my eyes with her on my conscience. Because why me ? Why me ? I just need a little bit more time, just a little so that I can see her smile, so that I can hold her close, so that I can finally tell her how I really feel.” 

“Time is a currency that you can only use, not make. And I’m already running low. Obviously, I can care less even if I die tomorrow. But as long as I’m alive, let me live as merrily as possible, as happily as possible, and to be able to see my loved ones as long as possible.”

Just then, it feels like the whole world just stops spinning when all you can hear is the sound of your shoes tapping against the ground, and him sobbing like a distressed child, raw deep down from the inside. You didn’t realize that you’re crying uncontrollably until salty drops of tears trickle down on your cheeks and drench the collar of your shirt. They blur your vision but you keep on running because Hyunjin needs you, he needs you now. 

The icy grey sky is like a piece of fabric draped over the whole town. Dark clouds snuggle closer to each other as they hold in the heavy rain in their delicate forms. All of a sudden, rain pours over you with a roar, thunders grumble vigorously in the distance. The coldness of its touch pierces right through your skin and chills run down your spine beneath your clothes that are now soaking wet. Your footsteps never once falter and continue to move on down the slippery path. 

“To love you as long as possible.” Hyunjin breathes out, as light as a feather. “Y/N, I hate to break it to you but I no longer want to be friends with you. Because I already love you too much to accept the label of being best friends.” He says with such determination and huffs. “With that being said, I’ll now consider the ring on my finger as a proposal. And to answer your question on my birthday, yes, I would love to walk with you on this path with the remaining time. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, to care for you, to be someone that you can lean on. So what do you say ? Are you ready to take my hand and my hand only ?”

“Yes, I am.” You stop once you’re right in front of the café that Jisung used to work in, where many unforgettable memories were made throughout time. And on the opposite side of the road, is Hyunjin. Your knees grow weak at the sight of him. Damp hair, teary eyes with a smile on his face. He’s absolutely ethereal and it’ll only take you a few more steps to get to him. “Hyunjin !” You wave at him, the balls of your feet automatically send you running towards his direction. 

You feel like you’re hazing because everything’s all too good to be true. How he’s looking at you lovingly, how you’re yearning for his touch, how you’re so close to have him in your arms. Sadly, the sound of rubber tyres hissing against the concrete floor snaps you back to reality. Before you can even process anything, there are two lights ahead blinding your eyes. With a jolt, you realize that those lights belong to a car. 

You didn’t know how it happened but the next thing you know is the feeling of the entire weight of your body is pinning you to the ground. Every single limb, every part, every organ inside your body feels like they are being crumbled like a piece of paper. Pain, there’s so much pain. The metallic taste of blood is soaking through your teeth, leaving you in that weird grey area between being awake and being unconscious. You can feel your flesh being torn open, your bones cracking, your lungs caving in for cramped air in silence. Silence, that scares you more than the blow itself. It feels like an eternity, just lying there, completely paralyzed as you wait for Death to arrive. 

It seems as if the agonizing pain is the only thing that's keeping you alive. 

“Y/N ! Y/N !” Hyunjin calls out to you helplessly as he cups the sides of your cheeks. Seconds later, you can feel his mouth against yours, giving you the amount of air that your lungs has been dying to have. “Y/N, stay with me, stay with me.” He mumbles against your ear before wrapping your arms around his neck to carry you on his back. Hyunjin is chasing time through the night, through the hellish downpour to not waste a single minute, a single second to keep you safe. Because he’s just so sick, so fucking sick of life for taking everything away from him. He’s not gonna lose you, not like this. 

“Hyunjin,” You whisper weakly.

He shakes his head. “Don’t fucking die on me or I’m never gonna be able to forgive you.” 

“Hyunjin, I’m kinda sleepy.” You laugh, tasting the coopery blood inside your mouth. “I’ll just take a nap, just for a while, okay ?” Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, you can’t tell whether he’s just being stubborn or he can’t hear you with the heavy rain down pouring onto him. But that doesn’t matter anymore because you’re far too exhausted to start arguing with him. Naturally, you’re going to allow yourself to black out either way. 

nine.

Weeks later, you’re standing on the rooftop by yourself to run away from the stuffy air of the hospital, those floors and walls that all have an undertone of bleach. They suffocate you, everything does. 

You watch the sunset at horizon, enjoying the majestic sight in front of you as if it’s the last thing you’ll ever witness. Rich hues of red, yellow, orange blend into one another gracefully, dancing in between the pink fluffy puffs of clouds. Your spirit soars into the distance as you inhale deeply, feeling refreshed after a long day. It does feel nice to not have all sorts of machines attached to your body like ropes that are tying you down into a single place and trapping you inside a tiny box. 

Everyday, you’d sneak out of your room to come up here, and meet him again. 

“Y/N,” You close your eyes, smiling at the sound of his voice echoing inside your ears. “By the time that you’re listening to this audio, I would probably, you know, be gone.” 

A single tear silently roll down on your cheek. “But I’ll tell you what. I’m not scared of dying, because having the persistent information that I’m always one step closer to hell than everyone else has accidentally made me numb. I am terribly afraid of one thing though.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “I don’t want to be separated from my friends, my family, and from you. Moreover, I don’t want to see the people whom I love so devotedly suffer just because of me. I know what you’re doing, wipe those tears off your face right now. Chin up, and smile. Or you’ll end up complaining about your face getting puffy again.”  

You laugh at his words, and attempt to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. “Once I’m no longer walking on this flower path with you, that means a new chapter is ready to be open. I cannot thank you enough for bumping into me that day. And thank you for agreeing to practice my lines with me. I could have never played Captain Hook if it weren’t for you. And thank you, for the ring, it’s the most precious thing I've ever had on my hand. But I’ve figured… you deserve a new life. I know that five years doesn’t sound like much but maybe in those five years, things might change and there will finally be a cure for cystic fibrosis.”

“You might think, how could you possibly move on without me ? Well, think of me as a dandelion. Oddly charming, with a short life span. But I’ll never really go away because at the end of its life, a dandelion’s pistil will give birth to countless of seeds. Those seeds will be carried away by the wind and continue to grow, to breed, to multiply themselves for so many more purposes.” 

Hyunjin suddenly starts crying quietly, you can hear how he’s trying to muffle his sobs and it makes your heart shatter into a million pieces. There’s absolutely nothing that you can do. “I’m very content with the life current that I have, or had. At least I’ll die knowing that I have no regrets.” He chuckles. “But there’s still something that I need to tell you, just in case. Not to be pessimistic, but just in case.”

“Y/N, I love you, more than anything in the whole wide world. It’s so frustrating because there were times where I wish I could just have you in my arms, to feel your warmth, to kiss you, to touch you. I don’t care about labels because that wouldn’t change my feelings for you. I’d still love you foolishly because I care too much. Too much that it hurts. I want to spend the little amount of remaining time with you. I even don’t know if you’re the one but I need you in my life. You and only you.” 

His voice cracks. “...just don’t miss me too much, okay ?” 

You can swear that it’s not hazing but if you look far enough, Hyunjin is still there, waving at you with a smile on his face. 

Approximately six feet away. 

[savannahsdrabbles]

Ocean Song - Part Six

rating: PG summary: Marine biology student April O’Neil makes a startling discovery.

notes: 5k words - this chapter is a big boy! A03 link can be found here. Special thanks to @cloakedrabbitand @starfiretheninja for beta-reading!

Being constantly together meant that there wasn’t always a need for names in his family; no matter where they went or what was happening, a brother was always within earshot. Besides, surviving as a group often called for one to put aside the concept of ‘I’ and ‘me’, and instead focus on the importance of ‘us and ‘we’.

Us, Brothers. We, Father and Sons.

Individual names were thought of as precious things to be shared. To be called by name was one of the most intimate ways of being identified – it was a way of telling the other that they in particular were important and cherished and held a special place in the speaker’s heart. Being given a name was a special gift, and to be able to give someone their name was an even greater honor.

Father had given them their original names when they were still very small, cooing the sounds as they burrowed into his worn white fur and drank in the warm, safe scent of each other.

Small. Brave. Strong. Clever.

The chirped sounds were a reminder of his love for them - a verbal affirmation that he held them dear.

Once Father had passed, those names became something almost sacred in their family and were reserved for only the most special of occasions. They were spoken primarily in times of overwhelming emotion, such as during a particularly harsh winter when Strong Brother brought home a catch large enough to feed the whole family for many suns. The turtles had gathered around him that night, churring happily and celebrating their brother’s great and likely life-saving accomplishment.

Other occasions were less joyous but just as intimate, such as on nights where one of them startled awake from a terrible nightmare – an event that happened more frequently since Father’s passing. Brothers would huddle around their frightened member and press close, filling their ears with whispered names and reminding them that they were safe, they were home, and they were loved.

At this moment he yearned for nothing more than to be drawn into one of those tight embraces, cool scales and warm breath tickling his skin as the sound of his name chased away the surrounding monsters.

“Brothers here, Clever. Clever Brother safe.”

He blinked his eyes rapidly – one of the few body parts he could still move – as tears blurred his vision and began to roll down his face. The cold, hard object that had been clamped around his neck vibrated softly, a cruel imitation of the cool skin and hummed tones he was desperate for. The turtle bit down on the inside of his cheek and roughly chewed in an attempt to distract himself. No, he couldn’t cry yet, no matter how much he wanted to. For now he had to stay alert. If death was to come, he wanted to face it and be brave. That’s what Father would have wanted.

An acrid scent filled his nostrils as the ground swinging beneath him slowly transitioned from light to dark, and the harsh lighting above was replaced with a handful of flickering orange lights. The turtle let out a soft grunt as they came to an abrupt stop, his momentum continuing to carry his head and arms forward until they collided against the human called Ivan’s back. Before he could process what was happening, the hands holding him shifted to grip the edges of his shell and he was twisted around to face his captor.

Ivan stared down at him for a moment, his brown eyes seeming to note the turtle’s lolling head and the tear tracks that ran up either side of his face before he smirked. “Alright, in ya go.”

The turtle felt himself being turned again and then he was shoved into a small, dark place. He gasped softly, eyes flicking around to take in the new, colder enclosure. This one was much different than the other prison – it was much smaller, offering him only a few inches of movement on every side, and made of a shiny silver material that looped together to form an interlocking web. Several other prisons lined the one that he was being placed in, signifying that there was room for other prisoners if necessary.

The icy floor beneath his skin vibrated rhythmically as a mental image rushed to his mind, causing his already twisting stomach to gurgle a warning. No. Brothers safe. Brothers not here.

“Th-that cage is fairly small for a creature his size – and he should really have some source of water-” the red furred man that they had called “Doctor” leaned around Ivan as he attempted to peer into the silver prison. Waves of pity emanated from the human’s eyes, so similar to the expressions Red Girl and Boy Human had given him.

The turtle squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to shake his head and erase the memories from his mind. They hadn’t come back for him. Father had been right about Humans – they only sought to hurt and destroy. Their promises and looks of pity meant nothing.

All of the sudden a hand reached out and gripped the back of his neck, causing his eyes to snap back open. A warning hiss bubbled out from the back of his throat.

“Oh hush,” Ivan tapped sharply on the bridge of the creature’s snout, then leaned into the touch as he shoved the creature further back in the cage and swung the door shut. The turtle could still see through the metal links as Ivan latched the cage and reached into his pelt to retrieve what looked like a large gray egg. The man tapped the shell once, triggering a low beep from the object around the turtle’s neck. He gulped, bracing for the worst, and then barked in surprise as a wave of tingling warmth began to slowly wash over his body. It was an odd, hot sensation – like the feeling of urinating after a cold swim – but it was welcome. The turtle shook his head and gave a small sign of relief as life began to creep back into his limbs… until Ivan clicked the egg a second time and the weight came crashing back down.

“Eh, better keep you still for now. Just in case.” The large man twirled the egg between his fingers for a moment, looking thoughtful, then tucked the device into an inner pocket on the van door. Once he was certain it was secure, Ivan grabbed the doors and looked back over his shoulder. “You’ve done enough, Dr. O’Neil,”

The doors slammed shut with an air of finality, plunging him into darkness and making him whimper softly.

Seconds later a roar screamed at him from every side, and then a sudden jolt of movement sent him crashing into the cage door. He clenched his now bruised jaw as the rumbling continued to slide him back and forth, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust and then locking onto the door pocket that shifted in and out of his line of sight. He hummed in determination. That was it – his ticket to freedom. He needed that egg.

***

Okay, so it turned out that car chases were a bit difficult when you didn’t have a plan and didn’t want to alert the other car.

The Jonesmobile had exploded from the parking garage with a vengeance, spitting up gravel in its wake, only for Casey to quickly second guess his actions – a rare occasion and one to be noted – and slam on the brakes. He killed the headlights, essentially casting a cloak of invisibility over the Jeep, and waited impatiently for the van to put a bit more distance between them before gunning the engine. The two vehicles weaved their way through Hamato Lab’s property, the Jeep’s headlights staying dark until they emerged onto the freeway. There weren’t many other cars out at this time of night, but it was just enough for the teens to be able to blend into traffic without tipping off their target.

“We need a plan – is there a rest stop or something coming up? Maybe we can wait until they stop and confront them then?” April leaned down to retrieve her laptop from the floorboards and started to pull up a map of the highway. “I’m not sure where exactly Oroku Inc. is located, but I know it’s at least several hours away; they’ll have to pull over at some point to-”

“And then what? They’ll stop to get some Funyuns and we’ll break into the van?” Casey tapped his blinker as they changed lanes, moving the Jonesmobile one lane closer to the van and pressing on the accelerator. The Jeep rumbled beneath them as they powered forward. “As much fun as that sounds, I don’t think it’ll work – one of the goons will probably stay behind to watch the car.”

“Ugh, you’re right,” the redhead moved her hands to her face and rubbed her temples vigorously as if to stimulate brain activity. “Okay, okay. Did they lock the back of the van before they drove off?”

Casey shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road as the van signaled right and began to change lanes. “I don’t know – you had a better vantage point than I did.”

“I don’t think they did, but I’m not one hundred percent sure. But if we can get them both away from the car for a bit maybe one of us could get in through the back and pull him out?”

“Hmmm…” the boy hummed, impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought.

Ahead of them, the van signaled once more and began angling towards the nearest off ramp. Casey waited for half a moment before doing the same. He’d never driven on this part of the coastal highway before, but he could tell at a glance that the traffic was a lot less dense on the upcoming side street – meaning that there would be less cover and the goons would quickly catch on to the fact that they were being followed. If they wanted to take advantage of the element of surprise, they needed to act soon.

“How good are your acting skills?”

April blinked in confusion. “My what?”

“I have an idea. Just follow my lead – and brace yourself.”

Before April could ask any more questions, Casey jammed his foot against the gas pedal and the car rocketed forward like a sugar-high child released into Disney World. The girl shrieked in surprise, hand swatting at the roof as she grabbed for the ceiling bar and held on tight. The Jeep careened onto the off ramp, narrowly missing the siderail as they powered down to the lower level. Streetlights whipped by, illuminating the inside of the car in photographic bursts. Casey’s crazy, wild-eyed grin. April’s confused but determined resolve. The gap between them and the van began to close.

50 feet.

40 feet.

30 feet.

“Casey-!” April braced herself, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut as she prepared for what was sure to be a colossal collision. But then, without warning, Casey jerked the wheel and they blew past their target. April pried an eye open just in time to see the van whip past and start to shrink in their rearview mirror. “What the heck are you doing – we need to be behind them!”

“Just trust me – I saw this in a movie once!”

Once Casey seemed to be satisfied with the distance between them and the other vehicle – at least ten car lengths – he threw his right arm in front of April and slammed on the brakes.

Tires screamed in protest, immediately chorused by the voices of the Jeep’s passengers. Casey’s left hand gripped the steering wheel, fighting to keep the car under control as it skidded from side to side. A second screech joined the cacophony of noise, and April squeezed both eyes shut again as she waited for the impact that never came.

Then, with a crunch of gravel, everything stopped moving.

The two teens slumped forward in their seats, chests heaving against their seatbelts as they attempted to steady their racing hearts. As soon as she was sure that they were still alive, April turned her head and gave a snort at the shell-shocked expression painted across Casey’s face. “You good?”

The boy moved slowly, prying a white-knuckled hand off of the steering wheel and slowly patting it across his face and body in search of injuries. “I… I think so. You?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” April closed her eyes in relief and nodded breathlessly, then turned sharply in her seat as she threw a punch to Casey’s shoulder. “What the heck was that?”

Casey recoiled, color flowing back into his pale face as he attempted to dodge her flailing fists. “I have a plan – I told you, just trust me!”

“Trust you? After you tried to kill us? Boy I-”

“You call that crap driving?” A voice boomed from behind them, followed by the slam of a car door being kicked open. April tensed, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. Both of the men they had seen at the lab emerged from the van, looking every bit as shaken and angry as she felt.

“Like I said – follow my lead!” Casey grabbed April’s hand and squeezed once as he hissed his words. Without any further explanations, the teenage boy unbuckled his seatbelt and threw himself out the car door. He started speaking even before his feet had touched the ground, voice pitching into a pitiful and unsure tone as he turned to the approaching goons. “I am so sorry, sirs! I don’t know what happened – I was just driving along and all of the sudden I lost control of the wheel! Are you two alright?”

Now that they had headlights and streetlights to illuminate the situation playing out, April was able to give the Oroku Inc. employees a once over in the rearview mirror. They were definitely enormous – both solidly built men each standing at least six feet tall and towering over even Casey’s lanky form. She squinted, eyes straining to read their nametags as they passed the Jeep’s bumper and continued to move closer. Anton and Ivan. Those certainly didn’t sound like any Japanese names she’d ever heard – maybe they were transfers to Japan, like she and her father? Then again, these guys didn’t really look the part of well-educated scientists – more like club bouncers that had been handed official nametags and set loose.

“I think that something is wrong with the flux capacitor – I heard it making noise earlier this morning and thought to myself: ‘Self, you need to get this fixed’ and by golly look where that got me now.” The men continued to stalk forward, shoulders hunched and not speaking as they got within an arm’s reach of Casey. The boy stepped backwards, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips as he continued to ramble.

Okay, this didn’t look good.  Time to step in.

Taking a deep breath, April pushed herself through the passenger side door and did her best put on a mask of nervous innocence. “Oh yes, I hope that we didn’t scare you two gentlemen!”

Both mens’ heads whipped around to face her, as if just realizing that there had been a second person in the Jeep. They glanced at each other, eyes sharing a quick conversation, and then Anton gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Not at all, Miss. We were just checking to make sure that the driver of this car was alright – you were driving a bit erratically back there.”

“That’s because my girlfriend really has to pee!” Casey interjected. “We were speeding to get to the nearest gas station.”

April blinked, taking the moment of temporary darkness to roll her eyes back into her head before nodding and crossing her legs awkwardly. “Err, yeah. I really gotta… go.”

The bigger of the men blushed and glanced between the two teenagers. “Oh. Um, well then if you two are okay, we’ll let you go on your way-”

“No!” Casey and April both yelped at the same time, startling the two men and catching each other off guard.

“I really need help to get my car running again, and you can’t leave us stranded out here!” the teenage boy gestured towards the hood of his car and shrugged helplessly. “I totally suck at cars – I mean, look what happened! If I don’t get this fixed, someone else might come along hurt us or something and then I’ll have to tell the cops what happened and –”

“Alright, alright, we’ll give it a quick look,” the black man interjected with another tight smile, though his eyes betrayed a deep aggravation with the turn of events. “Ivan, you’re good with cars, aren’t you?”

“Good enough,” the white man shrugged and started to roll up his sleeves.

“Thank you so much, gentlemen, we really appreciate this,” Casey gave a small bow as the two men moved to the front of the Jeep and started to raise the hood. Before they could get started, he turned back to April and continued to speak in his lilting, false voice. “It’s pretty quiet out here, Babe. How about you go behind these nice men’s car and see if you can find somewhere to take care of business? I think their van will block you from the road.”

April nodded. Okay, maybe Casey knew what he was doing after all. “Okay, Babe. Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone.”

Casey gave a wide grin, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Impossible.”

Before he could continue playing along and dragging things out, April turned and slowly started to make her way into the darkness. The van was still running, making her cross her fingers and pray that the back of the car would still be unlocked. If it wasn’t, she wasn’t sure how she could go about stealing the keys from the cabin without alerting Anton and Ivan.

From behind her, she heard a shouted “DUDE SHE’S PEEING, DON’T LOOK!” and bit back a snort. Bonus points for dedication on Casey’s part.

Moments later Casey’s voice resumed its awkward tone, assuring her that the goons had turned their attention back to the car. “So I always forget - how often are you supposed to change the oil in your car? It’s like once a year, right?”

April wanted to laugh at the absurdness of this all, but she knew that she didn’t have time to waste. The red head walked slowly, trying to appear calm before she ducked behind the van. Anton had apparently jerked the wheel when he slammed on the brakes, causing the van to fishtail and come to a stop at an angle – perfect. She waited in the shadow of the vehicle for a few seconds, half-expecting one of the men to charge around the corner, and then reached for the door handle.

“Please be unlocked, please be unlocked.”

Click. 

The van door swung open, and April was suddenly face to face with the turtle.

A wave of relief rushed over her, and the girl grinned as she reached for the sliding latch on the front of his cage. “Oh thank God – are you okay?”

The creature hissed loudly, his narrowed eyes locking on hers and shining with anger. “No!”

She hesitated, drawing her hand back and watching as the turtle trembled in the low light. “Hey – I don’t know what all happened after we left, but I’m here to help.”

“No! Human hurt!”

April bit her lip. He was right – she could see the scrapes on his arms and face where it looked like he had been roughed up, and the humming collar on his neck didn’t look good. Casey cleared his throat in the distance and continued to talk loudly, but she could tell by his tone that he was starting to sound less confident. She didn’t have much time to argue.

“Listen – I’m going to need you to trust me.” She whispered as she raised her hand to the latch again and slid it open. The turtle gave a low grumble, but made no move to snap at her or fight back. “I’m sorry that those humans hurt you, but I promise that that’s the last thing I want to do. Casey and I are trying to get you home. You know, home with Small Brother?”

That was the key – she could almost see the switch being thrown in his brain as soon as she mentioned his brother.

Once the latch was undone, the girl slowly extended a hand into the cage. “Trust me, ok? Just come with us, and we’re going to get you home.”

The turtle regarded her hand for a moment, then moved his eyes to look past her. “Egg.”

April froze. “Egg?”

“Egg!”

“I – I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means?” They didn’t have time for this – April reached into the cage and tried to grab for one of the turtle’s legs to pull him out, only to brush against the collar on his neck. The metal buzzed slightly, sending pins and needles through her fingers and causing her to jerk her arm back. The tips of her fingers felt numb to the touch, and she flexed her hand to force blood back into them. “Ow – what the heck?”

The turtle blinked up at her almost apologetically, then turned his focus past her once more. “Egg. There egg-egg-egg-egg-egg!”

The collar – maybe that was why he wasn’t moving? So what did an egg have to do with this…?

Casey yelled in the distance, and April froze. “Can you check my gas tank as well? I filled it up last week, but maybe I’m running low?”

“Fine, whatever, Kid! Just stop yelling – they can probably hear you from Tokyo!”

That didn’t sound good – Casey was running out of things to distract them with.

April turned in the direction that the turtle was looking and reached into the door pocket. Immediately, her hand closed around something small and round. She pulled the object from the pocket and held it out to him. “This?”

“Egg!” he chirped excitedly, still not moving but eyes shining with child-like excitement. “Egg egg egg!”

“You doing okay back there, Babe?” Casey’s strained voice floated around the corner and she gulped.

“Almost done,” she called back, trying to keep her voice even as she turned the device over in her hands. There was only one button on the object, so that meant it had a 50/50 chance of helping. Taking a deep breath and praying that it would do what she hoped, April pushed the button.

A beep sounded from within the cage, and April heard the turtle sigh with relief. He didn’t make any moves to climb out of the car, but she could tell that something was happening as the turtle slowly turned his head from side to side and looked up at her with eyes full of adoration.

“Hurry it up, little miss! We’ve got to get back on the road!”

Okay, no time to wait. April shoved the small device into her pocket and reached into the cage to hook her arms under the turtle’s armpits. “I’m sorry if this hurts, honey, but we’ve got to move now.”

The turtle’s legs trailed limply behind as she hauled him out of the van and attempted to lift him fully into her arms, only to stumble backwards and nearly drop him. Nope – not going to work. He was surprisingly heavy despite his small frame. April grunted as she shifted her hands and tried to hug the turtle to her chest with his head resting on her shoulder. His arms still dangled at his sides, twitching occasionally as feeling started to flow back through them, and the turtle let out a nervous hum.

“I gotcha, bud. We just got to figure this out –”

“Dude, you can’t interrupt her when she’s going to the bathroom -!”

“She’s taken long enough – what’s going on back there?”

Before she had a chance to consider her next action – fight? flight? - two sharp cracks rang through the night followed by the sound of multiple heavy objects hitting the ground. Less than a second later, Casey barreled around the back of the van and nearly crashed into her. His eyes had a wild shine as he quickly took in the situation and then lunged forward to scoop the turtle out of April’s arms. “We gotta go!”

April gave a grateful nod as the boy shifted the turtle into a bridal carry and tucked the creature’s head under his chin. “What about -?”

“I gave us a few seconds – now GO!”

The teens exploded from around the van in time to see both men moaning and slowly pulling themselves to their knees. The splintered remains of a hockey stick lay scattered at their feet, clearly telling the story of their downturn. April gulped as she leapt across Anton’s long legs and threw herself into the passenger side of the Jeep. Across the car, Casey pulled open the back door and quickly dumped the turtle onto the bench seat with a “sorry, dude.”

“You will pay for that, boy,” the white man snarled as he rubbed his head, then raised his eyes and let out a yell. “He’s got the turtle!”

“Thanks for the car help, guys!” Casey scrambled to the driver’s seat and threw himself inside, managing to slam the door behind him right as Ivan lunged for his arm. “Really appreciate it!”

Another hand slapped against the passenger side door, and April shrieked as it was yanked open. Anton towered above her, a deep scowl on his face as he reached down to unbuckle her seatbelt and drag her from the car. “CASEY! DRIVE!”

“On it!” Casey’s foot slammed onto the gas pedal and the tires spun madly in the gravel, searching for traction and throwing small pebbles into the air. April continued to scream and kicked out, her flailing legs connecting with Anton’s chest and sending the man stumbling backwards. Across the car Ivan pounded on the backseat window, yelling to be let in as the turtle squawked in terror.

Suddenly, they were off! Tires gripped the road with terrifying ferocity and the Jonesmobile went flying onto the pavement.

Casey yelped as the car lunged forward, nearly overcorrecting and sending them back off the other side of the road before he could get a firm grip on the wheel. He let out a whoop of excitement as the Jeep powered down the coastal highway, aiming for a small side road that wove above the shore. Soon the van and two screaming men fell into the distance, and both teens sighed in relief.

“Freedom, here we come baby!”

Their celebration was short-lived, however, as a loud BANG suddenly cut through the darkness like a knife.

April’s eyes widened, and she turned to look out the rear window just as headlights burst to life behind them. Another loud BANG echoed through the air, and then something thudded into the back of the car. “Oh my gosh – they have guns!”

“Oh heck no – we are not dying today!” Casey gunned the engine, forcing the car to work harder as they drove onto the rocky, winding cliffside road. “Look at your computer – see if we can find the nearest police station or something!”

“Uh – sure – ok. Keep your head down!” April lunged towards the floorboards, her hands flailing to catch the laptop as the car started bouncing and shaking violently. Small bangs and thuds echoed against the Jeep, and she wondered how many of those were rocks being kicked up versus bullets being intentionally lodged their direction.

A heavy weight thudded behind her and April whipped around, wondering if another bullet had connected with their car, only to see that the turtle had slid off the seat and landed on the floorboards between the bench and the back of the drivers’ seat. His arms flailed helplessly, clearly having regained enough life to move but not to push himself back into an upright position.

 “Here – ” Keeping her head down, April pushed a hand against the turtle’s shell and rolled him back onto the seat. The creature chirped in surprise, but continued to flail his arms around as the car began to shake even more violently. “What - are you going off road?”

“I am until you find directions – ” Casey had to raise his voice to be heard over the chaotic combination of bullets, rocks, and squawking coming from the back seat. “I’m trying to throw them off!”

Another BANG rang through the night, shattering the back window as a bullet lodged into the ceiling just above Casey’s head.

“Dude – that could have killed me!”

“I think that’s their point!” April ducked her head down again and started typing frantically on her laptop. She wasn’t even sure what to search for. The police? I mean technically they were the criminals in this situation – but the other guys were shooting at them, so they were clearly in the wrong, right?

Casey let out a whoop as he jerked the steering wheel to one side and then the other, eliciting a shriek of metal as the Jeep sideswiped the guardrail that separated the road from a steep drop into rocky, wooded area. The van was getting closer now, its headlights shining brightly in the rearview mirror and making it impossible to look back without being blinded.

“This is totally wicked!” Casey hollered as they took another sharp turn, tires spinning and spitting gravel up into the windshield wipers. “It’s kind of like we’re in an action movie, ya know?”

“You’re insane - and slow down on those turns – and calm down!” the red-head snapped first towards the driver, and then over her shoulder as the turtle continued to yell wordlessly and scrabble to get a grip in the torn upholstery. Her hands flew across the keyboard – maybe she could just find them directions to another side road where they could lose the people pursuing them?

Another loud BANG rang out, and then a large jolt rocked the Jeep first to one side and then the other. April’s eyes snapped up from the computer just in time to see a bridge pass them on their left… while the Jeep continued to plow forward into open air. “CASEY! BRIDGE!”

***

Somewhere across Osaka, a phone rang.

[shadowofthelamp]

You know what’s kind of fun? Going back to something you first thought of before you were ten, and then trying to actually write it. This is a sort of ‘chapter’ in the middle of what I could remember of the original idea of Negative Sonic. The version that made it to ffnet when I was twelve was fairly different. I think I’ve given enough clues to the context that you can go in and figure out what was going on.

I should draw the actual Negative Sonic form mentioned in here at some point, but I haven’t drawn Sonic himself in years, f.

Tails could have at least made the cage bigger. He knew how little Sonic liked small spaces. Okay, so it already was about the size of an big room and the actual walls were transparent so he could still see out, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still cramped when it came down to it, and Sonic only had about thirty steps to pace in any given direction. 

On top of that, there were bars outside the walls to reinforce the chaos-absorbing material so they wouldn’t buckle when hit from the inside. He liked those even less than the actual cube, because they reminded him why he was in here in the first place. 

The fact that he could slightly see the way the air rippled around his navy-blue fur and how his eyes were still red spirals if he looked at his reflection in any given wall didn’t help either. Fortunately, there was a friendly face coming through the trees to keep him from dwelling.

“How are you doing?” 

“Been better, but at least my fur isn’t a shaggy mess this time.” Sonic said dryly as Tails clicked something on his remote and a small hole appeared in the front of the cube-prison, just large enough to stuff a plate through. Small miracles- at least Tails wasn’t depriving him of home-cooked chili dogs with extra onions, just the way he liked them. “Any new info about how to get me back to normal? Dark and gloomy is kinda Shadow’s thing, and I’m already past over it.”

Tails sighed as Sonic stuffed half the chili dog in his mouth, the hedgehog chewing as Tails started explaining himself. “Unfortunately, I just don’t have enough information yet. Your body handles purely positive chaos energy fine, but whatever Eggman did with the negative energy seems to have stuck, and it’s using your natural chaos field to sustain itself. I’m trying to get as much passive data as I can just from the containment unit itself, but working with chaos is always hard, you know that.”

“Wouldn’t be chaos if it wasn’t weird, right?” Sonic fiddled with the golden bracelet on his left wrist. It was helping a little, at least. He wasn’t used to trying to regulate chaos energy for this long, and it felt sort of the same way that standing on the edge of an ocean did- ready to sweep you under in a second if you so much as twitched wrong. This was Shadow’s thing too- Sonic much preferred chaos as a complement to speed and well-timed physical attacks, a finisher to get the job done instead of overwhelming everything from the start. It was no fun if you just blasted the other guy out of existence before he even had a chance to put up his dukes.

Somebody really needed to tell his body that, though, and his fingers curled around the inhibitor with a groan. Tails hurriedly shut the plate-hole via remote, the material sealing itself up so smoothly it was as if there hadn’t been a seam in the first place. 

“Come on, Sonic, you can fight it!”

Static. Static and shadows creeping into the edge of his vision, a bubbly burning working from the inside out. His feet had already left the floor, gravity less than a suggestion, and normally he loved playing chicken with physics to see how long it took the ground to realize his feet were pounding the walls and ceilings, but now he was weightless and weighted at the same time, hyperaware and yet not aware at all.

“Tails...” The ‘s’ hissed out, air too hot as it pushed against his teeth.

“That’s it, focus on me!” Tails’ baby blues were wide, hands curled into fists just below his chin. “If you can just fight it off by yourself, it’ll give me enough data to figure out how to force it. You can do it, I know you can!” His tails were spinning without lifting him up, the way they did a lot when he was laser-focused on something. Something clattered against the floor a million miles away.

“Ghh...” Sonic dug his nails into his palms all the way through the fabric, a sharp shock, but it just piqued at the spiral clawing out of his brain like a bloodhound, diving towards the pain because pain was good, pain was life-

Tails’ ears lay flat as the thing tilted Sonic’s head.

“Heyyyyyy, Tails.”

“I can wait you out, you know.”

“Sure you can. You and I both know you wouldn’t risk hurting your big brother, would you?”

The voice sounded so close that it hurt. It was the same vocal cords making the same words, but Sonic had said he had almost no memory of whatever happened with these slips- it was as if the negative energy hijacked his body for brief spurts of time. Now, it had planted a hand on the wall nearest Tails, black chaos warping the air around it and burning from wrist to fingertip as its fingers and palm lay flat.

“Sonic can take a lot,” Tails said. “He’ll get rid of you.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.” It raised an eyebrow. “I wondered how long it might take you to put two and two together, but desperate times and all that.” When it tapped its index finger against the wall, a grin started prying Sonic’s lips open, exposing teeth that really should not have been that white considering he’d just eaten. “What do you get when you stick someone in a chaos-absorbing cage?”

“You not breaking out and blowing everybody up?” Tails replied, raising an eyebrow of his own.

“Well, yeah, that, but what is chaos energy when it’s inside somebody?”

“It’s a lot of things.” Where was it going with this? “It can help spark extra abilities in those who can tap into it, and it can be used to create energy for attacks and stuff.”

It used its other hand, rolling the wrist in a ‘go on’ motion. The inhibitor had been dropped to the floor at some point. Tails hadn’t noticed. He scratched at his chin, thinking.

“It’s the spark of life...” At that, his eyes snapped open. “And-”

“Theeeeere we go.” It leaned back, sneakers floating off the floor as it gave a sarcastic clap. “The little fox just figured out he’s killing his hero the longer he keeps him in this over-glorified doggy crate and out of the air that lets him absorb chaos naturally.”

Tails swallowed. “I just need to find a way to get rid of you before Sonic runs out of energy.”

“Well, I’m great at running, so let’s see who wins the race against time, huh?” It folded its arms behind its back, staring down at him, showing more teeth than seemed possible. “Clock’s ticking, Tails.”

The leaves nearly lit on fire from how fast Tails launched himself up to head back to the workshop.

[autismisaokay]

could u rant about rats, please?

OH BOY, ya’ll asked for it so here we go.

I’m going to educate you all on one of the most loveable of the Rodentia family, fancy rats. Otherwise known to rodent lovers as, pet rats. We start with these charts I found on google image because I think visuals are better at explaining.

These are different types of domesticated rats excluding the albino which is usually used as a lab rat. But they do make wonderful fancy rats as well! Since they are albino their vision is extremely blury as to where other breeds of rats see much better.

The brown or Norwegian rat is also excluded from this chart because they are usually the ones you find in your home, ally ways, trash, and other places you don’t want them. Another rat that is common to be a problem especially in farming areas and in homes is the black rat. If not domestecated they can cause real problems. In Alberta Canada, it is illegal to own a pet rat due to an outdated law from the 1950s. You can get up to a 5,000 dollar fine if you are caught with pet rats. The reason why it’s such a big deal is back then they almost caused a famine in crops leaving a lot of people very hungry and farmers losing livelihood. Many people think this law is unfair and is trying to abolish this law with a petition you can sign.

Here’s the link.

https://www.thepetitionsite.com/436/044/115/legalize-pet-rats-in-alberta-canada/

As a side note undomestcated rat’s teeth are so sharp they can eat through bricks. Please do not try and pick them up not only for diseases they may carry but some have the ability to chew very deeply into your skin and hit possibly beyond muscle.

Now here are the different types of rat patterns they can have.

Now that you’ve seen what fucking artists with DNA they are. Let’s get onto some other facts about them.

A common mistake that is made by first-time rat owners is they get only one rat. Fancy rats always need to be in at least a group of two. They are very social pack animals and their lives are significantly impacted if it’s only one of them. They can have depression due to being isolated from other rats. Most fancy pet rat owners will have up to two to four at a time.

They also need a lot of attention and love to and make fantastic cuddlers if you breed and train them correctly. They like head petings, climbing, sitting on your shoulder, and doing something called “grooming.” It’s where they will lick and gently nibble at your body. Generally your nails and if they catch you off guard they will take a look inside your mouth and try grooming your teeth or lips. They are huge clean freaks and rival cats in cleanliness. They groom themselves a lot and will actually challenge each other in grooming or ask for it.

Cages are a biiiig deal. An average size rat cage you want is a 72cm x 36cm x 44cm. You will want them to have shelves and lots of toys. If you use the search bar to look for ratblr, pet rats, or fancy rats. You will find a lot of rat owners posting their cages and tips on how to keep them fun and clean. Rats intelligence is no joke so make sure the bars won’t let your rats slip through and try having food balls. Food balls make it a game for them to get their food out and excersies their minds and bodies. Most rat cages are filled with hammocks, igluoos, baskets, cardboard, tissue boxes, and ropes they can use to climb across the cage. You will also need fill for the bottom of the cage for them to use as a bathroom. Rats can be littler box trained but you can do that at your own descretion. Fabric is imporant because they can use as not only bedding but to pad the shelves. Don’t worry if they chew or eat the fabric their bodies can digest it. Other good rat toys are dangles with food and of course, chew toys. It’s how they keep good dental health and their teeth from growing out of control.

You will catch these hands if I see you using a clear tank if it’s not only putting them in for cage cleaning time. Or because you have a naughty rat that needs to be separated because they’re harassing a cage mate.

Rats can learn all sorts of amazing tricks and a common game they like to play is fetch. The best treats to use to get them to learn is yoggies, honey free cheerios, plain spaghetti, and hard boil eggs. They are also huge buffoons for fruits. A rat will face you at gunpoint for some bananas or berries and win 100% of the times.

Since we are talking about food if you’d like to use a pellet based food my recommendation is Oxboro.

How to figure out if your rat is happy is if they are doing something called bogging which is where their eyes pop in and out of their heads like this

Sometimes it means their stressed but usually happy. Same for something called pancaking or flat ratting. Flat ratting can also mean their hot so please make sure they have plenty of water and aren’t overheated. The most common way to see if they are relaxed is if their ears are back and loose looking. They can also hop around like rabbits too when they are happy.

As a word to the wise DO NOT EVER leave anything of value near them or your cage or they will steal it. That hoarding thing is not a myth and they use everything you give them to either eat or make part of their cage.

An here’s a picture of my last pair of boys before they passed on their names were Vergil (phantom of the opera looking baby) and Roman (the chestnut one).

[mauserfrau]

Eyeshine, Part 1 - Bordertober

HEY KIDS WHO WANTS TO SEE THE TWINS ON THEIR SHIP HEADED TO PANDORA.

IT’S REALLY TINY.

AND THEY’RE HAVING ENGINE TROUBLE.

...or are they?

Lots of Tyreen eating and some other general nastiness from her.  Appreciably Claustrophobic.  

The jump brought them to a space so empty it didn’t even seem black.  No— darkness rested between other stars, far off and distant.  Here was a clear nothingness, out of reach of the rest of the universe.  

Tyreen drifted at his shoulder.  He could feel her fuming.

Neither of them had made much sound since they’d stopped.  The lights were low, the gravity still off and wherever they were now, it seemed like there hadn’t been a sound there since the galaxy formed.  A word from either of them would disturb this.

Besides, this wasn’t Pandora.  This wasn’t even the Pandoran system.  Or any system.  This was nothing.

“Stars move, you know,” Troy said, fumbling the silence apart.

“It’s only been like twenty years,” insisted Tyreen.  “They can’t move that fast.  We should at least be able to see it!”

He gestured a spiral with his hand.  Did she even care that the star cluster where Nekrotafeyo had grown spun opposite this one, that they were blue-shifting verses each other and that had choked the navigation system?  He decided to summarize.  “I think the computer’s a little off and umm...”

“Umm what?”

“I might have overcompensated for stellar drift since I ended up doing it manually.”

“Troy!” She made his name sound like she’d broken something.  He half-expected a slap.

“Look.” He forced calm into his voice and turned to face her as he spoke.  

She was livid, her whole body tense and her hair standing on end.  

“We can’t run out of power.  We jumped just fine.  We have water.  We have food.  We have a working toilet.”

“And where are we!”

“I’m gonna run an extrapolation and figure that out while the jump drive resets.”

“Can’t you math it in your head?”

“Um.” Sighing, Troy turned back to the view screen, focusing first on the blank reach where their ship rested, then letting his vision float to the stars.  The blackness lived between them, but in some strands there was no between, only points of light thick enough to make mist out of each other.  “I kinda don’t think so.”

Tyreen groaned and swam off towards the bed.

*

Tyreen moved better in zero g than he did.  Troy was always twisting around to his left to push, pull, founder.  Still, he hated to turn the gravity back on.  There was something about watching her float above the bed with the covers billowing around her.  She seemed so right like that, singular and and easy and in this case put out.  

Her Coeus reader was flickering lately.  She ended up groaning and setting it loose to float through the cabin where Troy caught it.

She also said— “Hey, turn the heavy back on.  I gotta piss.” 

“Alright.  On three.  Three.” Troy threw the switch.  His back crunched as weight returned to his spine through the seat at the command console.  His sister landed with a thump.  Their foodstores yelped and howled and shed feather-forms along the floor.  Tyreen caught herself with a huff and pulled herself into the water closet, giving the cage of spindly hexlings a sour look before she shut the door.  One of them shrieked after her.  Troy shushed it and went back to the console.

The keys pressed easier with weight back in his body.  He pulled up the extrapolation program.  Another likely set of coordinates failed a final round of testing and ticked away.  The system was working to match the spectrographic information of visible stars to known clusters as far as he could tell.  Color seemed such a tenuous way to determine place, but that might have been the emptiness intruding on his thoughts more than anything rational.  Besides, he kept thinking he had somehow spied the white supergiant that held Pandora out among all the other points of light.

Troy was tempted to ask his sister to try.  She was the siren.  She might be able to do it if she listened across all the dark matter between them and that place.

She was still in the water closet.  

Troy let the extrapolator run in the background and idly tabbed into the superstructure of the ship’s hard drive.  It had been made to be piloted by someone with little skill, all of the command icons in welcoming jelly style art with three to four clicks needed to access any functions more complicated than the gravity or the sublight engine speed.  He’d picked the interface up fast enough, but modifying the OS to accept a jump drive had been more hours of frustrated keystrokes than any actual handiwork.  

Every system responded in good order.  He’d done the same check once they’d cleared Nekrotafeyo’s gravity well and before the jump.  The only difference was thousands of light years to nowhere and the bottom falling out of his stomach halfway there, not more than a heartbeat.  

He even dug into the audio system.  If Tyreen asked, he wanted to be able to tell her literally everything was fine.

A handful of loose example recordings bothered the top folder.  Troy thought about moving them, but the system considered their poor placement de rigeur and complained when he tried.

Tempted to try, he clicked down the list, which was when he realized: one of them had a different date than the others.

He leaned over a speaker and hit play, curious what had been loaded on this particular sound test file.  Since that was probably it.

Instead, he heard Dad say, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little minx.  Yeah, that’s a good girl.  Let me see those eyes shine.  I love it when you...”

He slammed stop.

There was somebody else on the file too.  They were laughing that bubbly way he knew happened, but he barely remembered as something he’d experienced in his own life.

Troy stared at the file.  He breathed again.

A thump sounded behind him and Tyreen came tripping out of the water closet, pants around her ankles and her underwear yanked up in her fist.  “What the hell was that?”

“Ah, system check.  Since we’re here, you know.”

She growled and she sat down right where she was and in the puddle of her pants.  “Warn me next time.”

“Your intuition didn’t tip you off?”

Those words didn’t even merit an answer.  She closed her eyes and turned her back to him.

The ship was so small he only would have had to lean out of the chair and he could have had his hand on her.  She wasn’t in the mood though, not about that, not about anything to do with Dad and definitely not about playing siren anytime before they made planetfall.

And well, then she wouldn’t be playing anymore, would she?

*

Maybe that fact had settled funny someplace in her stomach.  Troy just knew that after a while she stole her Coeus back and stood in the corner, smacking the screen.  The extrapolation program ticked off another hundred coordinates that didn’t suit, approaching 50% complete at a crawl.

Tyreen peered over his shoulder, but said nothing about the progress bar.

It looked like half of their chances for finding themselves had been spent.  Troy thought it was more of a best match situation.

He wondered what he would do if he was wrong.

The jump drive ticked down to usable quiescence.  Tyreen swore and started to get back into bed.  Instead she kicked her pants off and stretched out belly-down on the floor which was chalky with the bookmarks of the night they’d left.

It had only been two days.  He thought.  The active time on the sublight engine monitor was somewhat misleading.  Startup had taken so long, but he’d been fumbling all over himself, movements thick with the shock of what he was about to do.

What Tyreen said they were doing.

Like, she just… dragged him.  Now?

Now there his sister lay, looking like she’d melted into the ground.

“What’re you staring at?” she muttered without looking up from the well of her arms.

“Mm.  Nothing,” Troy murmured.  “I was thinking about when we were kids.  That game we’d play about not getting off the bed back when we only had the one and...” Well, he thought about that a lot, even though it hadn’t been bothering his mind in that moment.

Tyreen sat up, still hunched over.  Her Coeus rattled in her grasp.  Eventually, she tipped it into one of the charging slots.  “I’m eating now.  You want in?”

“Sure.”

Food was something to do anyway.  Troy hauled himself out of the chair and got himself into the cupboard after some of the stale rye bread they’d taken from the stores back at the homestead.  He checked it for mold and then also took a plum.

Tyreen picked over the cages with a tongs.  Did she want manta eggs? A hexling or two? A flush of air coral and sprat? One one of the lonesome baby Djira mewing in their own slime?

She took two eggs.  

The two of them hunched together on a sheet of tanned air algae.  Troy’s plum was sour, but he sucked the pit clean while Tyreen stared at him.  As he reached for the bread, Tyreen shoved one of the eggs at him.  “Open it for me.”

Troy sighed.  Speaking of games from when they were children— Tyreen could have eaten the egg regardless, but he’d gotten awfully good at spinning the tops off with his knife and one hand.  He smiled and he did this for her now, placing the egg on a spare sack so that his sister’s leavings would spread through the ship, get into the Instruments.  

The egg squished as she pressed her fingers inside.  It turned to dust and glass.  “Hmm.  That was fresher than I thought.”

“Good.  Want me to do the other one too?”

“Sure.”

So, he sliced again.  He was going to have to wash his hand before he finished his own super as much as the second egg leaked.

This time, his sister stared at her dirty knees.  “Are you sure you didn’t fuck everything up?”

“If I did,” Troy said softly.  “Then we’ll deal wi-...”

Tyreen sucked the other egg down, sloppy now, sand leaking between her toes.  She grabbed the piece of rye and stuck it in Troy’s mouth before burrowing into the bed and covering her head with the pillow.  

Troy chewed thoughtfully and then moved to clean up.  The baby Djira chortled in their cages as though night had fallen.  Well, it was that time by the engine clock.  

*

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Overgrown Metal

Series Summary:  Almost two decades ago, the fae rose up from beyond the veil with technology far surpassing the human race, quickly taking over after laying waste to nearly everything in their wake. Now eight paths cross to right the wrongs on both ends, working to uncover secrets that would have rather stayed hidden

Chapter 4: Snarling Dogs

Trigger Warnings: caps lock for yelling, swearing

Remy tried not to breathe in too deeply as he dodged and weaved around people and stalls alike in the crowded marketplace. Sellers shouted out their wares and prices for everything from the rare pilfered canned goods to...less than sanitary goods. Metal, body odor and sewage from a nearby line made opening ones mouth a less than favorable option making him extremely grateful he lived and worked with Remus and didn't have to earn a living up here. Adjusting his hold on the grocery pack slung over his shoulder he dodged a family looking through a selection of warmer clothes, the girl trying her best to swipe a pair of gloves unnoticed. He silently wished them luck. A family of thieves lasted only as long as their latest trainee failed to get caught.

Nearing the exit to the marketplace his shoulders sagged with relief, quickening his pace as he stairs came into view. Old and cracked as they were he was always surprised their little city lasted as long as it had; hastily made and as ramshackle as any other put together out if the desperate hope for a safe haven, the underground establishment boasted three levels all separated by concrete slabs taken from surface buildings and steel bars that were about the only steady thing about the place.

He had almost made it to the first flight of stairs when he heard a short cry coming from an alleyway close by. Whipping around he gripped the groceries tighter and wandered over in the direction it had come from. He knew he'd be chewed out by Remus for this but he always hated leaving anything curious alone, whether it be for gossip or guilts sake. Just a quick peek, he thought as he rounded a corner. Scope it out and then either let it be and have something juicy to tell his husband later or help someone who needed it and have something juicy to tell his husband later. Win win either way.

Finally spotting two figures at the end of a dim alley way between two storage buildings he squinted harshly as he set the groceries down and crept forward. One of them was saying something, and the closer he got the less he liked it.

"...be fine sweetheart. It'll be quick and easy and then they'll take care of you for the rest of your life. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"I don't want to." Remy's vision flashed red at those words, the taller man clearly leaning closer to the woman, caging her in his arms. He tried to be as silent as possible, debris scattered around making it hard to place his feet quietly. He had gotten only a few feet away when it seemed like the man was done playing whatever game he had going on, taking something out if his pocket and sneering down at his prey.

"I'm not so sure you have a choice." Remy had seen and heard enough, standing up and running forward quickly he brought his left arm up and swung back before pitching forward, throwing all of his weight to clock the man just right in the side of the head.

The woman shrieked as the man crumpled instantly, not without Remy wincing as a couple of his fingers starting sticking in place as the knuckles fought to adjust to the now bent frame. Shit, now Remus really would be mad. Though it hardly mattered at the moment, turning to the terrified woman with what he hoped was a friendly smile. He froze for a moment following her line of sight to his shining hand.

He flexed his fingers in a mock wave, mechanical digits creaking a bit from the impact they had barely endured. He chuckled nervously and put it in his pocket. "You like it? My husband got it for me"

Trying for humor seemed to be the key as she let out a nervous giggle, flicking from him to her attacker and back again. He looked down and nudged the prone man with his foot, an odd device that he must have dropped catching his eye. A stylized snarling dog insignia was engraved at the side of what almost looked like a dart gun, eyes widening as he realized what it was.

"He was going to chip you?" The other startled as she bit her lip and looked away. Putting the peices together he supposed it made sense. Society members sometimes came to lower settlements to scope out fresh meat for whatever it was they did to the people they indoctrinated. He had heard scant details from Remus from his own time spent in one as a child. He looked down his nose at the man. Hopefully he hadn't gotten a good look at Remy's face.

"Do you need an escort home? I promise I have better manners towards people who aren't trying to attack someone."

The woman shook her head, carefully stepping around both him and the man. "I'll be fine now. Thank you, for what you did."

With that she turned and ran, which Remy couldn't blame her for, you didn't really make friends in this particular city. Sniffing indignantly nonetheless he turned on his heel and made his way back to his groceries, hauling them up with his good hand and making his way home.

Niether of them had noticed the small, blinking red light at the end of the chip gun.

----

"You're sure this will heal?" Remus huffed as he tied off another stitch, the gaping wound in his patient's arm finally closing and ready to be bandaged.

"If you keep it clean and don't fuck it up again it'll heal just fine." He ignored the soft "language please" from across the from and focused on slathering antibacterial ointment over the wound before getting out a roll of gauze. "I'm the best in the business, you'll live. And if your arm does fall off I have plenty of replacements!"

He grinned as his patient paled somewhat, taking in the rows of neatly arranged mechanical limbs the small office was most known for in the black market. "Do you- do you get all that metal from the fairies?"

"Mmm, technically I guess. We get some of it from Hunters that come by and trade the metal for supplies, sometimes we trade for aluminum or dig around scrap vulture packs for odds and ends. One man's trash is another man's polished trash, and I'm the best there is!" Tying off the gauze with an of finality he turned as the door opened. "Remy you're- WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR HAND?!"

The unholy screech that left Remus' mouth left everyone in the room and a mile wide radius wincing from the volume. Remy, for his part, had the presence of mind to look at least a little ashamed, scuffing his toe along the floor and hiding the mangled, twitching limb behind his back. "I uh, fell?"

Remus' eyes darkened as he stood up. "Everyone out! We are now closed! Emile, the baggy!"

Scrambling around the desk Emile grabbed the patients to go bag which was swiftly grabbed up and thrown in their face. "Out! My husband is more important!"

"Remus!" Despite Emile's chiding the office was cleared relatively quickly as Remus stalked forward with his hand out.

"Groceries down. Walk and talk. Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt anywhere else? Where did you go? Wh-"

"Babes!" Remus snapped his mouth shut as Remy's protest and the lankier man sighed. "I got curious when I heard someone scream and ended up punching some dude in an alleyway for trying to chip a woman. Probs a Society member. They didn't see me, I just fucked my hand up."

Remus looked up as his hand was squeezed. "I'm okay."

Huffing he turned back to inspecting the ruined prosthetic, wincing as the other hissed in pain as he tried moving the digits. "Okay. Okay we'll...wrap these for now. You're damn lucky Emile and I have been working on something better for you."

Remy raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Well now I won't tell you because I'm pissed that my husband's an idiot without one brain cell to rub against his skull for some self preservation!"

Remy grinned and leaned back, accepting the pain killers Emile offered with a grateful nod as his fingers and hand were carefully wrapped to keep them relatively still.

"How much did you get for the scrap?" The question snapped him out of his thoughts and he pursed his lips as he looked over to the abandoned groceries.

"Enough." He didn't want to mention prices were starting to drop and it was getting harder to negotiate for fair ones. Food and materials were starting to get scarce and a lot of people were starting to talk about leaving their little society for more promising ones that didn't operate with such delicacy. He always knew it would happen eventually, but he figured their little family would be long gone by then.

Remus grunted in response and Remy closed his eyes tiredly. Navigating his way through all the levels and people for hours was always exhausting, he couldn't wait to go upstairs and slip into their bed for a quick nap before dinner.

"The bags under your eyes are big enough to hold the groceries themselves, go to bed. I'll be up in a few minutes." Remus punctuated this by flicking the tip of his nose, to which he only recieved a lazy grin in return for his thoughts being answered so quickly.

"Yes sir." Despite his exhaustion he winked playfully before getting up slowly and giving Remus a peck on the lips, waving quickly to Emile before turning and heading towards the stairs.

"And actually go to bed! No coffee!" Emile called after him as an afterthought, to which xe recieved a few low grumbles that xe hoped was in agreement. Neither xyr cousin nor cousin in law had the best sleeping habits, and their constant caffeine consumption did nothing to help it.

"We did actually finish that right? I forget if we did that or another project." Emile turned and smiled wryly.

"You really need to start using to do lists. We did them both at the same time, so yeah, Remy's hand is done. It's in the bottom drawer in the filing cabinet."

Xe started tidying up the office as Remus rummaged around in the cabinet. Biting xyr lip xe voiced a growing concern. "Do you think it's a bad sign Society members are starting scope this place out? We're pretty far away from the closest ones and those arent nearly as dangerous as some can be."

Emile almost wanted xyr words back as Remus stiffened, but the other only shrugged as he waved the hand he found back and forth. "It's fine. Those dogs go sniffing around everything they don't have their teeth in already. Probably just some recruitment that I'm very happy my brave and dashing husband discouraged."

"Right." Emile rolled xyr eyes and placed xyr hands in xyr hips. "Well, everything's cleaned up so I'm gonna head downstairs to file whatever papers you left."

"You're such a doll! I'll have dinner ready soon yeah? Remember to lock the door!"

"Already did!" Returning the kiss blown in xyr direction xe headed down to the basement quickly, blueprints trapped safely against xyr chest to sort through with all the others. Xe knew xe shouldn't worry but...with xyr cousin's history-

Xe shook xyr head quickly. It would be fine. It had to be. Xe had finally gotten a little bit of xyr family living under one roof for quite a few years now. No Society member was going to make xem fear that being taken away from xem. With determination burning xyr veins xe flicked on the light and turned towards the worktables.

Groaning xe set the stack xe was holding down with all the other and dragged xyr hands over xyr face. ADHD be damned xe were still kicking Remus' butt come dinnertime.

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[rachel-writes101]

Konnect: The Mistake

Emily Rook hoped this would be the incident that would cause Oscar to see sense but she wasn’t going to hold her breath. Nor was she particularly happy about the way things were playing out.

Despite her ordering (and often pleading for) him not to go to the industrial ring her little brother hung out there almost every day. The ring of warehouses and abandoned factory lots wasn’t exactly old. Most had been built in the 90s during the technological and industrial boom that had decided which companies got to rule the Copperby skyline. But it was still dangerous. There were all sorts of chemicals in the soils and some of the under-maintained buildings had collapsed. And the space was a haven for criminals – particularly with the main streets of Copperby regularly patrolled by a superhero.

Not that Oscar had the sense to not visit the ring because of any of that. He had been there that evening, messing around with his friends. The details of the story were a little unclear to Emily but she gathered one of Oscar’s gaggle of bad influences had heard a noise and the group had decided to investigate. The noise had been coming from an old warehouse and the boys had been right outside when they had heard what sounded like a voice calling for help. The singular brain cell her little brother possessed had convinced him not to go in and investigate. In fact, he had pulled out his phone to call the police and had intended to do so until he had been spooked by a noise from the warehouse. Later Oscar would dismiss it as a prank, say he wasn’t really scared at all. But Emily knew her little brother too well and even if she didn’t, a group of fourteen-year-olds didn’t run scared for no reason.

Emily hadn’t wanted to go out there at all but Oscar had dropped his phone in his mad sprint back and had told her he had no intention of going back alone. She had driven him as close as the road would allow and followed him as he picked his way over to where he believed his phone would be.

She couldn’t ignore the way her brother glanced around furtively. He jumped at every shadow, tried to stay in the pools of moonlight.

“It was probably just some kids playing a trick.”

She just wanted him to get his phone so they could get out of there. Their parents would be getting back soon and, even if she ignored the fact they would be furious at Oscar for dropping his phone, it was dark. Every second they were there was a second they could be mugged.

“It’s that one,” Oscar said, pointing out a warehouse on the horizon.

It was a decrepit building, exactly the sort of place that Emily had feared her brother was hanging out at. She went to head towards it but Oscar caught her arm.

“What if it’s still in there?” he hissed urgently.

Emily shook his arm off.

“It was probably just a kid playing a prank. You said so yourself.”

She had hoped it would be enough to get Oscar moving again but his feet never moved. Emily gave an exaggerated sigh and turned, calling over her shoulder that the faster they found his phone, the faster they could go home.

She was almost half-way to the warehouse when Oscar decided he would rather be at his sister’s side than standing in the middle of an open space alone. He gave a strangled cry and hurried after her, almost colliding with her when she stopped dead.

There was the sound of a motorbike’s engine in the air. Emily looked back at the road and grimaced. The bike looked just like any other motorbike but the rider was instantly recognisable: Konnect. The city’s superhero.

The moonlight made her white hair look like a trail of smoke behind her and her costume, all silver and blue, shone like metal. She stopped her bike a short distance from where Emily had parked and seemed to be speaking to someone as she killed the engine.

“Konnect?” Oscar gasped. “Maybe she can help me find my phone.”

Emily shook her head and began to usher her brother towards the warehouse. Konnect rarely came to the ring unless there was a crime that had brought her there. Emily did not doubt that a fight was about to erupt. She wanted herself and Oscar on the other side of the city before that happened.

“Let’s just get your phone and get out of here.”

Sensing the urgency in her tone, Oscar nodded. He let her lead the way over to the warehouse and grinned when he found his phone nestled in a bed of weeds just at the edge of the concrete border. There was a door ahead of them, the door Oscar had been considering going inside just then.

“You got it?” Emily said, grinning when she saw her brother hold up his scuffed mobile. “Let’s go.”

Oscar chewed on his lip, his eyes playing across the door.

“Maybe we should look inside. If there is someone…”

He trailed off.

Emily bit the inside of her mouth and felt like shaking some sense into her brother. However she stopped herself. She strutted forwards, grabbing the handle of the door. She desperately hoped that it was locked. When she felt the door give at her turning of the handle, she knew she had mistakenly hoped for one thing that day to go right. She edged the door open and peered into the gloom. Oscar shifted closer to her, partly so he could look into the room and partly out of the need for comfort.

The room was too dark for them to make anything out for a few moments. Emily squinted, sure she could see something in the centre of the room. She fumbled along the side of the wall for a light switch and yelped when there was suddenly light from her side. Oscar turned to her, shining the torch on his phone directly into her eyes.

“Oscar!” Emily snapped, turning away.

She rubbed her eyes as black spots swum through her vision. Oscar moved past her, ducking into the warehouse. Emily went to call him back but her words caught in her throat when she heard her brother speak.

“What on…?”

His voice trailed off, snatched away by a wave of confusion. Emily battled to clear her vision and followed him inside. Oscar’s torch was trained on the object she had seen before. It was a cage, narrow – not wide enough for a person to lie down in – but tall enough for a person to comfortably stand in. It was completely bare, nothing to indicate what had been inside it. However, Emily knew exactly how the thing had gotten out.

One wall of bars was completely bent outwards, torn up from the bottom and wrestled upwards like a garage door. Oscar looked at Emily, eyes wide.

“What could have done that?” he hissed.

Emily sent him a look that was meant to ask how she could possibly know an answer to that. However, the moment was snatched by a terrible growling from behind them. Emily felt her heart stop. Her stomach twisted. She went to look over her shoulder but couldn’t bring herself to turn the entire way. Oscar looked and screamed.

Something slammed into him. The torch went flying, skidding across the floor. The light was fixed on the ceiling. Emily could hear the terrified cries and screamed Oscar’s name in response. He never managed a clear reply, terror stealing all sense from his words.

Emily began to sprint towards his phone. If she could get to the torch, get some idea of what was going on, she might be able to save her brother.

Suddenly blinding light flooded the warehouse. Emily rubbed her eyes feverishly, trying to make sense of what was going on. She heard Oscar’s cries fade, replaced by a horrific growling sound. Then she sensed movement nearby. She forced herself to brave the brightness and realised every light in the warehouse had been turned on. Beside her stood Konnect, staring defiantly at something across the room.

Emily turned. She bit her lip to hold back the yelp that almost escaped her. A monstrous creature was bearing down on her brother. It was the size of a lion with tufts of black hair erupting from blistered, rash-ridden skin. Uneven serrated teeth hung from its open mouth. It was on all fours over Oscar but rose up onto its back legs when it saw Konnect. Emily watched as the bones in its hips mashed into place. Then a roar forced itself from the thing’s throat.

“What is that?” Emily screamed as it took a step towards the two of them.

Konnect raised a hand, electricity arcing between her fingers as a warning. Emily almost stumbled back as the creature let out another deafening roar.

Then it lunged towards them.

The three fingers on its hands were each tipped with a long claw that swung through the air millimetres away from the two of them. Konnect let a blast fly out of her hand, the electricity slamming into the chest of the creature. It collapsed onto its knees, arching in pain.

Konnect shoved Emily in the direction of Oscar as she made her way towards the creature. It snarled at Emily as she edged towards her brother but Konnect clapped her hands, bringing the beast’s attention on her once more. It forced itself to its feet again and charged. Konnect dodged just in time, firing a shot of electricity at the creature as it passed her.

Emily reached Oscar and scrambled to check him over. He was bruised, a little confused and the skin around his neck was covered with shallow cuts. He stammered over a response, clinging to his sister as she pulled him close.

Emily looked up just in time to see the beast charge at Konnect again. The hero wasn’t able to dive away fast enough. A sharp claw cut through her costume, drawing blood as it slashed her arm. Konnect cried out, a hand immediately flying up to stem the bleeding. The creature seemed satisfied, something akin to a cackle falling from between its jagged teeth.

Konnect fired a blast at it. It dodged and sprung towards her.

The hero stood there, staring down the monster. She let it come closer and closer, so close that Emily was sure she was going to be taken down. Emily looked away, trying to cover her ears with her shoulders to keep out the inevitable screams.

Then there was a flash of light. Emily felt the hair on her arms stand on end at the energy in the air. She heard something heavy hit the floor and turned her attention upwards.

Konnect was standing over the supine form of the creature, hands raised in preparation for having to deal another blow. Emily could see the blood on one of Konnect’s gloves, the wound on her arm stopping her from raising it fully.

Seeing her injured, standing over such a large beast, Emily realised Konnect wasn’t much older than her younger brother. She removed her coat and folded it neatly, tucking it underneath Oscar’s head. He barely seemed to notice, staring in terrified awe at the hero and the creature. Emily crossed towards Konnect.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked, nodding towards the cut on her arm.

Konnect looked at the wound as though she had forgotten it was there. Emily supposed it was possible when adrenaline took over. Konnect carefully slid her hand back in place covering it and told Emily it was fine.

“Going to be hard to cover.”

Konnect paused for a second before signalling for Emily to stay quiet for a moment. Then the hero tapped her own forehead.

“Hey, it’s down. Image should be coming through now. Can you ensure the police know what they are dealing with?”

Emily waited for some voice to sound, unsure exactly who Konnect was talking to. However, after a long moment of silence, Konnect gave Emily an expectant smile.

“What is that thing?” Emily asked eventually, looking at the crumpled form of the creature.

Even unconscious, skin slightly singed from the blast that had taken it down, it was still terrifying. Emily was certain she would not be standing so close if not for the presence of the superhero.

“Lab accident. I received word it was being smuggled into Copperby as part of a cover-up,” Konnect explained. “Thought I should get it into the hands of someone responsible before someone got hurt.”

Emily nodded, looking past Konnect. Konnect crossed the room silently and picked up Oscar’s phone. She gestured to Emily’s little brother.

“He should be seen by a doctor. He doesn’t look too bad but I think he hit his head when…”

Konnect looked down at the creature and Emily nodded. She carefully guided Oscar to his feet. He was a little unsteady, his eyes a little unfocused. Konnect handed her Oscar’s mobile and asked if they had a way of getting to the hospital. Emily reassured her they did. She began to help Oscar out, looking back at the creature and Konnect when she reached the doorway.

“Do they happen a lot? Lab accidents I mean?”

Konnect paused for a moment and then grasped what Emily was carefully enquiring. She sighed.

“More than you’d think. But sometimes good comes out of them.”

“Thank you,” Emily said before leading Oscar out into the night.