#fingers crossed that i stop zombying soon cause i hate it here but nothing i’m doing is getting me out HDJDHDH

[alwaysmarveling]

Laryngitis

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Nat’s a protective girlfriend and you may or may not be sick

A/N: I somehow just realized that since yesterday was Monday, by my unofficial posting schedule, I was supposed to post something yesterday. Sorry for missing it, but I hope you guys enjoy this :)

The annoying beeping of the alarm filled the pitch-black room. Not fully awake, you realized Natasha didn’t have to be waking up this early, so you shot up to turn off the clock before it could wake her up. Just as you were fiddling with the buttons, a groan from beside you told you that you were too late.

“D’you have to go already?” your girlfriend asked, her voice husky and slurred. You whispered back to her in an effort to not wake her up completely.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for waking you, Natty. Go back to sleep.”

“You don’t have to whisper, babe. We both know I’m not going back to sleep.” You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes slowly to pull yourself into consciousness. She was right; Natasha was a light sleeper, and once she was up, she was up. “Don’t worry about it, dorogaya. Means I can do your hair for you.” That brought a small smile to your face. Not only was Natasha amazing at doing your hair, but it was always an intimate moment between the two of you that both of you loved. As long as Natasha wasn’t away, she made it a point to do your hair for you, even if you two were in an argument with each other.

A small cough brought you back to the present moment. You weren’t sure what it was, but you just weren’t feeling it today. You thought it was the sleep at first, but it was never this hard to wake up, and it wasn’t like you did anything particularly exhausting the day before. Shaking out your arms, you dismissed the thought and slid off of the bed.

“I’m going to go get ready first.” Both you and the redhead froze at your voice.

“Are you okay, detka?” You leaned over the mattress to gently rub at the deep crease between her brows, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, I must just have something stuck in my throat.” The spy chuckled at your response, but you could still sense an uneasiness in her.

“Go drink some water. Does your throat hurt or anything?”

“I’m fine, Nat.” She simply hummed, watching as you shuffled into the bathroom. You may or may not have told your girlfriend a little lie, but so what if your throat hurt? You’d be fine in less than an hour. You didn’t want to worry her over nothing.

When you were finished in the bathroom, the lights in the room were on, and Natasha was now sitting on the edge of your bed, legs crossed.

“Come sit.” She tapped the small footstool in front of her with her foot before returning to her position. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked again as you joined her.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. You really don’t want me to go on this mission, huh?” you teased. Your face contorted at the end as you tried to hold in a cough, and you still sounded like a frog. Still, you tried to play it cool, hoping Nat was still buying your previous excuse. 

“Well of course I don’t want my girl to leave me.” You could practically feel your heart jump out of your chest when she called you hers, but you simply winked at her.

“I shouldn’t be gone long, half a week at most,”  you informed her, sitting down on the stool.

“I’d miss you even if you were gone for five minutes,” Nat murmured, leaning over to kiss the top of your forehead. “Oh my god, Y/N. You are not going on this mission, you liar. You have a fever!” As if she planned it, you shivered as a chill ran through your body.

“Nat, I promise you, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “You sound like a zombie. You look like a zombie too.”

“I- hey!” You didn’t mean to yell as loudly as you did, and it threw you off a little bit, causing you to release a series of dry coughs. Lips pursed, the redhead rubbed your back in an effort to soothe you.

“You are definitely sick, Y/N. Get back in bed. I’ll tell Fury.”

“Natty, you’re not going to-” Before you could finish, she was already at the bedside table, phone to her ear. Damn your girlfriend and her spy skills.

“Hey, Fury, Y/N’s sick with a fever and probably laryngitis. You’re going to have to get someone else to cover the mission.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. You hated missing work. You’d never been one to take a vacation or a day off; for the whole time you’d been working under SHIELD, you only took a sick day once after you’d had to get surgery due to a mission gone slightly wrong. Even then, it took some serious persuasion to get you to do so. You were too busy stressing about missing the mission to listen to the rest of your girlfriend’s conversation with Fury until you heard her calling your name.

“Y/N. Babe? Y/N? Hello?” Looking up from your hands, you met her concerned gaze.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Fury’s asking how you’re feeling.”

“Good enough to go on the mission?” The redhead rolled her eyes.

“Try again. He’s worried about you.” She held out the phone to you. “Fury, you’re on speaker.”

“L/N, how’s the throat? Try tea with lemon and honey, it’ll help.”

“I’m fine, old man,” you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, you really are sick.” Your lips parted slightly, and Nat couldn’t help but chuckle at the indignance written across your face. “Get some rest, L/N. Don’t worry about the mission, it shouldn’t be hard to get someone to cover for you.”

“But-”

“No ‘but’s. L/N, your powers are literally based on your voice. This is a minor mission, but if this goes south, we need someone who can defend themselves to their full capacity. You are way too valuable to be lost just because you got sick. Listen to your girlfriend. Get better soon. That’s an order. Goodbye, L/N. Thanks for calling, Romanoff.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Wait, Fur-” The man hung up before you got the chance to finish. “This is all your fault.” You crossed your arms, turning away from the former assassin.

“Y/N,” Natasha sighed. “It’s just one mission. I promise everything’ll be okay.” She knew well of your anxiety regarding missing work considering she was the one who had convinced you to take the sick day after your surgery. While she hated making you upset, she knew—and if you were being honest, you did too—that you couldn’t go on a mission like this.

“What if I fall behind? Or what if Fury decides he doesn’t need me anymore? Or what if-” Your voice got weaker the more you spoke, partially because of your nerves but also partially due to your illness.

“Babe, as much as I’d love to talk this out with you, you shouldn’t be talking. Your throat is already destroyed, so for now I’m going to need you to trust me and just listen.” She took your hand and gently guided you back to the bed, purposefully avoiding the glare you were giving her.

“You won’t fall behind because this mission isn’t important. Fury said so himself. I promise it won’t affect your performance at work. And Fury will never decide he doesn’t need you anymore because he literally sees you as his kid.”

“He-” Natasha pressed a finger to your lips before you could finish.

“No talking. Yes, he does see you as his kid whether you want to admit it or not. He will also never replace you because you’re one of the best agents he has. He asked you to join the Avengers for a reason, printsessa. He’s not going to fire you just because you get laryngitis one time, even if you fall behind because of it.” Your girlfriend bent down slightly to meet your eyes, which were still directed at the floor. “You’re doing amazing, Y/N. You do so much for so many different people, and now it’s your turn to let people return the favor. Okay?” You stared at her for a second, your face so blank even Natasha couldn’t read it. When you finally nodded, the redhead let out a small breath of relief before giving you a small smile and a peck on the forehead.

“You stay here. I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?” You reached your arms to her, fingers grasping, when she began to walk away. Letting out a light laugh, she turned around and held one of your hands. “I’ll be back as fast as I can, malyshka. Why don’t you pick out something for us to watch?” She let go of you after one last kiss to the back of your hand and left before you could stop her again.

---

Natasha shuffled through the cabinets as the water was heating up in the kettle.

“Morning, Wan, starting breakfast?” the spy greeted the witch.

“Yeah, you’re up early. Y/N’s mission?”

“Actually, she’s sick,” Natasha grimaced. “Fury’s going to reassign the mission.” Wanda let out a whistle as she placed various ingredients on the kitchen counter.

“I bet she didn’t take that well?”

“Nope. But she can barely speak, and even when she can, she can’t speak more than a sentence or two without stopping to cough, which means…” She trailed off as she inspected a medicine bottle.

“No powers.” Satisfied, Natasha put the rest of the bottles away and returned to the now whistling kettle.

“Exactly.”

“Huh, the kid who can kill people just by speaking with a certain tone gets taken down by a virus.” The former assassin chuckled as she squeezed lemon juice into a steaming cup of tea.

“Don’t let her hear that.”

“Which part?”

“Any of it.” Wanda’s laugh rang through the room.

“Is she hungry? I can make some soup after breakfast if she’s up for it.”

“That would be great,” Natasha smiled gratefully, “Thank you so much.”

“Of co- Your girlfriend is calling for you.” Red flashed as Natasha’s head whipped up, confused.

“Are you sure? I didn’t hear anything. I told her not to-”

“No, no, not verbally. She’s just thinking it. Very loudly.” Nat sighed, but the corners of her lips curled upwards at your antics.

“Is there anything the queen needs?”

“Just you. And no medicine.” The spy shook her head.

“Tell her,” she started, tossing a spoon into the sink, “that I’m on the way. With medicine.”

“You got it,” Wanda promised with a wink. “Warning you now, though, her majesty won’t be happy.”

---

Sure enough, Wanda was right. You had already opened your mouth to complain about the medicine in Nat’s hands, but one stern look from her had you zipping your lips closed in a second.

“You take this, in a couple of days you can talk again.” Your girlfriend didn’t need to be able to read minds to understand what you were thinking; your face said everything. “Yes, a couple of days,” she ordered firmly, handing you two pills. “Take them. Here’s your tea, and I also got you a bottle of water.” You gave her a grateful smile before swallowing the pills, grimacing as they scratched their way down your very sore throat.

“Good girl,” Natasha murmured. “Now,” she started with a peck to your cheek, “Do you need anything else? Blankets? A cool towel? Oh, Wanda’s making you soup, by the way, but I could get you a popsicle or something if you want?” You shook your head at all of her requests. Instead, you patted the spot on the bed next to you.

“Alright,” the redhead smiled. “What’d you pick for us to watch?” You pointed to the screen in front of you. “American Idol. You really aren’t making things easier for yourself, huh?” Nevertheless, she slid in next to you, sitting cross legged, and pulled you into her, your head resting on her lap with the laptop placed in front of you. 

“Maybe I can pull an Ursula and use one of their voices for the mission,” you whispered.

“I swear to god, Y/N, if you don’t shut up,” the spy laughed. A smile on your face, you hit play and snuggled yourself further into her.

As Nat ran her fingers up and down the length of your arm, you couldn’t help but relax into her. Sure, your throat wasn’t better by any means, and you had some lingering anxiety about the mission. But if you had to miss a mission, this was sure as heck the best way to do it, with Natasha right by your side.

[wing-ed-thing]

Retail Therapy (Kakuzu x Reader)

Synopsis: Deidara has a new partner for a combined effort with the Zombie Combo. However, something about you has Kakuzu heated.

Word Count: 2,123

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Threat of Violence, Probably Language, Gender Neutral Reader

Notes: Kakuzu content is probably some of the best stuff I’ve ever written. Right now I’m watching a video on fried milk. Ever hear of such a thing? Fascinating.

Kakuzu didn’t like being paired up with Hidan, let alone joint missions where he’d have to deal with even more people. Not to say that Kakuzu hated people, because he did, but he never thought that he’d hate anyone more than he absolutely hated you. He hadn’t even met you yet, but he knew at his very core that you would quickly become the bane of his entire existence.

“Shopping?” Kakuzu asked slowly, the word forming on his lips as if he had an aversion to even speaking it. Deidara leaned back on the large bounder that he settled on and stretched his arms up above his head. The blond nodded with a short groan before his hands came to rest behind his head.

“Yep,” he answered, “And for hours too, so I’d get comfortable.” Hidan plopped down on a patch of dirt below, his back and scythe against the side of the rock. Kakuzu glared down at his partner causing Hidan to shrug. To Hidan, if Deidara thought that the three of them would be waiting a while, he would take his word and make himself comfortable. Kakuzu’s attention turned back to Deidara.

“Hours? What possibly could someone be purchasing that takes them hours?” Hidan gazed up from his spot, head tilted back against the surface behind him.

“And we only came like five minutes late too. Who takes off like that?” Kakuzu almost nodded in agreement, but knowing his partner, Hidan would take any excuse to complain. Deidara shrugged, basking in the warmth of the sun and stayed lounging even as a rustling came from the woods. Hidan’s hand immediately reached up to grip the handle of his weapon and Kakuzu took a defensive stance. Deidara’s eyes remained closed.

“Oh hello, boys! I didn’t know you were here!” You sauntered out of the trees, bags hanging from both arms. They were pushed tightly in a line, every other patch of your skin strained by the handles of a different shopping bag. Even in your altered Akatsuki cloak, Kakuzu took a look at you and immediately decided that you were decorated far too ornately and that he’d like to kill you when he had the chance. You were objectively beautiful, but if Kakuzu had his way, Deidara would have to be assigned another partner soon. “You haven’t been waiting for too long, have you?”

“You shouldn’t have left us waiting at all,” Kakuzu glowered, although not any more than usual. Either you didn’t hear him or you ignored him as you walked up to your partner. You plucked a package from one of your more reachable bags.

“I got you something, Dei-dei!” You threw it up to Deidara weakly but he managed to catch it. He opened the small, folded, paper bag. Deidara glanced down at you with a nod of his head and a fold of his lips. He took the neat band in his hand while you looked at him expectantly. “Aren’t they nice? Hair ties. Silk from a small village in the Land of Water.” Deidara held them up to the sun.

“That’s some great quality you found. Thanks.” Your partner glanced down at you again. “Must’ve been one hell of a fight assuming that you got a good price for it.” Kakuzu looked on at your exchange, increasingly beginning to lose his temper.

“Believe me, I did. And I found a ton of other great finds too. I gotta show you—”

“Enough,” Kakuzu growled and you finally turned your attention his way. Hidan had since passed out against the boulder that Deidara sat on. “You’re wasting all our time. The sooner we start, the sooner we can part ways.” You gave Kakuzu a once over with your nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Well someone’s grumpy,” you mused. You rolled your eyes and pointed your nose upward. Huffing, you threw your shopping bags into the air and as they fell, you swiftly unfurled a scroll. Your new items disappeared one by one. You rolled the paper back up, scowling as you slipped the scroll into one of many slots that you wore strapped to your clothing. The pockets ran down the small of you back and you latched the bundle of paper in place with a flip of your nimble fingers. Kakuzu frowned back, tentatively wondering if all the scrolls you carried contained the same amount of shopping bags. You approached him with crossed arms. “Okay then, tough guy. Let’s get started.”

You sat down and summoned a map of the next village. It laid out in front of you and placed your hands on your knees in challenge. Kakuzu sat down on the other side of the map, eyes boring into you. You didn’t budge. And as you began to speak, it was hard to focus, at least for Deidara. Though he supposed he’s seen you this fired up before.

“It would be easier if we lure the jinchūriki outside of the village,” you said, gesturing to the small, unnamed village on the map. It wasn’t large, but just big enough to serve as a maze for your prize. At least you knew the woods better and a jinchūriki was bound to stand out among the trees.

“I can get up some traps,” Deidara added and you nodded.

“Back them into a corner and cage them into a small space—” You nodded again— “We can use some explosives around the area… maybe here?” You pointed to a section of the map outside of the village. You looked up at Deidara. “You’d be our last line of defense when the jinchūriki tries to run.” Deidara smirked and puffed out his chest.

“Leave it to me!”

“We’ll need someone to drive the jinchūriki out of the village,” Kakuzu cut in, not particularly liking how you dominated the strategizing. “I’ll go with Hidan.” While Kakuzu thought that he would stop at nothing to get away from the Jashinist, this had to be a regrettable first. Hidan napped a few feet away.

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed, “You and Hidan? Psh… might as well have Deidara set off fireworks in the sky that spell out ‘single, hot jinchūriki in your a—”

“I can do that!” Deidara cut in before immediately backing down at Kakuzu’s pointed glare, not that he’d show it. You locked eyes with Kakuzu, taking his fiery stare off of your partner.

“I’ll go. You’re too conspicuous and, really, have you seen Hidan? You two would be spotted a mile away.” Kakuzu almost snarled.

“And you wouldn’t?” You let out a short, bitter laugh. Your left arm supported your weight as your knees touched together on the right side of your body. Kakuzu scowled at your blatant lounging. Everything about you challenged him and he hated you for it. Your lids narrowed in a smug smile.

“I’m not the one—” who’s fuckin’ jacked — “ with big-ass black stitches across my whole body.”

“And four faces on his back…” Hidan called out, still half asleep. You turned back to Kakuzu.

“And four faces on his back,” you repeated, much to Kakuzu’s vexation. The sass in your blinks was lost on the older shinobi. He stood, causing you to stand too. Deidara took a hint and retreated. Kakuzu crossed his arms over his chest and he planted his feet on the ground about the same width apart as his broad shoulders. He pointed two fingers at you harshly.

“And you’re—” Gorgeous. — “a brat. I should just kill you right here.” You stood your ground, daring to slap Kakuzu’s hand out of your face.

“As much as I’d like to see you try, tough guy, I’d actually like to do some quality work and get the hell away from you as quickly as I can.” Kakuzu huffed, gritting his teeth underneath his mask.

“Nice to hear that we’re on the same page.”

And with neither of your partners wanting to deal with either of you pissed off, you and Kakuzu were paired together.

***

Deciding that your cloaks were too noticeable, you sealed yours away. Kakuzu kept his draped across his arm, distrust of you evident. You walked down the road together under the late afternoon, waiting for nightfall. You hoped that striking at night would give you not only the surprise advantage, but also minimize the number of clueless civilians that would no doubt wander in your way. But as soon as your eyes fell onto the market, Kakuzu quickly began to wonder if his stubbornness landed him with an even larger headache. But his usual, standoffish demeanor remained the same. Kakuzu’s eyes drifted to their corners as he scowled down at you.

“No.” That was all he said, as if you would actually listen to him and not immediately march in the direction of the market. He reluctantly followed, every reach to hold you back by your robes falling just a bit short each time. By the time you were stopped, too many people surrounded the two of you for him to pull you away without drawing attention. Normally, attention from others wasn’t anything that Kakuzu would be concerned with, but your two teams had their orders and Kakuzu would be damned if he had to spend anymore time with you.

You stood in front of a booth with your hand on your chin. Kakuzu stood next to you, following your gaze to a simple, but sturdy-looking sword. You gingerly picked it up, carefully studying it’s craftsmanship. The man behind the booth leaned over his table, motioning to the piece of merchandise in your hands.

“Ah, you have a good eye, mercenary.” You glanced up at him.

“Land of Earth? Lots of excellent craftsmanship comes from there, I’m not surprised.” You ran your thumb across the dull of the blade. “Antique too, but still hardy.” The merchant nodded pointing to a few spots across the weapon.

“Could get you out of a bind too. Reliable smithing comes from Tsuchi no Kuni.” Kakuzu looked on at the show in front of him. In stark contrast to earlier, you seemed poised and he found you knowledgeable. You appeared calm and competent enough to handle yourself and for a second, Kakuzu became lost in your analysis.

You stepped back, turning the sword around in your hand to feel out the balance. The blade whipped around your body with ease. The seller softly applauded your embellished practice. Kakuzu almost rolled his eyes, but took some comfort in the fact that you were looking to purchase something of quality and not just anything at the very least. You looked down at the weapon with a nod or two before asking the dreaded question.

“So what’s your price?” The merchant didn’t hesitate.

“A hundred thousand ryō.” Kakuzu almost left right there, but a dominant part of him wanted to know what you were going to do. His hands grasped his biceps, his cloak still hanging from his forearm. Kakuzu watched you closely. You shook your head.

“You’re going to give it to me for twenty-five thousand.” The merchant gaped at the outrageous price you named. He sputtered a few times.

“That price is far too low for this quality. You must be joking if you think I’d sell this fine piece of equipment for practically nothing.”

You did name a ridiculous price. Not even Kakuzu could see getting what you wanted for that price without a fair bit of violence and intimidation. But you ripped into that merchant. You ripped into this poor seller like nothing Kakuzu had ever seen before. He didn’t even know if he could call it bartering, but whatever it was, it was likely one of the most skillful things that Kakuzu had ever seen.

He folded his lips under his mask. You didn’t yell. Kakuzu didn’t even find your appearance intimidating in the slightest, yet every point and number the merchant brought up, you countered. And by the end of the intense conversation, if Kakuzu didn’t know any better and had less of a spine, he’d likely be handing the sword over too. The man had long since started sweating, tugging at his collar. If Kakuzu didn’t see it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it as you handed over exactly twenty-five thousand ryō. He almost overlooked the complete waste of money as he still stood stunned, though not outwardly showing any such emotion.

You nestled the sword by your hip and the seller let out a breath of relief by the time you walked away. Kakuzu followed wordlessly next to you as you strutted off in triumph.

Perhaps he misjudged you. He stared, not noticing as he did so.

Yes, you were going to save the organization a fortune.

Notes: “oH mY gOd KaKuzU sAiD hE wAs GoNna KiLl rEader! wHy wOuLd yOu wRiTe sOmEtHiNg sO tOxIc???”... They’re criminal terrorists, Susan.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[thehermitcraftqueen]

Love Will Chase the Nightmares Away - Fluff, Etho x Tango

It's a routine night for Tango. He's just protecting his base from the mob of monsters that come, like usual. Only this time, he has another visitor. When the monsters are gone, Tango's task changes to comforting the injured and distressed Etho who showed up at his home.

~~~~~

Placed in a Hermitcraft AU of mine.

Slight blood and mentions of death warning.

-----------------------------------------------------

Swords slashed and flames flickered as a battle raged between Tango and the onslaught of monsters surrounding his base. The half-demon flipped back his golden hair and wiped the sweat off his brow, before tossing another fireball at an incoming zombie. Defending his base every night was no new thing to him, but it was becoming worse. The monsters kept returning, getting stronger each time. From what he'd heard, the others were having similar problems, and no one knew what was up with the monsters. It was bad enough already that traveling anywhere at night, alone, was a death wish.

After what seemed like another hour, the monsters finally retreated. Tango watched them go, breathing heavily. He glanced around, his tail flicking in annoyance as he realized how much of the grass and surrounding area he'd managed to scorch, as well as the monsters. That was the one downside to having fire powers--things got burned too easily. The moon was still up, though, and Tango would rather not be fixing his yard if the monsters decided to attack again. He'd fix it in the morning.

With one last glance around to make sure no monsters remained, Tango entered his nether-themed base. Though he'd built it in plains, Tango had decided to make his base out of nether blocks, since they reminded him of home. Even if the nether didn't hold all of his best memories, it still held some good ones; enough that he would be constantly homesick if he didn't do something. So, his nether brick fortress was the result. The soul fire lanterns hanging from the ceiling and the shroomlights carefully hidden in the walls gave it enough light, and various decorations throughout the place were made of different nether blocks to give it some color.

The blackstone couches, covered in black wool to give them some softness, were where Tango headed. He stretched out on one of them, ready to just chill after that fight. Naturally, with nothing else to do, his thoughts drifted to Etho. Tango knew Etho's abilities with his powers, along with most any weapon, were incredible. Theoretically, he'd have no problem defending himself. But Tango couldn't help worrying about him. The monsters were unnaturally strong, and getting stronger. Etho was strong too, but he tended to get closer to them than he should to use his sword more. Get too close, and one mistake was all it took for the monsters to drag you down.

An explosion suddenly sounded from outside. Tango shot up and rushed to the door. Were the monsters back? But if they were, why would creepers be blowing up long before they ever saw him?

As he stepped outside, it took Tango a moment to realize what he was seeing. At first, it looked like the monsters were fighting each other. After a second, though, he realized it was a person in the middle of them--a very familiar person at that.

"Etho!" Tango yelled, shooting a burst of flame at the mob. Some of them fell back, opening a path for Etho. Etho raised his sword and slashed at a few monsters holding him back, then hurried over to Tango, though limping badly. "Get in there!" Tango ordered, quickly gesturing to his base before returning to shooting flames at the monsters. He didn't stop to see if Etho listened, continuously attacking the monsters with his fire until they fled. Once he was sure they were gone, Tango turned back and returned to his base. He faced Etho, who was leaning against the wall in the hallway.

"Sorry about that, Tango..." Etho said quietly.

"What were you thinking?!" Tango demanded. "You know how risky it is to travel at night! You could have been killed!"

"I know," Etho whispered. He sank to the floor while clutching his leg, which was bleeding heavily. Tango couldn't stay angry as worry flooded over him at the sight of Etho's wounds.

"Wait here," Tango told Etho. He headed to his storage room and grabbed a healing potion, then returned to Etho. Etho took the potion gratefully and drank it, sighing as his wounds began to magically heal.

"Thanks," Etho murmured.

Tango nodded a bit. "What happened?" he asked.

Etho didn't meet Tango's eyes. "The monsters attacked me?"

"I know that part," Tango said. "I guess I meant like...what brings you here in the middle of the night?"

Etho didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the floor. Tango realized he must be uncomfortable about something, but he didn't know what it was. Tango set a hand on Etho's shoulder.

"Etho...is everything okay? You know you can tell me anything," he said reassuringly.

"I-I..." To Tango's surprise, Etho's voice was cracking. "You'll think it's stupid..."

"Etho." Tango's tone had a firmness that made Etho look up. His heart broke when he realized Etho was crying. "If it's something that makes you this upset, I won't think it's stupid at all."

Etho took a shaky breath. "Y-you know I don't sleep and...w-when I do it's usually nightmares." Tango nodded slowly, and Etho went on. "T-this time...it was awful. T-they killed everyone...I had to watch everyone die...I-I had to watch you die. I couldn't do anything...and it was so, so vivid. T-that's why I came over. I-I needed to know...that you were okay..."

Etho choked up at the end, hugging his knees to his chest as tears poured down his face. Tango's heart clenched to see him so sad and vulnerable like this. He sat down next to Etho, wrapping his arms around him. Etho buried his face in Tango's shoulder, and Tango pulled Etho close, holding him as he cried.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm okay. We're all okay," Tango said soothingly.

Slowly, Etho began to calm down. After a moment, he raised his head, blinking tears away. Tango met his eyes and smiled. "Better?"

"Yeah," Etho murmured. "I'm sorry-"

"Nope, nope," Tango cut him off. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I won't hear it."

Etho sighed but rolled his eyes. Tango grinned and brushed a thumb over Etho's cheek to wipe away the last of his tears.

"Hey, Tango, I...I hate to ask any more of you, but..." Etho bit his lip nervously. "Can I stay with you for the rest of the night?"

"Do you think I'd say no?" Tango replied. "Of course!" He suddenly thought of something and felt his face get a little warm. "Oh, I uh...only have one bed though. So we'll have to share...not that that's a problem! I, um, it could be fun! Or, wait--I-I mean-"

Tango was cut off by giggles from Etho. "I know what you mean, it's fine."

"Oh, okay, good." Tango knew his face was red after all that. But at least hearing Etho happy again was worth it. "It's about time I got some sleep anyway, now that all the monsters around here are gone. Do you wanna try to sleep too or...?"

"I'll try, I guess," Etho said.

Tango nodded and stood up, offering a hand to Etho. He hesitated, then accepted it, letting Tango pull him to his feet. Instead of dropping Etho's hand afterward, Tango intertwined their fingers before leading Etho to his bedroom.

The bedroom was located in the center of the fortress. There were some chests against the walls with valuables that didn't belong in the storage system, like old pictures. The red carpet floor matched the double bed, and soul fire lamps stood on the blackstone shelves next to the bed to provide some light.

Tango released Etho's hand to slip under the covers, motioning for Etho to do the same. He was only slightly hesitant, soon joining Tango. Tango wrapped his arms around Etho once more, and Etho snuggled close to Tango.

It felt good, being this close to Etho. They had both been so busy lately that they never got much quality time together, and moments, where they could just cuddle like this, were rare. A smile crossed Tango's lips as he glanced at Etho nestled in his arms, with his eyes closed. He was finally peaceful, cute even. Tango admired everything about him. He got the sudden urge to kiss Etho, but eyeing the mask, he wasn't sure if he wanted to bother Etho about it. He settled for a kiss on the forehead instead. To his surprise, Etho's eyes fluttered open, and he pulled his mask off. His hand rested on Tango's cheek, and Tango wasted no time in connecting their lips.

They lingered like that for a long moment before breaking apart. Etho's soft smile only caused Tango to fall for him more, if that was even possible at this point.

"I love you, Etho," Tango smiled.

"I love you too," Etho murmured, lightly nuzzling Tango's neck.

They both soon fell asleep, arms wrapped around each other as they cuddled. Both slept well for once, comforted by the other's closeness.

[darkeninganon]

(So, this storyline now has a name; it is the Ender Family AU! Dream’s design was based off @winifreyd and their White Enderman Dream! They are awesome and do amazing artwork, and this story would probably not exist if they did not  share their art! Warning for gore, blood, very heavy torture, passing out (as a fear/pain response), forced drugging/drinking (Potions are canonically drugs/alcohol), unwanted contact (Dream doesn’t like people touching his fur), and (there is no nice way of saying this) flaying. If you spot something else, message me and I will add it and apologize profusely. The beginning is deceptively sweet btw, just as another small warning.)

Ranboo looked between Tommy and Tubbo. His face was burning, but only one side showed a tinge of color.

"You mean you really don't remember staring down Quackity?" Tommy found it hard to believe, and was currently the main person opposing such an excuse.

"Really, I don't! You know how much I hate eye contact."

"He's got a point..."

Michael oinked in agreement. The trio were currently in the zombie piglin's room, Ranboo holding the child as the little monster drew something. Tubbo was kneeling next to the table, head partially resting on said table. Tommy was the only one standing, arms crossed, glaring at Ranboo.

Ranboo sighed, shaking his head. "Even if you don't believe me, it is the truth."

"Oh, I believe you, I just want to know why this is the first time we are hearing about it!" Tommy hissed, throwing his hands up. "I mean, if you hide that, what else are you hiding?!"

"Oh come on Tommy! Ranboo wouldn't-"

"Quite a bit because I would rather NOT be the reason someone kills Tubbo or Michael." Tubbo snapped his head towards Ranboo, horror plastered on his face.

"WHAT?!"

Michael snorted, holding up his picture. It depicted Ranboo holding a red square, and speaking in scribbles. Ranboo groaned as Michael proudly displayed his picture. The baby zombie piglin still had yet to learn to speak, but his writing skills were far beyond where most thought he should be at.

Tubbo stared at the picture, clearly concerned. "Michael, sweetie, have you seen daddy act weird?" Michael nodded, borderline enthusiastically. The little zombie pigling then grabbed a sheet of paper, scribbling most of it in red crayon before writing three large letters on it, and handing it to Ranboo.

Tommy and Tubbo stared.

"So, I guess I blew something up." Ranboo stated, staring at the crudely drawn TNT. He looked back to Tubbo and Tommy; "I think it's about time to tear down the walls of your old house."

"Damnit Ranboo!"

"I'm sorry?!"

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Dream stared, listening to the murmur of Quackity and Sam talking outside the wall of lava. It is a new day, Quackity is back. Dream could only wonder what Quackity was going to do today. Maybe he'll take my teeth, that would make sense. Or perhaps my other eye. Yeah, that sounds like something they could justify doing. Dream sat up as the lava fell away, Sam and Quackity standing at attention. Quackity was decked out in netherite armor. Enchanted netherite armor. Dream's ears fell back as a low growl fell from his chest.

Quackity made his way across the pit of lava, standing across from Dream with nothing in his hands but a potion and a pair of shears. Once the lava covered the opening again, Sam came through, glaring at Dream.

"Huh, what's the special occasion?" Dream smirked, tilting his head. Of course Sam; dear, dear Warden Sam; would want to help Quackity. "Don't tell me I actually scared you two." The prisoner chuckled, glancing between the two.

Quackity held out the potion; it looked like mud mixed with glitter. "Drink this."

"Excuse me?"

"Dream, do as Quackity says. I really don't want to have to force you." Sam stated, monotone. Dream stared at the warden, incredulous.

"No! I'm not drinking anything that crazy moron brings in here!" Sam sighed, striding over to Dream. "Get the hell away from me!" Sam went behind Dream, locking the prisoner's arms in an uncomfortable hold. Dream began yelling, kicking his legs out as Quackity approached. Quackity took Dream's jaw into a tight hold, digging his nails right into the joint and forcing Dream's mouth open. Once that was done, Quackity tore the cork from the bottle, shoving it into Dream's mouth.

Dream gagged, coughing and thrashing in an effort to get the bottle out of his mouth and not swallow the bitter liquid. Eventually, the potion's effects won out over Dream's own desires, his body going limp and his struggles ceasing.

Dream's eye darted around the cell. He wanted to move, wanted to cry out, wanted to not be sitting still. No matter how much he tried though, his body just sat there, even as Quackity removed the bottle and let go of his jaw.

"Hell yeah!" Quackity cheered, throwing the now empty bottle into the lava. "I told you it would work!"

Sam let go, gently resting Dream's head on his lap. "Yeah. You're sure he can't feel anything?" The warden sounded worried as he placed Dream's tongue back in his mouth and closed his jaw.

Quackity chuckled, "Yeah, I'm sure." He dragged his hand through Dream's fur, drawing lines at seemingly random points.

He's lying. Dream wanted to scream, Quackity's hands were cold and he hated as the "visitor" ran against the grain, causing the fur to stand up on end. Sam, he's lying! Please! But he couldn't say anything.

Sam, for his part, was staring at Dream sadly, carefully petting the prisoner as if he didn't co-sign this. He jumped as a hand snatched his wrist, holding it still. Sam looked to Quackity, who was still smiling.

"Seeing as how Dream isn't going to feel it, why don't you feel how soft he is!"

Sam looked at the prisoner, resting helplessly in his lap. Even though Dream's body couldn't move, his eyes were glaring at Sam. Still....

Curiosity won over the Warden as he took off his glove. Even with Dream unable to move, Sam was hesitant to touch the fur. When Quackity had entered the prison, that was all he talked about. It was just fur, what made it so special? What it because it was from Dream, and the prisoner never let anyone touch it?

Quackity groaned, snapping Sam from his thoughts. Without warning, the visitor grabbed Sam's hand and buried it in the mane around Dream's head. Sam could only stare. It was... So freakishly soft.

"Right!?" Sam glanced at Quackity, who was smiling like the cat that got the canary. "Seriously though, seeing as how he's going to be trapped in here for eternity, he really doesn't need this fur. He'll just overheat!"

No, I won't! Sam, please stop this! Tears fell from Dream's eyes, his mind racing. Taking his fur was the one thing he never expected.

Sam nodded, resuming petting Dream. "Just... be as quick as possible."

Quackity nodded as Dream's eyes darted to the man with the shears. "Let's see... Let's start here then!" Quackity stated, opening the shears and pulling Dream's skin right at his hip. Dream watched in horror as Quackity carefully cut a thin layer of skin and fur from his body, pulling and cutting just enough to make a starting point for him to continue. "Man, this is going to take a long while. Sam, would you mind grabbing a few more potions, just to be sure?"

Sam nodded, carefully setting Dream's head down on the obsidian floor, giving the prisoner one last pet before drinking a potion and diving into the lava.

As soon as Sam was gone, Quackity looked at Dream, and slid his hand between the skin he had just cut free, and the lower levels of skin and muscle. Dream tensed, the salt from Quackity's hand burning the fresh wound. "Man, this must really suck for you." The visitor laughed, a cruel smirk coming across his face as he wiggled his fingers in the wound. Dream gave a weak whimper, tear pouring from his eyes as the wound became wider and burned more. "Do you have any idea how hard is was to get the potion just right? Make sure you can't move, can't talk, but also heal you and make sure you can feel it? It was hard, man." Quackity finally removed his hand from the wound, marveling at the lack of blood. "This is probably what Tommy felt like. I have no idea what the afterlife is like, but maybe one day, I'll ask him."

Quackity straightened up as Sam came back, carrying a bag filled to the brim with the potions Quackity had made. The visitor smiled, turning back to Dream and resuming his work. Dream watched, heart racing as he finally saw what his fur and skin hid. Thin muscle hung from bones that showed painfully through in some places. It only took about two minutes for it to look like Dream was wearing a furry shirt or hoodie; a quiet whimper bubbling up from his chest as the first “hem” was finally completed.

Sam snatched a potion from the bag, opening Dream’s mouth and doing his best to make sure the prisoner didn’t drown on the vile liquid. Quackity gave Sam a weird look, getting ready to cut open Dream’s front.

“Really? He has another hour or so on the first potion.” Quackity muttered, pulling the skin up with his fingers, smirking as the muscles underneath twitched in pain.

Sam cast an unseen glance at Quackity, removing the empty bottle and throwing it into the lava. “He must have some form of tolerance, even after all this time. The numbing factor wore off I think.” Sam sounded distant, did Sam even believe his own words? Surely he knew.

“Well then let him deal with it. It’s not our fault he’s weird.” Quackity retaliated, making one final cut right at Dream’s collarbone, stopping as he noticed Sam flinch. “Hey, I’m sure Tommy felt way more pain than whatever little pin pricks this monster is feeling. Need I remind you-”

“No!” Sam winced, “No, I don’t need to be reminded.” He repeated, softer. Through the thick lenses of the mask, Dream could see Sam’s eyes darting between the prisoner and Quackity. Sam went back to petting Dream, unaware he had stopped for so long.

Quackity shrugged, cutting a gracefully curved line around Dream’s collarbones, stopping about halfway on either side. He grabbed Dream’s arms, inspecting both before dropping one to the ground, and making a quick slash around the whole wrist.

Blood poured from the fresh wound, diminishing to a trickle as Sam’s hand wrapped tightly around the small wrist. “Quackity! What the hell?!”

“Wow, language Sam.”

“Screw the language! What the heck were you thinking?! Get the bandages out of the bag now!” Sam glared at the visitor. Removing Dream’s fur was one thing, but getting so close to such areas… Sam would not stand for it.

“Will you relax? Look, it’s already closed!” Quackity pried Sam’s hand away, revealing a thin, bare scar circling Dream’s wrist. “Nothing to get pissy about.” He huffed, grabbing the prisoner’s other hand and doing the same. Sam was quick to cover the wound again, glaring hatefully at Quackity. “Alright. I need you to turn him onto his stomach so I can finish up the neck. I was not going to risk cutting your legs.”

“Quackity…”

“What? Don’t tell me you actually feel bad for this piece of trash.”

Sam looked between the visitor and prisoner. Dream looked terrified. Sam held out his hand. “I’ll take care of it.” Quackity stared at Sam, hesitantly handing him the shears. Quackity watched as the Warden made a shallow cut along the back of the prisoner’s neck, breathing heavily and muttering. Sam practically threw the shears back to Quackity, petting Dream as soon as they left his hands. “There, done.”

Quackity nodded, looking down at the paralyzed prisoner. He struggled to pry Dream’s skin open, humming and inspecting where it connected. Quackity took out a netherite knife, sliding it under the skin and between the muscle.

Dream watched, muscles burning and twitching. A ringing filled his ears, his heart racing, his lungs tight. He couldn’t breathe, and he felt way too hot… no, he was cold… Well, his body was cold, his arms freezing, but his face felt like it was right next to the lava. Sam… Sam something’s wrong… SAM! Sam please! SAM! Dream was suddenly in a void, screaming and wailing filling his head. He blinked, back in the cell. Quackity was further along in removing his skin. He could see his ribs laying right underneath the smooth muscle, his vision flitting to Sam, distress hidden by dark lenses. Sam’s head snapped to look at Quackity, muffled words demanding something. Dream’s mouth was pried open, another bottle shoved down his throat.

Black consumed him again. Back to the cell. Something hard and soft was in his mouth. Sam was holding his head, forcing him to look at the warden. Sam kept calling his name. Black again. Back to Sam. Black again. Sam. Black. Sam. Black. Sam. Black. Cloth?

Dream could feel his mouth was open; he could feel something wrapped around his body, arms, even his legs. Everything hurt. His eyes were wet, not from the cloth.

“S….Sam…?” His voice sounded too quiet. A hands was suddenly placed on his head; a gloveless, unarmored, calloused hand.

“It’s…”

“Sam… I’m sorry… I’m really, really sorry…”

Sam sat there, staring at Dream. Dream’s whole body was covered in tightly bound gauze. He looked almost like a mummy rather than… whatever he was. The only parts of him that still had fur were his head, hands, and knees. Sam had to fight with Quackity over leaving the fur on his knees. Sam sighed, closing his eyes as he took a breath, one hand resting on Dream’s chest while the other continued to pet him. “I know you are. I know.” Sam opened his eyes, staring at the creature laying on the floor before him, “It’s not me you have to apologize to though.”

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Quackity held up the pure white pelt. He had just finished cleaning it.

“Damn.” Quackity turned, smiling wildly at Schlatt. “Where the fuck did you get a coat like that?” The goat-man ghost lit up a cigarette, reaching out and touching the fur. “Again I say this: Damn.”

Quackity laughed, “I got it from my dear friend in prison.” Schlatt paused in his appraisal of the fur, staring at Quackity as if the still living man had grown another head. “Not like he needed it with how hot that place is. Besides,” Quackity pulled the fur away, brushing the soft hairs against his face. He froze, jolting to look at Schlatt, “Did you know his fur was this soft?”

The ghost stared, Quackity had a look to him that made Schlatt happy he was already dead. “No…” He spoke softly, lowering the cigarette he had. “I had no clue.” Schlatt watched as Quackity skipped way, the beautiful white pelt held close. Schlatt shook his head. Not for the first time in his life was he thankful that Quackity was on his side.

[lesbian-peanut-writer]

Unexpected

Finally!!! The first of the day 31 fics is finally finished. I’m terribly sorry that I’ve taken this long to get the story finished but it is finally here! this one was requested by @obsidian003 who was more than helpful when I got stuck and failed to find a way to move on with the story. They request Aizawa in the Zombie AU and Omegaverse, with the prompt  “Well looks like my cat found a kitten.” I hope you enjoy what I came up with and that the ending isn’t a disappointment. I owe you a part 2 for this one and I will get to it as soon as I can.

~Lesbian Peanut

Word Count: 2186

There was nothing worse than the world coming to its inevitable end, unless of course Zombies count. Do those suckers actually count? Yeah, they count! Zombies had never been a favourite of yours, movies and books that were centred around them had always left your nerves on edge, leaving you with a lingering sense of dread. The day the Zombie apocalypse rolled into town though, it didn’t exactly go the way you had always been expecting it to go down. Sure, people went into a dead panic and the shops started to get looted for anything that wasn’t locked down by desperate people but you didn’t actually panic like you had always thought you would. You had taken the whole thing within your stride, had just let it be but you had always been a more relaxed Omega than was normal and that was saying something. It only took a week minimum for the real terror of the whole situation to sink in, Alphas who had turned to Zombies.

You quickly came to prefer the movies or books where the only thing Zombies were ever known or interested in going after were the brains of other unsuspecting people and didn’t get a sickening sense of pride when it came time to hunt their prey. Alphas turning into Zombies appeared to create some form of strange chemical imbalance and primal awakening in them, changing them into these violent hunting machines that were driven by their instincts; creatures that couldn’t be reasoned with not even by an Omega. You had always thought that Alphas had been the ones who overpowered all the others and the apocalypse had only served to strengthen your reasons behind your beliefs. These primal Alphas spread terror faster than a wild fire could burn and caused far more destruction than any of the other Zombies around.

It turned out the Zombies weren’t the only problem people had to worry about, the living proved to be a rather large issue for people as well. While towns were being brought to their knees and turned to ghost towns by ravenous Zombies, refugee camps for survivors were being attacked by those who were still living which proved to be a pain in the arse. You had taken it upon yourself to travel from camp to camp, attempting to find one which was secluded enough from all the others and hoped that it wouldn’t be found by those who would seek to destroy the facility. It was because of this exact reason that you had recently taken to the road, rather than being tucked away in a well-known refuge and run the risk of being found by marauders. You weren’t exactly alone for your entire journey though; you had stumbled across some company while out and about.

“Hey, where do you think you’re running off to kitty?” You complained as you jumped up off the rock you were perched atop and stumbled along after the small feline as it gracefully walked away from you.

Your four-legged companion was nothing more than an ordinary run of the mill cat who just so happened to cross your path while out on the road. At first you had thought it was an abandoned or stray cat but the more time you got to spend with it, you started to think that wasn’t the case. The cat was beautiful, its grey coat with that distinct white patch across its chest seemed to be well groomed. It wasn’t until your third day with it when the small creature approached you and allowed you to pick it up, that you realised there was a small silver bell around its neck. The tiny bell had a soothing sound but one that wasn’t too loud and it blended perfectly with that cat’s fur.

“Hey, don’t leave…” You whined as you followed after the cat, your hands twisting into the hem of your shirt as you fought back the foreboding feelings of abandonment and loneliness once more.

The cat turned its head back at you, its tail swishing back and forth as it let out a soft mewl before disappearing through some bushes; it was as though the cat had been telling you to follow after it until it stopped. You didn’t bother to think the situation through for a second before pushing through the bushes and stumbling into the clearing. Your body instantly froze up on instinct, you hated the thought of being exposed to such a large area and yet you couldn’t help but follow after the cat.

The clearing before you held a vastity to it, the likes of which you hadn’t come across so far and that was enough to have your skin crawling. You couldn’t really complain though, the sight that greeted you was pleasing to the eye and there was a calmness in the air that almost had a sense of security slipping over you. The clearing was sparse, wild flowers scattered throughout the low grass and seeming to dance with the gentle breeze. You couldn’t help but to walk out into the clearing, taking in the beauty of the scene despite knowing the risk of being so exposed. There stood a tree further into the clearing, a singular tree which stood with such strength that you didn’t think anything would ever be able to uproot it. Your eyes flickered over the tree, taking in the way the bark of its trunk was held fast and the way the leaves swayed back and forth in the wind.

The cat meowed as it brushed against your leg, causing you to jump out of your skin as your heart rate rocketed out of control. You glanced down at the small feline and watched as it trotted away towards the tree, a new found spring in its step the closer it drew. You stumbled forwards after it, silent as you approached the tree and your eyes fell upon the man lying beneath. He looked rugged and worn, the bags beneath his eyes a tell-tale sign that this man hadn’t been given the chance to get proper sleep in a while. You hesitated as you approached him, your hands trembling as you took in his appearance; unsure as to whether you should be approaching this stranger.

His hair swirled and was lifted by the breeze, giving you a better view of his face while erasing any doubt you had. You shuffled closer to the stranger, your eyes lingering on the nasty scar that was etched into his cheek just below his right eye. You lifted your left hand cautiously, stretching it towards his face as you dared to invade this stranger’s personal space. His thick black hair was surprisingly soft to your touch, your fingers slipping up into his hair with ease before you brushed it back behind his ear. The moment your fingers brushed against his ear; the man’s hand shot up to clasp your small wrist tight within his grasp.

The snarl that left his lips as he moved fluently and toppled you backwards, had a violent shudder shooting down your spine. An involuntary yelp left your body as your back was slammed against the ground and your body was swiftly pinned beneath this man. You stared up into onyx eyes, their depth reflecting back to you the fear that was written across your face and you watched as a semblance of realisation seemed to flicker through this man’s eyes. He sat there staring down into your eyes, some of his hair cascading over his shoulders to curtain his face while the rest remained secured atop his head in a messy bun. Not a word left him as he watched you closely, his grip on your arms painfully tight as he restrained you and his legs heavy atop your own. It wasn’t until the cat came along and sat atop your chest, reaching up with a paw to swat at the man’s face, that he released you to sit back away from you.

You sat up slowly, rubbing at your wrists as you shot the man a pitiful attempt of a glare and pulled your legs in under yourself. You hadn’t noticed it before but there was a heavy scent of coffee and cinnamon hanging in the air, a scent that now clung to your body. The scent grew stronger as you shifted your head down to sniff at yourself and you regretted doing so as you picked up a distinguishing feature to his scent.

“It would seem as though my cat has brought me a Kitten.”

God, his voice was like velvet and there was a depth to it that you didn’t think had been possible in a person. However, you didn’t miss the underlying tone that his voice carried and it had shivers passing throughout your body. This man, the one sitting so dangerously close to you, was an Alpha! You watched as your four-legged companion climbed up into his lap and his fingers without missing a beat, dropped down to pass over the smooth coat of the creature. Turns out you hadn’t been wrong about the cat after all, it did indeed have someone to care for it and you just so happened to have run into the man.

“I apologise if I startle you just now.” He murmured softly as his fingers shifted to behind the cat’s ears and scratched gently.

“If?” You queried as you raised an eyebrow in disbelief, your hand still rubbing at your aching wrist.

He chuckled as he flicked his eyes up to look over at you, a crooked smile gracing his features and sending heat rushing through your cheeks. “Right, I apologise for startling you just now.” He corrected before his eyebrows drew together in concentration. “Though, I am curious… Did no one ever teach you not to startle an Alpha while they’re sleeping?”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on running into an Alpha all the way out here.” You admitted sheepishly before sighing heavily. “Why are you out here? I mean, there’s nothing out this way, right?”

There was silence between the two of you for a moment, as though the man was weighing up his options for answering your questions. “Not exactly. There’s nothing out here if you don’t know about it, but for those who know; there is something out here.”

Your eyes widened as you undoubtedly understood what he was talking about. “You mean, there’s…”

He nodded and put a finger up to his lips quickly, hushing you before you could give too much away. “Yes, but few people know about it; those that do know better than to tell people about it.”

“Does that mean you shouldn’t have just told me about it?” You asked quickly, scared about what it would mean if this was the case.

“Probably… I get the feeling you’re not going to be a problem though, Little Kitten.” He quipped as he smirked over at you before looking down at the cat curled up in his lap. “Carlos doesn’t just let anyone follow him back all this way, he brought you to me for a reason. So, why are you all the way out here where there is nothing?”

“Looking for a safer place to go. All the known refuges keep getting hit and taken over by marauders, leaving the people living there with nothing to call their own. It won’t be long before there are no safe havens for the living.” You whispered tenderly, your eyes casting down as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“Then you can consider yourself having found one. Come, I’ll take you back to the compound where you’ll be safe.” You shot your eyes up as he stood to his full height, tucking the cat away into the scarf that was wrapped multiple times around his neck. He stood before you, his hand outstretched towards you as he awaited your response. You reached out tentatively, placing your shaking hand within his own and allowing him to hoist you up off the ground. “Would seem as though you could use a good feed, we’ll see to it that you get a proper meal when we get back.”

You followed after him slowly, your hand held securely in his as he pulled you along. It was hard to believe this was all real, if it hadn’t been for the warmth radiating from his hand into your own; you probably wouldn’t have. You squeezed his hand tight, you had so many questions you wanted to ask him but you knew better than to make noise while travelling. This was it; you’d no longer be alone and you wouldn’t have to travel around anymore.

“I’m Shota Aizawa, by the way.” His voice was soft as it carried back to you, his head never once leaving the path he seemed to be able to find while your eyes failed to do so.

“(Name).” You whispered back as you tightened your hand further around his and a soft smile spread over your lips; tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Thank you, Shota.”

[laylacooke]

Double Headed Cockasaurces Australian Nymph 2000 || Cordy & Layla

timing: Mid August parties: Cordy [to book an appearance message @kadavernagh] & @laylacooke summary: Layla wants to do something nice for Frankie, but it ends up backfiring big time. warning: Don’t read this at work. :-D

Okay, so Pandora’s Boxxx was probably the last place Layla needed to be. But Frankie would be home soon, or so she thought, and she wanted to surprise her with something fun. The question of what plagued her mind as she wandered up and down the aisles slowly. Seeing everything from toys to dvds, the teenager could feel her cheeks turning redder and redder. Were there some regrets going in? Yes, but she was already there, and she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. No. She was determined. She was an adult. She could do this. It would be a nice treat for Frankie, to show her how much she loved her after everything that had happened within the past couple of months. The ginger haired girl just had to come up with an idea first.

Ugh, when would Annabel get back? Cordy leaned back against the window, kicking her legs up next to the register among the various enchanted sex toys and packets of belly button stickers. She puffed a breath of air out, blowing her long hair away from her face. This wasn’t a bad gig, but it was a slow day, and her fingers were practically sparking with magic that wanted to be used. She heard the bell ring and immediately lowered her legs and leaned forward. Aww, a little redhead. She seemed young. Lost, mayhaps. “Hey there, red! Mime E. Stripes is next door, if you’re looking for a ball pit instead of a ball gag. What can I do ya for? You have a name, cherry? How about fangs, fur, or wings?” Of course, Annabel was still gone. Her aura reading would really come in handy right about now.

The voice from behind the counter caught her attention causing Layla’s cheeks to turn as red as they could get. Of course, the comment about her age didn’t make her feel any better either. She had almost considered ignoring the woman, but she knew that would be rude, “It’s Layla. I was looking for something to surprise my girlfriend with.” She completely ignored the last question. She had made a bad habit of giving out too much information online, so the fact that someone was openly asking her if she was supernatural made her hesitant to respond. With her eyes staying away from the area the woman was in, the redhead continued to peruse the aisle she was in slowly. 

Cordy’s mouth ticked up at Layla’s obvious desire to look anywhere but behind the counter. My, she was a bashful one. “What’s wrong? First time in a sex shop?” Cordy called out. With a flick of her finger through the air, she unlatched the gate and walked out from behind the counter, intent on following the girl around. “What’s your gee-eff, then? Human? Oh, come on. You can’t ignore me forever. How else are you gonna pay for your flesh-flavored dental dams?” Cordy sidled over to Layla, smiling. “Lucky for you and your beau, you’re the only customer here right now, which means you have my full attention. So--” She looked down, noting what Layla was wearing. “Are those jorts? Are you that Layla?”

This was like a nightmare. What made her think it was even a good idea to visit a sex shop was beyond her. Her pale skin couldn’t get any redder, but damn was it trying. Is she- Is she coming over- When Layla heard the woman’s voice behind her, she nearly died. And what was worse was how she was grating on the teenager’s nerves. Finally stopping at the mention of her jorts, the redhead turned around, “First, I don’t know you…” She glanced down at the name tag, “Cordy.” What the hell kind of name was Cordy? “Second, I don’t think it’s any of your business what me or my girlfriend are. And lastly…” She crossed her arms and straightened herself up, “These are jorts, and if you’re referring to Jorts 101, I am, indeed, that Layla. Why? You gotta problem with that?”

Cordy hrmphed at the way Layla said her name. So touchy. It was just an honest question. How’d Annabel do this so seamlessly all the time? Customers never seemed to mind when she accosted them with personal questions. “People don’t come to the Boxxx unless their needs are… unique. Wouldn’t want you to bite your girlfriend’s head off and lay eggs inside of her neck, or whatever it is you do. But hey, maybe she’s into that. Is she a zombie? They often have death wishes.” Cordy grinned at Layla and followed her past the lingerie. She always hated those leprechaun-print thongs. Why would anyone wanna wear one of those things? “I knew it! You’re the jorts Layla. Yeah, yeah, I read your presentation, and you missed out on including some key jorts in there.” Cordy squeezed her way between Layla and the aisle’s exit. She pouted as she tried to measure Layla up again. “Are you some kinda jorts demon?”

Bite Frankie’s head off and what now? “What? Ew. Gross. And no. She’s not a zombie.” Layla moved forward trying to get away from Cordy. Pandora’s Boxxx had turned more into Pandora’s Chamber of Being Held Hostage All While Being Questioned About Her Sex Motives and... Jorts. “Key jorts? Seriously? I covered a majority of body types. What were you looking for? A section on Assless Jorts?” She continued to move towards the end of the aisle, until she noticed Cordy was blocking her. Letting out a low growl instinctually, she realized she had probably just given up what she was, but she wasn’t playing now, “No. Those don’t even exist.” Or did they? Layla couldn’t be quite sure with all the new creatures she was discovering in town; like the giant clam that almost tried to eat her or the squirrels that took Ulf’s fingertip.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” Cordy asked with a roll of her eyes. “You aren’t spilling any details. It’s not like I’m asking anything personal.” Zombie, shmombie. Some people just got so uppity. “I’m just trying to do my job, cherry, and you’re not making it easy. But that’s okay, I like a challenge.” Though it sure was helpful when Annabel could just drop the answer on her lap the second someone walked in. Cordy wiggled her fingers, which were tingling with magic and energy. She had a couple tricks up her bell sleeves, too. “Assless jorts would’ve been nice, yeah. You have to cover all of your bases, except the ass. You’re also missing the pinstriped jorts, which are an emerging trend. Can’t believe you neglected them.” Cordy gave her head a small, somber shake. The growl snapped her attention back up. “Oh!” She squeaked. “You a werewolf? Or something a little less boring?”

“I didn’t exactly come in here to spill details. Not those details anyways, and can you move? You do realize it’s super rude to block a customer in an aisle with...what are those…” Layla’s gaze shifted from Cordy to what was sitting on a shelf to the left of her. Eyes growing wider, she could feel her cheeks growing red, “Is that...is that a two headed penis?” Her voice dropped a few octaves. What. The. Actual. Fuck? “Okay, nope. I came in here for something to surprise my girlfriend. Not to see the rare double headed cockasaurces of doom. Nope. Nooooope. Fuck this place.” She turned back to Cordy, and instead of asking her to move, pushed the woman out of the way with more force than she had anticipated. Damn werewolf strength. She had made a huge mistake and just wanted to leave. The jorts argument was the last thing on her mind at this very moment.

“What, you’ve never seen one of those before? Some Australian nymphs requested--” Cordy was cut off by Layla’s continued noping. Man, she really needed to chill for a second. The Boxxx wasn’t the place to be such a wet blanket. Cordy could practically feel Layla’s anger and frustration boiling toward the surface, and she realized too late that she was in its direct path. Layla gave her a violent push, and Cordy fell toward the floor, only catching herself at the last second by focusing the magic that’d been pulsing between her fingers. She propelled herself upward enough to catch her balance, her magic crackling now. “Did you just shove me?” She yelled, indignant. “I was just trying to lend a hand to you and your girl, but fine, if you’re gonna be so catty.” Now, there was an idea. Cordy smirked at the thought. It wouldn’t be easy, and it’d been a while since she’d pulled off something so hilarious, but sometimes people just needed a good ol’ hex to get their head on straight.

Cordy reached within herself, focusing on the annoyance balled in her gut, ma’s voice loud in her ears. Use your words. Ma had always worked with incantations when she hexed and cursed people, but Cordy found that distracting, preferring mediation over all that chanting and waxing poetic. She closed her eyes, picturing that Australian nymph dildo and exactly what she wanted with clarity. She focused on her annoyance, her rage, the satisfaction at revenge exacted. The magic surged out of her, flowing into the dildo like river rapids, and it flew off the shelf, smacking right into Layla’s snarling face.

Layla knew that when she saw the woman catch herself, with what could only be magic, she was fucked. Her eyes grew wide as she slowly started stepping backwards looking for an escape route, “Look, I didn’t mean for that to happen, okay? My anger...sometimes I can’t control myself. A-Are you okay?” The redhead continued to look around for something she could buy that would work as an apology. Nothing too expensive, like a nearby...Butt Plug With A Tail? Are Furries seriously a thing here? “Um, hey, you guys do realize that a good portion of the people living here already have tails, right?” Her laugh was uneasy and nervous. This woman was mad, and there was no telling what kind of power she held. Of course, before Layla could say anything else, she felt that power. The double headed cockasaurces Australian Nymph 2000, or whatever the fuck it was called, had smacked her square in the face with enough force to knock her to the floor.

Moaning, she slowly opened her eyes feeling a weird energy racing through her body. Her head was throbbing and as she rubbed her face, she felt a small amount of blood coming from her nose, “What did you do to me? Did you just break my nose with a flying dick?” She slowly sat upright feeling dizzy. Layla had never imagined in a million years, she’d be smacked in the face with a double headed penis, but here she was.

Climbing to her feet with the assistance of the shelf right next to her, Layla rubbed her head. She had already felt regret for the way she had acted, but also confusion from the whole situation, and without saying anything else to Cordy, found her way to the front door and left.

[dayinseoul]

~ When Worlds Collide ~

College au | y/n x Yoongi, y/n x Hoseok

PART FIFTY-TWO: The truth untold

// au list | prev, next//

> Here we are,, 3k words and finally up! I have yet to go through and edit/fix it up but for now it’s better to put it up imo, as changes soon made won’t be TOO drastic~ <

At college, you’re either an icon or unidentifiable. What happens when the it group (The Four Way) crosses paths with the dorky kids (Bulletproof Boys) on the other side of campus? Will the bachelorette learn that opposites do attract or will she realise what’s right in front of her eyes?

(Au will contain swearing, alcohol/drugs and sexual themes)

Just the feeling of emptiness remained after Yoongi’s final message. Blankly, you remained staring at your now black phone screen. That’s it, it’s done.

You dropped your phone onto your crossed lap before looking up and towards the mirror across from where you sat. Your eyes pierced into your own as you took in your disheveled appearance, emotions have been wild in the past few hours so to feel nothing now, is almost an eerie calm. The good part about Hobi leaving was finally not feeling so prisoned, not only physically but mentally. It’s almost as if he has decided how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking, but it all lands back on his “unconditional” and delusional romance. How do you tell the person you love, that you don’t love him? Especially when he last felt heartbroken, he disappeared completely… But now he’s gone, there’s no more distraction, no stimuli to keep you occupied. The only company now was the slow-moving thoughts dragging through your mind.

Reaching up, you tugged at the strings on the over-sized black hoodie you wore, Yoongi’s hoodie. You smirked sadly at the memory, he had given this to you on the New Years camping trip, something about it being out of fashion and totally not to do with how low the temperature got that night. You always loved that about him, the biggest tofu. Acts all tough but in secret, he truly was the sweetest bean to his loved ones. Maybe it wasn’t healthy to keep thinking of him… but maybe it stopped being possible to think of anything else after getting that message back. Shaking your head, you tore your vision from the pitiful figure in your reflection, towards the phone on your lap. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you inwardly cursed your naivety. Turns out “K.” was inevitably just code for shut up and not “I want you back too”.

“Why even respond though?” You grunted throwing your head back on the couch, squinting towards the ceiling above you. You wished you could be tough, like how everyone expects you to be, like how you’ve always portrayed yourself. But what good could it possibly do now? How pathetic. But that was never really you…  Just your façade that you had come to believe until… until Yoongi. He made you better, truly. Showed you the truth of who you are, and how to love it, like he does. Did. The noise of your abrupt quickening pulse rushed through your mind forcing your eyes shut. He did love me, you thought. This is my fault, if I was just honest… He would still be here. You clamped your eyes shut, holding in the bitter tears threatening to spill. Your mind fogged over at the events that caused this all to break down. The night Hoseok finally returned, he had come home to where Yoongi and you were awaiting him. In this very spot, Yoongi had you pressed to his chest as you were bubbling over with excitement; just like a child who was told they were receiving a gift. Yoongi had already spoken in disdain for Hoseok due to their, unfortunate fight, and yet he was still supportive of his return… just because it’s what you wanted. As he broke through the door, it was almost like he slammed into a wall at the sight before him, dragging you out of Yoongi’s arms into his own. After a long and lively greeting, things began to go astray. Hoseok spat with scowls towards Yoongi, retelling the past in a twisted fashion and shunning him for apparently using me to get back at me for what I had done. Yoongi’s face, you’d never seen him look so heartbroken. And when he turned his gaze towards you, all you could see was the mix of anger and betrayal in his eyes, as uncharacteristic tears streamed down his face. Then he was gone. He pushed past both you and Hoseok, leaving for good and slamming the door in his departure. That was the last moment you saw him in person. The last moment he loved you. A broken sob tore through your chest as your mind forced itself from the memory.

A sudden loud bang made you jump in surprise as you swung your head towards the direction it came. Through your hazy and tear-filled eyes, you eventually focused on the door that now was repeatedly being bashed on from the outside. Hoseok always had the habit of leaving his keys behind, but you swore he took them this time? Perhaps not… With a deep breath, you pushed yourself up and swiped at your wet face with the long sleeves that passed your hands. You made way towards the door, in a more zombie style fashion. Huffing lowly to yourself, you pushed your chin up to attempt a mask over your outburst and reluctantly pulled the door open, mumbling out loud.

“You really need to tape your keys to yo- “Your breath hitched as you looked up at the man before you… at Yoongi.

You stood in shock, staring aimlessly at him before taking a step backwards, grabbing onto the door to push it closed again.

“Don’t” his voice growled out as he pushed back onto the door stepping into your space.

“W-why? Wha- what do you…” your chest was heaving as your breath quickened, panic setting in your mind at the glassy eyed, seething ex-lover standing over you.

“What a joke. You don’t get to act like that!”

“Like what…?”

“Like I’m some fucking monster, like I’M the one who played YOU!”

“But- “

Yoongi stepped closer to you, pushing the door closed behind him as he continued to glare into your eyes.

“No,” he growled “I trusted you, I-I thought you were different. Fuck, I never even fucking imagined that it was YOU the whole time!”

“Yoon- “

“ALL of us went through hell, and it was because of your shitty friends. Then you used me for what? Another game? Play with my feelings, use me? Just so you and Hoseok can get a laugh from my despair? Hoseok, the one you were truly with this whole fucking time, right?” the clearly tipsy male slurred his grunts at you while pulling his fingers through his now dyed black hair.

You search his eyes aimlessly, they’re as beautiful and almost black as they always were but the remaining upset expressed in them pulled you from your admiration as you acknowledged the extent of his last words.

“Tell me,” you averted your eyes and slowly breathed out your words, “do you really believe that’s true?”

Yoongi stuttered over his words, pulling your attention again. “You’ve already surprised me once.”

Tears again began to roll down your cheeks as you exchanged stares, “W-what do you even know?” You sobbed out, “You know nothing! Just the bullshit that Hoseok spilled to force us apart!”

Yoongi’s mouth fell open as if to retort your statement but fell silent, instead swallowing back his pride and resuming his glare down.

“Just proves that you never really did ever trust me…” you backed away from him, your mind working in circles is only doing work to work you up more but it’s bubbling up now, what can you do?

“I- I di- shut the fuck up, CLEARLY I did trust you. Why the hell would I give a shit if I didn’t?”

“What really happened then?” Your quivering voice squeaked out as you squared up towards him, challenging him back with a hard stare, “last year? This year? What the fuck is it that I really did, huh?”

Yoongi tugged at the sleeves of his own black hoodie and ignoring your words, walked straight past you towards the lounge room. You craned your head back watching as he sat down before raising an eye brow at you before pointing at the seat opposite him. Obediently, you followed his silent command and sat on the ottoman timidly looking up at him.

“Go on” he roughly spat out, “Truth untold then… Trick me again.”

You huffed at him, before straightening up.

“Believe what you want, it doesn’t matter anymore, right?”

He began to speak lowly before you impatiently cut him off.

“Do you remember the day we really met? You had showed up at that party, the one at the frat house near the lake?”

“Of course I do… I always hated frat parties, you can smell the desperation from the street” he rolled his eyes, “I went with that group, one of your minion troupes. My “friends”.”

He ignored you as you shook your head in protest.

“What about it?”

“One of those guys introduced us… I-I never met anyone like you before.”

Yoongi gingerly bit his lip, watching you in earnest.

“I was really surprised when you agreed to drink and hang out with me… but I really was glad you did… I still am.”

A sharp intake of air broke your thought as you watched culprit look everywhere but at you. “Well. Ugh fuck it. When I arrived with them, I saw you and just...”

“Just what?”

“You. It was looking at the human adaption of Spring and Summer… Like you were the sun and if I even tried to get closer, I would burn,” he again shared eye contact, “and I would’ve happily burnt up right there. But when you looked back at me, you were somehow the biggest mystery. Cold and protected but eerily perfect. You were a graveyard and I no longer was afraid to die.”

The air in the room felt at a standstill. You were speechless.

“I met you and shit just fell into place, like my soul went oh there you are, I’ve been waiting for you… I felt honoured to get to spend those few hours with you,” Yoongi scoffed, crossing a leg over his other, “Then, of course, Hoseok did his rounds looking for you and off you went. Back to your keeper, leaving me with barely a word and your chat id scribbled onto my wrist.”

What could you even say? It’s true. After that night, you had your daily messages with Yoongi and when you’d see each other on campus, there was always a brief exchange of a wave or nod. But Hoseok, was always priority number one, he spoke a word and you’d follow suit (granted everyone did but doesn’t that doesn’t change anything). It was only at the weekly parties you attended that you would sneak away from him, almost like a rebellious teen sneaking out of your home, and at those parties you’d meet with the man in front of you now. Like clockwork, every Saturday night after one in the morning, you’d meet and spend the rest of the night talking and/or drinking together. The very last party, that this happened was the night he brought along Namjoon. A sight for sore eyes, in a place surrounded by drunks and horny young adults. Somehow, this college housed an intelligent and brightly beautiful man such as him and you felt blessed that Yoongi had respected you enough to introduce you to his best friend. Next thing you knew, Namjoon’s attention was pulled and he followed behind a set of broad shoulders over to the makeshift bar, leaving you and Yoongi to attend to your routine. For some reason, this night in particular, Hoseok was actively searching for you immediately and being kind of tipsy and very much crushing on Yoongi, you both made retreat and found yourselves on the roof. Something was very much in the air that night, Yoongi had opened up to you more than ever before. He spoke of why music was his passion and how his family despised him for the longest time for it. The day he first met Namjoon and that he was the balance and puzzle piece that he was needing for the longest time. His other two little brothers, who he had never mentioned before, and how they were charmingly childlike. That was the night you fell in love with Min Yoongi, and as his feline eyes peered into your own, you felt sincerely loved like you never had before. And as fortune would have it, that was the last time you saw him for some time.

Messages left unanswered, gone from campus, parties and meet ups unattended. Nobody knew of where he went, and only once was he mentioned again, something about pulling from the Arts Night seminar to apparently focus on his work more intimately. To say you felt heartbroken was an understatement. You didn’t have the slightest idea to what you had done wrong, or what had happened but god you wanted it fixed, you wanted him back and there was nothing you could do about it. Could you even file a missing person’s report from someone who wasn’t missing? Looking back on that month you didn’t know what had happened, nothing was out of the regular… except for one day, the week following that party you last met him. You were at HOTS that day, as it also substitutes as a hang out spot for people who runs with The Four Way. You were the only member there, but your company was not shallow, as you were surrounded by groups such as the IKON frat, Wanna one boys and Twice ladies (to name a few). Suddenly, in came the now notorious group that created the nickname Circle Jerk, carrying trays of coffees and drinks for everyone. You remember the leader catching your eye before striding towards you handing you over your favourite smoothie blend and crouching before where you sat on the bench. The other occupants of the seat dispersed as you quickly began a conversation with the male carrying a wicked smile before you. He disclosed to you about a group that had wronged him and his brothers, and familiarly ask for your permission to teach them a lesson. You saw nothing wrong with it. In fact, who the fuck did this group think they were? Messing with your extended family like they did, stealing their music and claiming it for their own. Pushing them around and treating them like workers. Not on your watch. The green light was given, and you offered everyone’s hands where needed and necessary.

A clearing of the throat pulled back your attention as your wide gaze snapped to Yoongi. You gaped at him wordlessly like a fish.

“It was my fault…”

“What?”

You cleared your throat and spoke louder, repeating your last words. As he just stared back at you emotionlessly.

“But let me explain, please” lowering your head, you pleaded to Yoongi. He may not ever take you back, but he deserves the truth at least. He leaned back into the seat giving you the go ahead.

“That group lied to me, okay? They twisted the story and made me believe you guys were doing to them, what they did to you. A-and asked me for permission to get revenge… I didn’t know the truth, I didn’t know it was you, I just wanted to protect who I thought was my family.” You paused expecting a reaction, instead you received a wordless nod to continue speaking.

“I swear I didn’t know. That group was actually the one who told Hoseok the story he went with. T-that’s why he said you were using me to get back at them for their vengeance. He believed them and tried to protect me from the truth that he knew.”

“And yet he never asked me if it was true” Yoongi shrugged and rolled his eyes dismissively.

“And yet you never asked if I really played you.” you watched as his shoulders lowered, as if your words were finally making everything make sense to him.

“… Say what you just told me was true. Why did you disappear after that night with Jimin, huh?” 

Breathing a low sigh, you pushed your seat closer towards Yoongi as you continued. Noticing him lean timidly in towards you.

“Because I realized who it was that they were targeting, and I knew it was lies, I trusted you… I was guilty, okay? I fucked up and you guys got tormented on my word. You don’t think I feel awful about that? I did what I could for you guys that night, then when I saw your interactions with Jimin, I knew you deserved better. A-and when I saw the way you looked at me, as you did before your absence, I couldn’t let you love me.”

“Who are you to dictate if I should love you?” Yoongi’s sudden yell shocked you both.

“Yoongi…?”

A broken groan left his throat, as he pushed his head onto his perched arms. “O-okay. Okay.” As his defenses and restraint against you dropped, you felt it was necessary to at least repent for the bad you did willingly, now that he’s listening and believing.

“I ignored you from then and I’m sorry, I truly am. I kept those fucks away from you and dismissed them completely. They’re trash. I never wanted you to hate me though-…”

“And that’s why you left that note outside my class.”

“Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love…”

He sadly smirked at the memory, lifting his head from where he was staring at your hands on your lap. “I’ll be honest, I really thought that Hoseok found out, and wanted you away from me.”

“That’s a bit much” you lowly giggled.

“Aish. Is it though?” he chuckled back rolling his head to the side.

The silence that suddenly fell wasn’t in the slightest uncomfortable. Both of you trading subtle glances towards each other while being wrapped in your own thoughts. To be honest, it was actually the most comfortable you’ve felt in some time now, just being by his side even it was silent.

“Did you mean it? About the love?”

“The note or now?” you blinked at him, “…both.”

Yoongi’s heavy sigh echoed throughout the room, “Is it stupid of me, that I believe it? That I knew, looking at you and being with you, I was always going to.”

“I think I may be too biased.”

The sobering man tousled his hair between his fingers, giving you grunt in response. He slowly stood up and you followed suit. His breath fanned over your features as you stood face to face.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you and talked to you, instead of being so paranoid.”

Your stunned and blushing expression encouraged a small grin to show on his face.

“I really didn’t believe you could purely want me back, to be honest. So, as ridiculous and forward as it may be. I’m done being the victim and running from the truth. If you want me in your life, let me know now.”

“Wait, what?” a wide smile showered in disbelief spread across your skin, “But… I mean. Isn’t that my line? Aren’t I supposed to beg you back?”

A brief laugh fell from his mouth as he searched your eyes, “You got me, I trust you. I think drinking finally got me to man the fuck up and have this conversation with you. The untold truth was coming out today, whether I liked it or not. Just so happens, that I like it… and I never stopped loving you. I just was stuck in my scared state, got triggered, I guess? So, now it’s up to you. What do you think?”

“I think… of no other person since I’ve begun thinking of you.”

Swiftly, you jumped into his arms and against your wishes, as he simultaneously pulled you pressed to him by your waist. You shoved your face into his neck and breathed in his long-lost scent, bringing back memories and feeling of pure love and joy. You felt the press of lips on your own neck, as he whispered through choppy, emotional words.

“I’m home, my angel.”

[livingmybestfakelife]

Title: Nothing Left To Loose

Summary: After you are killed by a rival gang family, Erik is left to pick up the pieces of everything else that seems to be falling apart.

"This is the second fucking club that they set on fire, this shit has to stop" his friend W’Kabi complains, Erik sighs and hangs his head, he didn't need this right now, he was already stressed to the max as it is, he was already dealing with the first club burning down and now their second one, the insurance company and fire department said it was faulty wiring but he knew for sure it was carefully staged to look like an accident, he knew it was professionally and carefully done because he used to do that himself back in the day before he ranked higher up, his specialty used to be arson, the men he used to work for paid him more money in a day than what his father made in a month, so he knew for sure that this was the work of some people who didn’t care for him or his brand, all he needed to do was figure out just who. He didn’t think it was anyone from the Presley clan since they already struck once, well not the ones who were left anyway, the least important ones, the important ones were either dead or locked up, and Erik didn’t even have to lift a finger to do it, the ones who issued the hit were sloppy with their work and was arrested, and the others were killed off, so if it wasn’t Erik then who? Your family of course, they were just as shady as Erik was, their empire built on arson, blackmail and organized crime, but in that sea of evil and dirty money was you, you were an angel, sweet, soft spoken and kept out of the family business, both the legal and illegal ones, it just wasn’t for you.

So when you and Erik met you weren’t too spooked by him since you were already used to the likes of him, you grew up around them, you weren’t afraid of him, he was always gentle with you, trying not to raise his voice while ranting about work, and if he slipped up and did he would apologize and kiss on your face, he hated seeing you uncomfortable, you weren’t a weak woman, you could most definitely hold your own if you were pushed hard enough, but that was a rare occurrence, you being in the family that you were in and being married to the man you were with no one wanted to cross you, it was suicide. You were the last pure thing that Erik had in his life and you were taken away from him in a brutal manner, he didn’t want to believe it when he had gotten the news that you were gunned down while leaving your favorite tea shop with your sister-in-law. Witnesses said that her screams and cries could be heard from blocks away, when they saw what was happening she was cradling your blood soaked body in her arms crying and screaming for someone to call 911, Erik had not only lost his wife but also his mind, he had to be held back from from wanting to throw punches at W’Kabi for saying that to him, thinking that it was a sick joke, when he calmed down a little and broke down crying W’Kabi hugged him tight while also crying himself, it was a nightmare.

“Erik man, what are we gonna do?” W’Kabi asks and Erik slams his fist on his desk “I don’t know W’Kabi, I don’t fucking know!” he gets up and paces back and forth, he didn’t need this right now, he had just buried you yesterday, he can still hear the loud cries of your mother asking God why he took you so soon, begging him to give you back, to take her instead, he tried to console her but she slapped him away “You did this, you’re the reason why she’s gone, you killed my baby, my little girl!” is what she yelled in his face while your father held her back but giving him a glare since he agreed as well. There was a knock at the door and Erik yelled “What?!”, the door opens to a nervous looking henchman “Sorry to bother you Mr. Stevens, but Mrs. YLN is here, she wants to speak to you” he sighs and hangs his head again, “Let her in” the man nods and opens the door wider, seconds later your mother walks in, dressed in all black but was still stylish, the only pop of color was her vintage grey fur coat, the click of the heels of her boots sent chills up her son-in-laws spine, Erik instructs W’Kabi to leave and once the room is left with just the two of them he motions for her to sit, she takes at seat but not at the one for the guests, she instead sits in his chair behind his desk, he’s confused but doesn’t ask any questions, he didn’t want to be anymore on her bad side. Once she takes her gloves off she gets right down to business “I heard about what happened to your clubs, shame, maybe this is a sign to launder your money somewhere else, might I suggest pawn shops?” she was toying with him now and he wasn’t in the mood for it, he was still grieving and didn’t need her doing this right now “YMN is there anything I can help you with? I’m very busy” your mother smirks and reaches into her purse, she pulls out a piece of paper that has a list of names on it and places it on his desk “These are the names of all of the people I want you kill, then when you do, I want you to destroy their properties, anything that makes them the most money I want it up in flames, literally or figuratively, that Van Clive works for a bank in New Jersey, I want you to frame him for embezzlement, I don’t care how you do it just get it done, don’t ask me why I want this done just do it, and don’t contact me until you’ve completed the task”, she puts her gloves back on and stands up, walking around his desk and in front of him “As you can see I’m a grieving mother, so maybe I’m not thinking straight, ordering hits on people isn’t in my department, I stick to the legal side of things, but those pencil dick bastards killed my only daughter and for what?, for being the angel that she was? All she ever did was stay in her lane and love people, and now she’s gone, and someone has to pay, so make them pay Erik” she then walks away, once again the click of her heals can be heard as she’s doing it, before opening the door to leave she looks at him one more time and says “She was pregnant, did you know that?” No he didn’t know, he gave her a heartbroken look “She had told me that morning, she was going to tell you that night, she wanted to surprise you, she was two weeks along” tears fell from his eyes and he looked away, he heard the door open and close, giving him the sign that she had left.

Erik yelled, screamed and cried for what felt like hours after your mother dropped that bomb on him, this was all too much, so much to were he prayed to just drop dead right then and there, you were pregnant with his first child, he had thought that you had a certain glow but somehow pregnancy never crossed his mind, he just thought it was you being your same stunning self, but the whole time you were carrying his baby. He stomped over to a portrait of you hanging on his wall and took it down, he had opened the safe that was behind it and looked at the wads of cash inside “W’Kabi!” he yells for his friend and he rushed into the room “What’s up?” he asks as he walks closer to him “How much you think is in here?” and W’Kabi looks at the money then says “I don’t know, maybe half a mill” Erik nods and goes to find some bags and hands them to him “Fill these with all of the money in that safe, use it for bribery and to pay the men who complete their tasks” “What tasks?” he asks him as Erik goes to his desk and picks up the list “To take out the people on this list, then I want their businesses destroyed, Van Clive, the banker, I want him framed for embezzlement, after they are all killed I want to make sure that their names and everything they worked for are ruined, you got that?” W’Kabi hesitated for a moment then nodded “Alright, I’m on it” Erik pats his back and goes to sit down, W’Kabi looks at him for a second then goes to fill the bags with the money all while thinking about what just happened, Erik is usually the one to handle this sort of business, he himself was just an informant and an accountant for one of his legal businesses, ordering people to do dirty work was out of his realm, but he didn’t protest or complain, his friend was still wounded at the lost of his wife which is what he had thought to be the cause of his sudden change, he needed time to himself to grieve, business was the last thing on his mind right now so he could understand that.

Never had he seen Erik so broken, not even when his mother and father died, you leaving this world without warning crushed his soul and left him a shell of a man the only thing that could get him out of this funk was you, but that wasn’t possible, so for now, until he gotten to the acceptance stage of grief, Erik would be a zombie and leave the responsibility of keeping his empire afloat to his most trusted partners. He looked over at a framed picture of you at his desk, you in a pretty floral dress and big white hat at your mothers garden party and for a second he smiled, you looked so beautiful and so full of life “Alright Erik, I’m heading out, anything else?” he shook his head “Nah, go ahead” W’Kabi nodded and quickly left the room to get the job done “They ain’t gonna get away with this baby, they can’t just take you from me and expect nothing, I’ll spend every dime to make sure I get payback, everything I posses, I have nothing left to loose if I don’t have you”.

[hey-hey-chan]

Zombie Apocalypse!Chan Pt.2

“Highly requested pt.2 of zombie apocalypse Chan!! Sorry for the hella long wait,, I wasn’t feeling lots of inspo NOR did I have the time to write :|

Please enjoy and sorry if I’m rusty and i never edit my writing, why do yall read my shit oml 

“Y/n! Can you pass me the bowl of potatoes please?” An older chef had asked me. I quickly glanced around and saw the bowl.

“Uh sure, wait, do you want me to peel them first?” 

“That would be awesome, dear!” I heard in reply. I quickly took out the peeler and started raking away. 

Ah, the normal hustle and bustle of the kitchen.

I hated every moment of it. I had gone through hard and arduous training to become a chef in the kitchen, but even though I was still lacking, they couldn’t turn away any type of help, even the bad kind.

I quickly peeled the potatoes, in record time and handed them to the lady, “here.” She gave a small smile in response, but had no time to give her thanks as there were hundreds of people to feed. 

“I still can’t believe that you’re in here.” I heard suddenly, making me jump back out of surprise. I shook my head and gave the boy a crooked smile.

“Yedam, I told you, I like working in the kitchen.” Ha, I could almost laugh at the lie. The boy knew it too.

“Oh yeah? Since when, you’ve always hated cooking and anything relating to anything of the female stereotype. Really y/n, what are you doing?” I shoved a banana in his hand and sighed.

“I’m helping the community, maybe you should try it instead of sitting on your ass all day while playing games.” I said this as a joke of course, but the boy still pouted.

“Hey! I’m only 12!” I smiled at his whiny voice while trying to wash some vegetables. 

“Yeah yeah now take your 12 year old butt and walk out of here, this is for chefs only,” I said while pulling a knife out to chop the veggies. As I thought the boy was going to leave, I instead heard a loud sigh, which made me want to sigh as well, “now what?” 

“I just thought you would fight to be, uh, you know, a fighter? You love-” I saw the other women in the kitchen start to give us curious glances when the word “fighter” was mentioned. I set down my knife and crossed my arms at my brother. 

“I’ve settled for this job, I don’t mind it too much anymore. I get breaks and I get served first, what a privilege.” That wasn’t a lie; I did get breaks and I did get served first, but honestly, I would be rather be working my ass off fighting and bleeding than stirring around pots. I wasn’t look down upon the female chefs, yet I knew this wasn’t where I was supposed to be. 

But I had to be here if I wanted Yedam and I to stay safe, and I would do anything for my younger brother. 

I heard a deep sigh once more before sneakers started to squeak, “ok fine, whatever you say. But I don’t believe you, you’re just caught in some kind of funk.” I scoffed at the boys words. 

“I’m in a funk.” I asked although it sounded more like an accusation. He nodded and gave me one of his childish grins.

“Yes a-”

Suddenly, loud sirens sounded across the cafeteria, making everyone drop what was in their hands to cover their ears.

“Y/n-” I quickly grabbed Yedam and pulled him close to me. “What is that?” He whispered in my ear. I shook my head, telling him I had no idea either and that he should shut it. 

Shrieks of girls in the kitchen echoed throughout the kitchen, making me cringe at the volume. If there were zombies, they would have heard this already. 

Sirens, what a rookie mistake. Let’s hope the walls are soundproof. Unless they’re already in the-

“Everyone! This is Chan, your leader. Please stay calm.” As soon as I heard that son of a bitch’s voice, I stomped out of the kitchen and threw down my apron. 

There stood Chan, one of the leaders of the camp. He had saved my life and let me and Yedam into the camp, yet he wouldn’t let me fight, so I obviously hated him. 

“What is the situation? Are your walls soundproof-” 

“Please, calm down. I will answer individual questions later since I am needed on the battlefield, but don’t worry. There is only a small group of zombies trying to enter, nothing we haven’t had before and certainly nothing we can’t handle.” The boy leaned back on one foot and smiled at the crowd, already melting their hearts. 

I almost shook my head in disbelief at how easily the worried people became calm in the face of this guy. This idiot.

I stared at his facial features closer and instead of the calm and collected boy I usually saw, I saw his features scrunched and tense, like he was panicked.

“That’s bullshit. You look scared as hell, don’t lie to them. We deserve to know.” I growled next to him. His eyes turned angry, unusual to his usual self. 

He took a step closer to me and my first instinct was to take one back as well, yet I couldn’t lose this battle. 

“Please don’t start any rumors, Miss Y/n. I am well aware of our conditions and me and my men are doing fine.” Oh wow I’ve never wanted to rip someone’s throat out so badly. 

“I know that look, it’s the look that faces death, I know it very well. But I know you won’t face it if I was there to fight, so let me-” He interrupted me by snapping and waving someone over.

“Yeah, um, someone please escort Y/n to her room, I will not have people trying to change my rules and scaring my people.” Before he finished his speech, I felt arms pull me back and I immediately pulled myself out of their grasp. “And please don’t be rough with her, I think she’s just nervous ‘cause this is her first siren.” 

Nervous my ass, the only thing that makes me nervous is that I’ve left my life in the hands of these pricks who think they know everything about the outside world.

A man with tattoos lining his arms grabbed my upper arm which made me flinch, “do NOT touch me, got it?!” I yelled. As I got angrier, so did they making me, which caused a vicious cycle of fighting. 

“Hey don’t hurt my sister!” Yedam yelled. I saw their arms grab for him too which suddenly zapped me into reality again. I kicked them back and puled Yedam behind me.

“Do. Not. Lay. A. Hand. On. My. Brother. Got it?” I bent low, almost as if I was ready to pounce. 

One of the men scoffed, crossing his arms, “as if a woman could out fight a man.” 

Right as I was about to slap that bitch across his silly face, Chan’s walkie talkie went off. 

“Come out- need you.” And that’s all I heard before I heard Chan say “copy that” and stomped away. 

The two men looked at me before walking away as well. 

“Behave yourself, I trust yourself not to do anything stupid if you love your brother so much. It’d be a shame if you two got kicked out,” he said. The two cackled at his joke which made me want to break his next even more. 

“Follow him.” I snapped my head around to my younger brother who seemed to be picking up a rebellious streak. 

“What?” 

“Follow him, you know you want to. This might be your big chance to show Chan and the other guys you can fight.” He spoke quietly and softly, making me unable to get mad at him. 

“Yedam, I can’t-”

“You can and you will. I know we might get kicked out if you try any funny business, but I’d rather leave in fear than have you live unhappily-” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.

“I’m not unhappy, I’m safe here with you. That’s all I need to be happy.” I spoke truthfully, yes, I didn’t like the kitchen, but Yedam was happy here, so than I was happy as well.

Suddenly I see Chan entering the cafeteria again, making me confused. 

“Secure the doors please.” His voice boomed. I heard doors clicking the women’s cries being heard. Something was seriously going on.

As Chan was about to walk away, I grabbed his arm, something I would never do. 

“Hey! You need more men.” He stopped in his tracks, stared at his arm. I awkwardly released it. “Sorry, but you need help. I see it. Your men aren’t as good as you, I know, I’ve seen them. Let me help.” Chan stared at me for a moment and shook his head.

“You don’t get it do you, you can’t-” I laughed hysterically and took a step closer to him.

“No, Chan. You don’t get it. You would rather let a bunch of people here get hurt because you have to much of your man ego to let a girl fight. But look around you Chan, you don’t have the privilege of people who would sacrifice their life to say shit like that.” I spat. We were dangerously close as I could feel his anxiety and anger rolling off of him in waves.

Before he could respond, I heard loud thumping noises, as if bodies were falling against the walls. I met eyes with Chan, both of ours wide and bug eyed. 

“Shit!” He yelled. A saw a group of zombies break through the barriers. 

“Around 30 zombies, highly skilled and trained, probably ex-military! All men here now!” 

I saw a zombie head towards me and Chan grab it and slice his head off. I scoffed, like I needed the protection. 

“Yedam, go hide behind the counters, NOW! Yell if you are in danger.” The boy followed my instructions well and scurried out of sight. 

I felt the world slow down as a zombie ran full force at me, he was a big one and I could see the anger in his eyes. 

“Y/N!” I heard being yelled, oh well, I guess I was unconsciously walking towards it. “STOP! You don’t even have a wea-”

The zombie came an inch between me and I grabbed it’s throat and crushed it with my bare hands. I couldn’t fight the smile that popped onto my face.

“WHAT THE FUCK? DID THAT GIRL JUST KILL THAT THING WITH HER BARE ASS HANDS!?” 

I smirked at the screams of the other fighters and even felt my heart swell with pride as Chan gaped at me. 

I kicked started into fight mode as more came running at me, I must’ve killed their leader. I let out a howl as they ran at me, feeling the adrenaline fill me like a drug.

“Here.” I felt a dagger being shoved into my hand. Chan gave me a small nod and I nodded back. 

I then swung my feet to hit the head of a zombie, bringing them down to I could cut their head off. Another pounced at me as I was sitting on top of another and I cut their head off midair. 

One after the other kept running at me, my pride swelled when I was covered in blood and sweat. I kicked the last one down with my full might and saw it’s head break as I stumped into it. 

“You’re just a little boy, can’t fight a strong woman like me, boo hoo.” I looked to my right and saw 4 zombies flanking Chan.

“Yes, killing the leader, just like you killed ours, how... fitting!” I spent no time listening to their stupid drama and pulled the knife away from Chan’s neck, no hesitation at all which made her gasp. I kicked her down and trusted Chan to take the back of me. 

“You bit-” She never got to finish this words before her head went limp against the ground. I turned to my right and finish the other that was standing in shock at the loss of a friend. 

“Thanks.” I heard a strangled voice say. I chuckled and shrugged. 

“Well, next time maybe you would want me to fight sooner, so you don’t go through so many near death experiences.” I joked, setting my knives down. Oh fighting always put me in a better mood. Yedam was right, I was never truly happy just doing nothing here. 

“Hey I’m sorry, ok? I don’t know what I was being such an asshole to you. I think if any other girl asked, I would’ve let them on the team.” At these words, I swiveled around and crossed my arms.

“Wow, why so cruel to me?” I wondered. I saw the boy shrug and wipe his knives off with a towel. 

“Hm, it’s kind of embarrassing,” he muttered while rubbing the back of his neck. Oh well, now I was curious. 

“Oh do tell.” I smirked. 

The boy shrugged, a blush forming on his face, “honestly, I think I was intimidated by you. You were so much like a leader it was scary, I think I thought that if you joined the fighters, you would overpower me.” I stood in silence for a moment, letting his words soak into me. Then I smiled, teeth and all.

“Well, you aren’t wrong.” I smirked and left him standing there in confusion, but I turned around once more to say, “but hey, now that you let me fight, there’s no going back. I guess you’re going to have to get used to me taking charge.” I winked at him and saw his dimples pop back on his face. “Well, I guess-”

“Oh wait, before you go, I just wanted to say thank you for saving my life, I really was in a... pickle over there.” I held in a chuckle at his word choice and shook my head.

“No problem, you saved mine too, I guess we’re even. Meaning, you have no more leverage over me.” I wiggled my eyebrows and turned away from him, but I didn’t go far before he called my name.

“Oh wait y/n,” I turned to face the boy. He dug his hands into his pockets and gave me a boyish grin. “See you are practice tomorrow?” I felt my cheekbones stand high and proud as I let out a chuckle.

“For sure.”

[sithlordintraining]

She’s No Angel (Part 27)

A/N: No one asked, but me and my crazy mouth are doing fine. I just started eating solid foods and I’m pretty sure I weigh 30 pounds soaking wet now. Anyways, we are almost done with this crazy series. 

tagged:  @hoe-for-kylo @rebeccamaximoff @this-one-you-see

She’s No Angel Masterlist

News that Kylo Ren had been hit spread like wildfire. Hux thought it was too premature to celebrate and of course he was right, as he was just informed that the Knights of Ren had rescued their master. Lucky sped down the hall eyes moving frantically behind the helmet as he searched for you. He knew that you were there when Kylo’s ship had been blown up, but of course he was stationed with the General on the other side of the base. He needed to find you to tell you that the Knights had rescued him and they were returning to the base right this moment. He grunted from the obstructed view that the helmet provided. He ripped the helmet off and continued his search down the hallway. Turning down various corridors, he picked up a scent that had become apart of his life. He did his best to follow your scent; he ignored the crazy looks from the officers and they ceased as the crowds became sparse the more he walked. The scent got stronger and he picked up his pace, breaking into a jog. “ANGEL!” He yelled as he turned down the hallway but to his surprise he saw Serena. She turned with large orange eyes staring at the stormtrooper who was confused as to why you had Angel’s scent. For sure Serena knew she was caught, but when he quickly walked away, she knew she was in the clear. For now.

There were only two places left for you to go and since he was on the lower level, he might as well check your hideout first. He saw Kylo’s stalker droid outside of the room and knew you were inside. Punching in the code, he quickly entered and pushed the droid with his boot so he wouldn't get it. “Angel,” He sighed, turning to take in your tear-stricken face. Her hair had been pulled from the regulated ponytail; boots, gloves, and greatcoat discarded on the floor, as her bloodshot eyes stared widely at her best friend. “Angel?” His brows furrowed as he watched her knees press further into her chest as she gripped her datapad tightly. “I killed him.” She whispered. “No,” he said softly. She just shook her head as more tears fell down her cheeks. “Angel he was rescued by his knights. He’s going to be fine.” Lucky reassured you, but you didn’t listen as your eyes fell to your datapad. “Okay Angel stop looking at-“ He snatched the datapad from your hand and looked at it. “Somber Skies? Really Angel? And chapter 12?!” Lucky sighed. “I killed him! What if he ret-“ You broke down, putting your head between your knees. Lucky's comm went off. “The ship just landed, he’s going to be transported to the north medbay, come on we can make it.” He squeezed her calf.

It took sometime before Lucky, Angel, and BB-9 made it to the north medbay. Lucky took you the long way, avoiding heavy populated areas. Your sobs were quieter, but every once and awhile you would break down a little. Lucky, couldn’t let others see you like this; not just because you were a Lieutenant General, but because you were his friend. Noise could be heard as soon as the elevator doors opened. The pair and the droid walked their way to the main medical center where doctors and nurses were rushing back and forth. “HALT! THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA! HALT! THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA!” A large droid crossed in front of them. The little BB rolled up in front of it to tell it off. “Dr. Zar!” Lucky called out. The older man turned to see Lucky quickly approaching. “Dr. Zar, is he here?” Lucky asked as you stood in a daze with the two droids still arguing. “Yes, but,” He gulped. “He is in critical condition.” Lucky looked back at you with sad eyes. “But h-he’ll make it through right?” Lucky pushed. “We will do our best, but he was floating in space for quite some time. We are pretty sure the only way he survived was through the force. He’s drained.” The doctor shook his head and then looked sadly at you. Dr. Zar sighed before speaking. “I’ll tell Ava to contact you if something changes, but for now I must go.” The call of his name had him rushing into the room. Lucky rushed back and bent to the droids level. “You stay here and keep an eye out for Kylo Ren. If anything changes, find us.” Lucky synced his comm with the droid so he could know where he was at all time. Lucky scooped you up and carried you back to the hideout.

The soothing sound of a heartbeat caused your eyes to flutter open. The room was dark and took you a few moments for your eyes to adjust. Looking around, you noticed that you weren’t in your actual quarters. You noticed how your fingers were tightly gripping the black fabric that moved with every breath. Looking up, you could make out the freckles that were dusted across Lucky’s cheek. His left hand gently held your body close to him and the fingers of his right hand lazily in your hair for combing, as his slightly parted lips laid gently on your forehead. Cautiously, you remove yourself from his hold; with a deep breath, you prop your head on the wall to look at him. A finger connected the dots on his cheek, careful not to stir him. You thought back to your meeting with Snoke and his underlying mocking tone. ‘Fairytale’ you scoffed in your mind. There was nothing fairytale about your life. If it was, you and Lucky would be somewhere nice; he would have a family and you would have your mom, Hux would still be running something of course, and Phasma would be there, too! A smile graced your lips as you continued running your fingers across his cheek. It didn’t even cross your mind once that Kylo was nowhere included in this. A grumble from your stomach had you leaving your comfortable spot and venturing into the hall.

It must’ve been extremely late because there was no one in the hallway. You walked towards the nearest mess hall. You felt like a zombie and didn’t care how you looked. Sluggishly, you rolled your eyes as you yawned. With your ears popping, you missed the sounds of the beeping growing louder behind you. “Oomph!” You fell forward stumbling. Looking to see what hit you, you saw your droid speeding by you. You broke out into a light jog calling for the droid to stop, but it ignored as it continued to beep. “I have to tell mother!” It repeated. “I’m right here!” You yelled out but it kept moving. It made a sharp turn to the left and excitedly started beeping. You were just about to turn the corner when you heard a female voice. “Woah, hey Bubby! Wha-” Serena started, but the beeping continued. “Kylo was in critical-” The beeps cut her off once more. “He’s okay, well that’s good, Bubby!” Serena rubbed the droid. You twitched as the droid called her mother. It had to be coincidence, right? You stayed back and watched as the droid dragged the technician away from her section. You waited a few seconds before following them; low and behold you ended up at the medbay and heart rate began to increase. Kylo was here and he was alive. All you could think about was getting to him as you made your way to his private room. You had finally made it after peeking into every window of each room. As you made it to him, you saw BB-9 and Serena by Kylo’s bedside. The tears slowly slid down your face as you watched Serena reach out and grab his hand. This was strike two.

It had been a week and you hadn’t set foot in that room. And yet, you followed Serena every night and watched her with Kylo’s unconscious self. The BB droid refused to leave his side and you weren’t complaining. The feelings were mutual, you didn’t like it either. You would stare through the window as the tears rolled down when you watched them. But after a while, they ceased. You’d become numb to the sight in front of you, numb to the whole situation. You weren’t even upset at the fact you almost killed him, he didn’t listen in the first place. Then you stopped showing. You didn’t even ask to be notified when he was awake, you were so over it. While he was unconscious, you fell into a pattern of being by yourself and you genuinely missed it. Not to mention, all the time Lucky was spending with you. It felt like old times as you laughed at the old holo-movie you two were now watching squished up on the single bed in your hideout. Lucky’s eyes were locked at the projection in front of him when he heard you speak. “I miss this.” It was so soft, he could’ve missed it. “I miss this too, Angel.” He smiled brightly, only for it to fade at the sight of you. “No, I mean before everything; when everything was simple and routined. Before the promotion and Snoke and Kylo, before Matt.” You finally turned to look at him. Lucky sighed because he understands.

“You know I have a bounty on my head? I didn’t know that becoming a Lieutenant would mean an automatic assassin on your tail.” She told him. He just nodded, because he knew. “I miss exploring planets and keeping everyone happy, I miss going to the mess hall, I miss having friends. I miss Seventies and Bear and Zero and Smith,” Tears began to gloss over (y/e/c) eyes as you thought of your deceased friends. “I miss you! I miss being with you, hanging with you, just doing anything and everything and not have to worry about Kylo or Ava, don’t you miss that?!” You snapped as the tears fell. Lucky’s eyes cast down letting his lashes brush against his cheek as he found the strength to speak. “Ava is cheating on me.” You gasped, you couldn’t believe what he had said. Ava had been obsessed with the dashing trooper YEARS before Angel came onto the scene and she finally got him, and this is how she treated him? “Lucky, I-I’m sorry, ar-are you sure?” You placed a hand gently on his back. “She thinks I’m cheating on you, so she told me ‘she could do the same’.” He looked up at you. “L-Lucky, I-I’m sorry. Y-you should go.” As much as you hated her, you loved him more. And if he really did like Ava, you would help his relationship survive because that’s what friends are for. Also, you did now how it feels; it wasn’t certain that Kylo and Serena were having an affair, but there were signs. But you decided not to bring that up, this was Lucky’s time to vent. He always listened to you and now it was your time to listen. “No,” His hand gripped you as he held a steady gaze. “I’m not going anywhere. You need me and this is my job; not just as your head guard but as your best friend. She knows this and if she wants to be petty, then let her. I love you, Angel. I’m never going to leave you.” A sob wracked through your body as you engulfed him in a hug. “I-I’m sorry Lucky, I’m sorry. You deserve more than this. I wish I c-could take you away and give you a real life and a family an-and” You cried as he began to wipe your tears. “Hey, hey, I love my life and I have a family I wouldn’t trade for the universe.” He pressed a kiss near the corner of your lips and you could feel a tingling sensation throughout your whole body. More tears rolled down your cheeks as you silently cried.

It took all his strength just to open his eyes, to a blurred version of you. The light surrounded your head like a halo as his vision started to clear. His lips parted in awe at the sight in front of him. “Angel,” His voice was huskier after being in an induced coma. “Kylo,” Your hand laid gently on his and the beeps from the machine started to increase. You went to remove your hand but he held a light grip. “Stay,” You just shook your head. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode. Seeing him like this was weird, he was so helpless; and no matter how you were feeling about everything going on, you knew your heart was hurting for almost killing him. “I’m sorry Kylo.” You said lowly. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you played with your fingers. Kylo said nothing as he just watched you. There was something off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. As Kylo’s health began to restore itself, you became a frequent visitor. You would spend most of your meals with him, talk to him, and just keep him company since he wasn’t ready to be released. Everyone was so shocked that the Commander was so compliant with these rules. But you also noticed there was something different about him. Sometimes, when you would come visit he would look like he was caught. Dr. Zar had told you that late night, Kylo would begin having conversations, but fully aware of the situations. This made you nervous because Kylo already had a hard time sleeping. It was during one of your lunch visits to Kylo when one of his Knights entered the room. “Snoke is aboard the ship and he requests his apprentice.” You turned to see Kylo who for the first time looked scared to see Snoke.

In silence, you held Kylo’s hand as the Knight showed you to the impromptu room. You’ve never been to this part of the base, but you tried to keep your eyes from wandering because Kylo appeared so bothered. And not his irritably bothered position but nervous. Large blast doors opened to reveal the Supreme Leader and his guards; before you can even bow, he shouted: “Leave us!” The Knight nodded and turned. You were about to do the same until you were being held in your place. Your eyes trailed from the large pale hand that was wrapped around yours up to the face it belonged to. Soft brown eyes broken by his scar pleaded with you. “Let her go, she’s needed on a mission.” Snoke scolded his apprentice. Kylo flinched his hand back, you gave him a sad look before following his Knight. Walking to the hangar, you couldn’t get the strange feeling out of your chest, something was wrong with Kylo. You walked up the ramp of the command shuttle, you were to support the Knights of Ren on a mission since Kylo was recovering. Thankfully, they listened to you and not just because you were their Master’s girlfriend, but the respect they had for you.

Your chin rested on your fist as you stared aimlessly in front of you. “He’s going to be okay, he’s just a little shaken up.” Vibar, one of his Knights, sat in front of you. You just nodded and relaxed a little. “It’s not your fault, you were thinking about the Order, doing your job.” He told you. Right, they were all force sensitive here. “Snoke just wants to see him because he believes that Kylo is closer to the force because of his revival.” He reassured him. (Y/e/c) eyes widened under the dim light of the cabin. “How? How’d you revive him?” You asked. “We didn’t,” Vibar said and your heart stopped. “We all felt his signature disappear, we just went to retrieve the body out of respect. But when we did we felt something, a new one, but bright.” You leaned forward. “Like someone else’s? Somebody else saved him? Did you see anyone?” Vibar shook his head. “Yes, but through the force. I’ve never seen or heard or read about this, but I believe that is what happened. It is possible from a force bond.” You didn’t know much about the force, though it did intrigue you, you just never ventured to learn about it. You wanted to ask Kylo, but he just seemed too dismissive of the subject. “What’s a force bond?” You asked. “It’s a powerful connection that existed between two force users; they can communicate and share visions. It’s rare but it happens.” Vibar told you. “It could’ve been Luke Skywalker or-or his mother?” You asked. “Possibly, yes. I believe that’s why Snoke requested him; his force is stronger than ever but he can’t sway to the light.”

After dealing with Snoke, Kylo was released and found himself wandering to your quarters. He was surprised at how well the meeting went. Snoke was genuinely concerned about his apprentice. He stepped past the blast doors and the scent of you hit him. An ache in his chest formed remembering how sad you looked to leave him. BB-9 rolled around him welcoming him back. A small smile was placed on his full lips. He was tired. Kylo took a shower and slid under your soft covers. Dark hair spilled over the pillow as he felt the cold air flow against the droplets of his bare chest. With parted lips, he stared up at the ceiling holding his breath. “Stop that!” The accented voice clipped. His stare remained on the ceiling. “It took you long enough.” He said. “What do you want Ben?” Rey moved to his peripheral. “Something’s off.” He shook his head. “It’s the bond.” “No, it’s...her signature, it’s not right,” Kylo said. “The girl that visited you?” Rey inquired. He nodded, now turning his head to look at her. “Ever since I’ve awakened, Y/N’s signature has been different, from when she visited me before.” Rey extended her hand. “Show me,” Was all she said before his fingertips touched hers. Memories of the past cycles with you flowed between. Rey shut her eyes, furrowing her brows when everything stopped. “It wasn’t her.” She said. Kylo looked at her with confusion. “The woman that was with you at Snoke, wasn’t the same one who visited you every night.”

P.S.: One- Scandal is straight wild and it’ I didn’t want to put a death warning s only been SIX FUCKING MINUTES! Two- any ideas for part 28?Also, I know it seems like I’m just throwing in a random character, but in the long run it will make sense. I promise. Hit me up with comments, concerns, jokes, reminding me that Kylo Ren passed out when he got a blowjob, anything. I miss talking to you guys. I JUST WANT TO STATE: Right now, from this point on, no matter what happens in the sequel trilogy, this series will end the way I want it to end. Events that I want to happen. People I choose to die. So if it is somewhat similar to the movie: I did it first. AND SUPER THANKFUL FOR ALL THE SNA FANS THOSE FROM THE BEGINNING AND THOSE TUNING IN NOW!!! I just want to say thank you for everything <3 (if anyone is still here)

[dandelions-sea-blog]

These are the Nights That Never Die Chapter Two

Read on Ao3(so much better there)

Papyrus, Edge and Sans have a chat

Previous || First || Next

“paps, no.”

“But Sans!”

“no,” Papyrus’ older brother said, sharpening his blade. Papyrus crossed his arms; Sans looked up, unimpressed. “It’s too dangerous.”

Papyrus glanced over to Edge with a pleading look, hoping that at least his rough counterpart would take his side. Much to his dismay Edge simply shook his head, wilting any hopes that Papyrus had of coming with them. “He has a point,” The other justified. “Someone responsible needs to stay here and guard homebase.”

“Besides, the engine still needs looking at,” Sans said, loading his pistol. “Ever since we hit that hoard it’s been making a sound… we can’t afford it breaking down if we’re in a fight.”

Papyrus sighed, knowing full well that wasn’t the main reason his sibling refused to let Papyrus come with them; he hated how his sibling refused to make eye contact with him as Sans stood.

Edge had already packed his guns and first aid kit. Supplies had been running low for a while; their last big “refueling” stop had been when they picked up their newest traveler. Even then, it has been months since the outbreak, and by now all of the fresh food had rotted, leaving only the cans that other survivors have yet to pick up. Occasionally they will find a home that miraculously still had power; the frozen food there gave them a good meal for the night. Yet with so many mouths to feed it seemed that supplies vanished as soon as they came.

“The store was about half a mile from here,” Sans said. “There shouldn’t be any of them out at this time of night; I think they like to go home… though ya never know; some of them can be pretty dead-icated,” He snapped his fingers, winking at the two larger skeletons who simply groan at the bad joke, though Papyrus with just a touch of fondness.

With that Sans stood up, sliding on his backpack that stood almost as tall as he did. Edge carried the larger weapons, making sure that the hunting rifle was left loaded and ready for Papyrus. The two walked out the door, promising to try to make it back before sunrise. Papyrus sighed, waving as the left before going to the cubbies in the living room to retrieve his tools. He might as well start on the engine…

“Hello?”

Papyrus stopped in his tracks; his eye wandered back to the door to the master bedroom. Blue’s voice is instantly recognizable; deep and melodic, yet cheerful. A peppy version of Papyrus’ own brother - which is what Blue is, after all. He was about to answer Blue’s call, letting Blue know that it was just him rooting around in the living room.

“Pappy… I’m older than you…”

Huh? Oh! He must have been on the phone with his brother. Papyrus smiled subtly, picking up his tools and the rifle before heading outside. He wouldn’t interrupt; hopefully Blue would go right to sleep after his call. Not that Papyrus didn’t love having his company - far from it. Blue’s optimism was a very welcome part of this very scary new life; however, if the other slept through the night then the little skeleton wouldn’t have to be bothered with worrying about the others, like Papyrus would.

Papyrus walked out to the front of the RV, infinitely grateful for the solar panels that kept the lights going in this park. He and Edge would have to remove them when they get ready to head out; the more power they can generate for their home the better. It will be hard to do without magic - since the outbreak all monster magic had inexplicably stopped working, including that which powered most of their technology. Which meant that Papyrus had to learn a whole new system of electronics.

Of course, there is no challenge too great for the Great Papyrus… but this one does make things a lot more difficult for him. He popped the hood open with a lever on the underside of the RV, reaching inside to check each part of the engine. Ideally, he would like to have it replaced; but even if they do find the exact model they would need for this rather rare vehicle, the group would have to stop for at least a day or two to install it. And that’s assuming that there aren’t any complications. The risk would be too great - if they happen to be attacked during the process there would be no way to flee, and if by chance any damage is done to either the current engine or the replacement there is no guarantee that Papyrus could fix it. He’s a mechanic, not a miracle worker.

So for now, maybe just giggling some parts and flushing out the engine would do.

As Papyrus was loosening some of the screws he heard a sound outside. He paused, placing the wrench down on the ground and slowly picking up the rifle. There was no such thing as too careful, after all, not anymore…

Papyrus made his footfalls as quiet as possible, turning the corner of the RV. His soul banged against his rib cage, causing his fingers to quiver against their tight grip. After careful searching, Papyrus concluded that it was just his imagination - or perhaps the wind, or a wild animal.

But, thankfully, not a zombie.

He was about to head back to his work at the engine when he heard something far more terrible than the moans of the undead.

“Doooooomfannnnger!!”

Papyrus’ soul froze entirely, stopping in his chest as he turned on his heel to face the woods. That was Blue’s voice, no doubt about it. But he should have been inside!! Where it’s safe!! Why would he go out into the woods!? Shouting like that, no less! He was going to attract the attention of a zombie that way, and once as one found him there would be several more to follow...

Hands tightened around the gun, Papyrus sprinted into the forest after his very happy, yet very unbalanced new friend.

“so he just walked out into the woods??”

The group sits huddled around the table, cups of coffee and tea in each set of hands. Sans and Edge had just returned from their ‘shopping trip’. They came back with a fairly good haul - a week ago this would have been enough for months, but now it might last them two or three weeks, at most. The early morning sun dances through the window, illuminating their grim faces.

Papyrus nods in response to the question, staring down at the off-red mixture in his cup. Edge’s fist flies onto the table with BANG .

“AND YOU DID NOTHING TO STOP HIM!?” Edge shouts, causing Papyrus to flinch. Sans shushes him, motioning to the door in back with a little sight taped to it reading ‘Blue and Red’s Room - No Girls Allowed!’. Edge sits back down from his half stand, sipping his black coffee as he glares out the window.

“I… I did not realize he had left,” Papyrus admits. “I was fixing the engine, and I assumed he was on the phone with his brother.” He taps his cup awkwardly, feeling guilt and shame for almost allowing Blue to be murdered.

Edge grunts. “These delusions of his are no longer cute nor endearing…” He says, quick to add a muttered, “If they ever were.”

“what can we do?” Sans says amiably. “you saw how he was when we picked him up; if he didn’t find some way to cope he would have fallen down…”

“Wouldn’t he be the lucky one…” Edge jokes in a humorless tone, moving his cup from his lap so that Doomfanger can leap onto him.

“speaking of which - wasn’t it your cat that he was chasing in the first place?” Sans asks, looking to Papyrus for confirmation. Papyrus takes a moment before responding, nodding despite his fear of starting a conflict. Just as he predicted, Edge’s face scrunches up in a scowl.

“You dare try to blame Doomfanger for this!?” He cries, clutching the fluffy cat to his chest. He nearly spills his coffee all over the table.

Sans holds up his hands in surrender. “nah, nah - but we should really take some precautions t’ make sure she don’t get out again… for her sake as well as ours.”

Edge sits back down in his booth, crossing his arms as he huffs. “...Very well,” He says, nodding along. “I will make sure that she does not leave my sight from now on…” Papyrus smiles subtly. That isn’t entirely what Sans meant, but he has faith that his very edgy friend will do everything in his power to protect his pet. Edge turns to Papyrus next, “Did the pipsqueak say how Doomfanger got out?” He asks.

“No, he said he doesn’t know,” Papyrus shrugs. “I will take a look around for any loose vents or holes that she could have escaped from, though.”

Edge nods, seeming satisfied with that response.

“welp,” Sans says, popping his ‘p’s and standing up. He finishes off the last of his coffee, downing even the sugary cream that settled at the bottom. There is no wastefulness allowed here. “we’ve all had a long day, and if we don’t want the kiddo on our backs in a few hours we should probably hit the sack.”

Edge nods in agreement, finishing off his cup much lower as he collects their dishes. He goes to clean them off now rather than in the morning with a dry rag. They can’t afford to use their water supply on something so small. Papyrus helps some before Edge climbs up into his bunker above the cockpit. The space is just big enough for him to stretch out and relax in his bunk before closing the privacy curtain. Papyrus watches as Sans struggles to open the couch-bed, moving his brother out of the way as he undoes the latch with ease.

“heh... that thing is busted,” Sans says, flopping out on the unfolded mattress.

“Or maybe I’m just more talented than you when it comes to bed-making,” Papyrus retorts.

“yeah, that’s probably it. yer the bed- st at it.”

Papyrus snorts, shaking his head. “That was the worst,” Sans smiles and papyrus spins around to point at his brother. “ Don’t - I can see that pun forming in your mind!” He says, watching as his brother snickers into his pillow. “Go to sleep, Sans!”

“‘k”

“I mean it Sans!”

“i’m sleeping, i’m sleeping…”

“Then why are your eyes open…”

“yer eyes don’t have’t be closed t’ snooze; there is much you don’t know about sleeping, my pupil .”

“That one doesn’t even make any sense!!!”

“that’s because i’m tryin’ t’ sleep.”

Papyrus rolls his eyes, a subtle smile playing at his mouth as he turns around.  “Good night, Sans,” He says, opening up the back-room door. “I’ll be just a moment.”

He quietly tiptoes into the room, careful not to disturb Red’s sleeping bag on the floor. He walks over to to the bed, watching the small skeleton buried in the covers rest peacefully. Unlike everyone else here, there are no permanent bags under his eyes. His face is completely relaxed as he sleeps, oblivious to the world around him.

Papyrus sits down next to him, resting a hand on the other’s head. He is so glad that they found him; life has gotten so much nicer since Blue arrived. Even if the rest of them can’t escape this horrible reality, having him around fuels their optimism. Edge had been far more closed off, Sans’ outlook a lot more bleak, and even Papyrus was beginning to feel the effects of the world closing in around them.

And yet, waking up every morning and having breakfast together, taking turns doing chores, planning for their next ‘destination’ on their ‘trip’… it was honestly kind of fun. They weren’t just surviving day-to-day anymore. Things felt almost… normal, for a change.

Blue whimpers in his sleep, turning over to escape Papyrus’ touch and settle back into the sheets. “Pappy, go to sleep…” He mumbles, Papyrus understanding the words were not meant for him. He just snorts, sliding off the bed.

“Okay, Sans,” He says quietly, heading for the door. “Goodnight…”

“ ‘Night…”

Papyrus smiles, shutting the door with as much grace needed to preserve the precious silence in the room. His cheeks suddenly feel warm, and Papyrus reaches up to feel wetness under his eyes as something catches in his throat. His hand quickly moves down to his mouth, covering it before any sound can escape. He chokes down his sobs, refusing to allow his silly emotions to ruin the peace of this moment.

Swallowing hard, Papyrus turns around and returns to the fold out bed with his brother.

[sserpente]

Condolescence (Chapter XVII)

Pairing: Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive) x OFC Language: English Rating: M

Read it on AO3!

“What?!” Adam pulled away. He narrowed his eyes, the mesmerising blue in them sparkling with fear, anguish and… was it rage? Tal’s voice shuddered when she continued.

“I want you to turn me. Make me a vampire. Adam, I know that eventually, I will grow old and undesirable and I will die.”

“Tal, stop…” He closed his eyes, fighting for composure. He still had her sitting in his lap, crossing her fingers behind his neck and gently forcing him to look at her.

“I love you and you said you love me. Let me stay with you forever. What’s left for me here? I’m homeless, I don’t have a job, my ex-boyfriend almost got me killed… There is nobody I could lose if I choose this. Let us travel the world together, Adam, let us find sustenance somewhere else. And we can always come back here if you want.”

“Tal…” Of course he wanted to. Having her stay with him forever sounded like witnessing the sunrise again, appreciating every ounce of colour, every inch of light creeping towards his dark form… but he would curse her, damn her to an existence that promised nothing but fear, loneliness and pain.

Her eyes were wet with tears, she could practically hear him thinking about her dangerous suggestion, a choice that if once made, could never be undone and she knew, he had already decided.

Adam could not bear doing this to the woman he had fallen for. Eve had already been a vampire when he met her, young, free and accepting of her hazardous nature that required to kill, blood and to take innocent lives.

We have both chosen to live differently, Adam. You can teach her to do the same. She will be like you. Let her be with you. You want it! For the first time, Eve’s voice sounded like piercing needles boring through his skull and tormenting his brain.

Taking a deep breath, he gently pushed the human girl off of him and set her on the bed before getting up and burying his face in his hands.

“No,” he murmured, barely audible. Tal let out a sob. “I can’t. You… you are too precious… too… I cannot make you a monster like me.”

“A monster? You think you’re a monster?” Her lips parted, shock and confusion present on her face as she shifted, her tears flowing freely now. He hated how they stained her perfect cheeks, reddening her beige eyes. Nothing but lust, love, happiness and desire should ever reflect in them and it physically ached him to know he was the reason for her grief.

If he turned her… would she be unhappy? She was, for all he knew, very well aware she could never again walk in the sunlight or enjoy a warm day on the beach, have a delicious meal in a restaurant or stay in one place for too long.

“Adam, stop pondering over this so much. I love you! And I choose this. I choose you! You’re not a monster, you’re not a bad person, you are my… my saviour! When you took me in, I was a picture of misery and you… you gave me hope again. How could this be wrong? You can’t scare me anymore.” She cried out in between a couple of heart-breaking sobs.

The vampire resisted the urge to rush forward and pull her into his arms until she stopped crying, weighing her in his arms and let her forget for just a moment that nothing but his comfort existed.

He was being selfish. He couldn’t live with the guilt if he turned her, forcing her to become this feared and frightening creature of the night but if he did… he would be selfish for locking her to him forever, even if she had been the one to suggest this atrocity in the first place.

He almost scoffed at the thought. Only weeks ago, he had cursed those zombies, belittling them for depraving their own planet, their food, their own blood and now, all he could think of was how Tal would be affected by all of this.

He had depraved her. By feeding on her, by sleeping with her… and now, by rising her wish to become like him.

“I love you too. Fuck, I love you so much it fucking hurts but you can’t make me do this to you! Tal, you’re so petite, so…”

“Do you honestly think I couldn’t deal with it?! I want to be with you! I know I can do it! I’m not weak!” She bellowed, clenching her fists. Fuck, she looked sexy when she was angry too. Her cheeks reddened, her hair wild and her beige eyes sparkling with hot emotion.

Adam tore his gaze away before he would pounce on her like a lion in heat, making love to her—no, fucking her into the mattress and feeding on her until she forgot her own name. Until she forgot she wanted to become a blood-sucking monster.

“Adam.” She said. She could read him too well. She knew he was getting carried away, lost in thought, dreaming of something he couldn’t have—not right now. He was tormenting himself and he did so happily. Tal wanted to break him free of that curse, show him that his existence, being a vampire and taking life to live forever could be more than torture and endless loneliness.

“Please. Don’t you…” She swallowed thickly, her lips parting anxiously. She hadn’t thought about it before. What if the reason he didn’t want to turn her was… “Don’t you… I mean, want to be with me? Am I just… temporary? Not worth it?”

“Don’t you fucking say that ever again. You’re too fucking good for me. I’ll deprave you even further if I turn you into a blood-sucking monster, I don’t want that for you! What if something happens to me, Tallulah? What if you end up alone? You’ll be cursing your existence and you’ll be suffering from the loneliness that comes with it and trust me, it will come.” He hissed, giving in to his anger now himself. He would in fact lunge on her if they continued this conversation.

“Why are you being so pessimistic? Adam, I love you! I. Love. You. I am taking whatever risks come with me becoming a vampire willingly, you can’t make me stay away from you!”

The vampire sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t want you to stay away from me.”

“Then where do you think will this go on the long term?”

The ring on the doorbell interrupted their heated argument. Dense like used up oxygen, it settled on the carpet, ready to float again as soon as the unwanted visitor had gone again.

“Who is that?” Tal asked, her voice shaking. Adam only gave her a thoughtful look before bolting downstairs to send away whoever had found his home again, causing her to clumsily get back on her feet herself to wait by the stairs, leaning against the railing to listen.

“Adam! Oh, I missed you so much!” The young blonde woman throwing herself into his arms when he opened the heavy door to let the moonlight enter the house, might as well rip her heart in two.

➡️ Find all chapters on my masterlist!

[redditnosleep]

Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200, and Whatever You Do, Do Not Let Her Inside

by AllDreamNoDrive

I walked through death on my way to Cam’s house.

Above me, skeletal trees lined the road, reaching their crooked branches towards the dark, wet sky. Their green leaves had already turned red, then yellow, before falling about the street in piles. It was almost winter. Whatever the wind hadn’t blown away rotted on the sidewalk, squishing under my sneakers.

I pulled my jacket over my head. We had some nasty weather recently, but this was by far the worst. The kind of night that caused accidents, flooded rivers and threw trees onto telephone wires. There was no doubt in my mind— bad things happened on nights like these.

Thankfully, Cam only lived seven houses down from mine. I knocked on his front door.

A few seconds later, I heard his muffled voice on the other side. “Who is it?”

“Uh, it’s Matt,” I said. “Open the door! It’s freezing out here.”

The lock clicked and the door swung wide, revealing Cam’s apologetic face. “Sorry,” he said, “I guess our neighbor saw somebody prowling around the neighborhood. My mom’s freaked. She’s making me ask ‘who is it’ every time somebody comes to the door. So annoying.”

“How do you guys have a mail slot but not a spy hole?”

“I dunno, it’s retarded. C’mon, I’m almost done setting up.”

Inside, a Monopoly board lay open on the dining room table, stacks of multicolor banknotes stuffed under the edges. I could smell melted cheese coming from the steaming pizza box on the counter. Rain pitter-pattered on the kitchen skylight. Cam’s mom hurried around the house, late for her work function. Between fixing earrings and stumbling into her shoes, she thanked me for coming over and told us not to do anything stupid. “And make sure the doors and windows are locked,” she said before leaving. “You know Delores saw a strange person standing in her front yard last week.”

“Yeah well, Mrs. Delores believes in mermaids, Mom!” Cam shouted towards the back door. He waited for the mechanic hum of the garage door shutting. “I think my mom’s been watching too much Criminal Minds,” he said. “She even tried calling my sister’s friend to come babysit.”

“... Katie?” I asked, hopefully.

“Really?” Cam rolled his eyes. “One: she’s way older than you, and two: she didn’t answer anyways.” We sat down at the table. “I mean, we’re thirteen. Not like we need protecting, right?”

I shrugged. “I’m ok with it. Especially if it’s Katie.”

Cam shook his head. “Gross dude. Delores is actually crazy though,” he added. “I bring in her garbage can every week. Once she told me that her grandma is a bloodsucking alien.” He chuckled and dumped out a bunch of silver tokens on the table. “Let me guess. You’re gonna be the thimble.”

“Got me,” I said, grabbing the piece and placing it on the board.

As Cam sifted through the pile of tokens, I looked around at the walls around the kitchen. Several huge Alaskan crabs were pinned up on plaques, arms outstretched like giant armored spiders. I always thought it was kind of bizarre, but Cam’s dad was a career fisherman and liked his trophies. My attention returned to the table as Cam slammed down the silver scottie dog token onto the board. He crossed his eyes. “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” he said in a mock Dorothy voice.

It was about an hour after we started playing and the game was heating up. Cam had just landed in jail, when somebody knocked on the front door. It wasn’t a normal knock. More like a heavy pounding— slow, calculated. From where I was sitting at the dining room table, I could see the door. The knock came again.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Me and Cam looked at each other with wide eyes. We thought it was the cops.

But after a few seconds and still nobody called Police!, we got up hesitantly and tiptoed towards the door. Cam put his ear against the wood and listened. He must not have heard much of anything, because a moment later he asked, “Who is it?” Pause.

“It’s me,” came the eerie voice from the other side.

If our eyes were wide before, now they were dinner plates. Me and Cam just looked at each other, unsure of what to do. “Who?” Cam asked again, shakily.

“It’s me. Your mom. Open the door.”

The voice was strange and halting. Like the body it belonged to hadn’t breathed enough air to speak, but still tore the words from their lungs. I couldn’t even tell if it was actually a woman. For that matter, I couldn’t even tell if it was... human. Whoever was on the other side of the door, it wasn’t Cam’s mom.

Cam backed away from the door. “You’re not my mom.”

“Yes. Yes I am. Open up.” The door handle wriggled.

I put a hand to my chest— my heart was thumping a million miles a minute. By the sound of Cam’s voice, so was his. He spoke loudly, trying to hide the tremble in his words. “Go away. You better leave now, we’re calling the cops!”

We stood there, still as statues. Silence.

“Check the window,” Cam hissed, after a few minutes.

I looked at him bug eyed. “You go check the window!”

“I can’t hear anything. I think she’s gone. Go check.” Cam gave me a little shove. “Don’t be a pussy,” he added.

I slapped away his hand and gave him a scathing look, but still got down on my hands and knees, crawling towards the bay window. The wooden floor felt cold on my palms. As I neared the window, Cam flicked off the lights. Reaching up, I pulled aside a corner of the pale muslin curtain and peeked outside… at first, I didn’t notice anything.

But then—

There, at the corner of the driveway. A figure. Barely illuminated by the yellow glow of the light above the garage. It stood so still that I almost mistook it for a shadow. I squinted, but the harder I looked, the more its shape seemed to waver in the rain. I couldn’t see a face, but I could just make out a mess of long, black hair. All of the sudden, it turned around and walked away.

“See anyone?” Cam whispered. He had crept up to the window.

“Somebody at the end of your driveway. They walked down that way.”

“Fricken’ wierdos in this neighborhood, I swear.”

“We should call the cops,” I said. I was honestly shaken.

Cam protested immediately. “No way. It was probably nothing,” he said, trying to brush it off. “The cops would come, ask a bunch of questions, call my mom. Can you imagine? She wouldn’t let me leave the house for the rest of the year. Besides, it was just a joke— did you hear that voice? Think about it. Nobody talks like that.”

“Yeah, exactly. You were scared too.”

“What, do you think it was… a zombie? A phantom?” Cam stretched his arms and pretended to be a ghost. “OooOOooooO… let me in child, I must suck on your brain!” He laughed. “Don’t be dumb. Let’s finish the game. I just bought Boardwalk. I bet you just don’t wanna play ‘cause you know you’re gonna lose.”

Well, he was partly right. I really hated losing.

Soon enough, we were back into Monopoly and had nearly forgotten about the whole incident. Still, I kept peeking at the door, half expecting to hear the loud knocks at any minute… but they never came again. Towards the end of the game, I was pretty much convinced that the person I saw was just another neighborhood prankster.

As it turns out, I ended up winning. Cam was livid. The entire time we spent putting the game back into the box, he couldn’t stop talking about how “cheap and unfair” it was. I just laughed. We were just about to fold up the board, when I happened to glance at the front door again—

And dropped everything I was holding. I stumbled back into the table.

“What is it?” I heard Cam ask, urgently. He sounded far away.

A set of scrawny fingers had opened the mail slot in Cam’s front door. They rested on the inside, holding ajar the small brass cover. Through the tiny rectangular slot, a face looked into the house. It was smiling. It was looking straight at me.

I tried to scream but the sound caught deep in my throat. I flailed a pointing finger towards the door. Cam rushed over, just in time to see the face and fingers retreat out of the mail slot. He ran over to the window and peeked outside. I crawled into the kitchen and hid behind the countertop. A moment later Cam crouched next to me.

“Ok, that was really creepy,” he said. “I didn’t see anyone out there.”

“I’m calling the police, Cam.”

“Yeah, alright. Yeah. Good idea. You call, my phone made it into the laundry, remember? ”

I pulled out my phone and put it on speaker. It rang twice before the operator picked up.

911, what is your emergency?

I talked as fast as I could. “Hi, um, we think somebody is trying to break into the house, we’re alone, can you send somebody quick?”

Who is in the home with you?

“It’s just me and my friend Cam, it’s his house, we’re both thirteen, his parents are out working, can you hurry please?”

Are you at 1408 Berryrock Road?

I looked at Cam. “Yeah, that’s it,” he said out loud.

Ok. I’m going to give you some directions, please listen very carefully. Are the doors and all the windows locked?

“Yes, we think so,” I said.

Ok. Unlock the front door.

I hesitated. This seemed like an odd request. Cam gave me a quizzical look. “Um, what?” I asked, tentatively.

Unlock the front door.

Cam piped up. “What? No way, I don’t see any cop lights out there yet. We’re not gonna do that.”

Do it. Open the door.

“Who is this?” Cam demanded. “We called 911, who is this?”

It’s me. It’s your mother. Open up now, sweetie. Open the door.

I smashed my phone against the floor and threw it over the counter. I’m not ashamed to say I felt like crying. What was going on? I was sure I dialed 911. How was this possible? Cam rubbed his face in his hands. He was just as rattled. “Ok, ok, ok. What do we do, what do we do?” he said to himself.

“When is your mom supposed to get back?” I asked.

“I dunno, I dunno… she said late. What is happening? I am seriously freaked out right now.”

“What about your dad’s gun cabinet?”

“It’s locked. I don’t know where the key is. He hides it somewhere. We could look for it in his room…” Cam wrinkled his brow and looked around. “Hey, do you hear that?”

“Huh?” I held my breath and listened. The wind blowing, creaking the beams of the house. The throbbing, heavy rain. And something else, slightly louder. A slow tapping. Sharp, like a fingernail against glass. It came from the ceiling. I looked up.

Above us, a woman crouched over the skylight, face against the glass. At least, I think it was a woman. Her black hair lay splayed out, writhing across the window. Her cheeks gaunt, eyes sunken far back into her skull. Her fingers tapped on the window. She smiled. She licked the glass. She didn’t look real. I thought I was hallucinating.

But Cam saw her too. He screamed.

The next thing I knew, we were running down Cam’s hallway. We burst into his room, slamming and locking the door behind us. I was trying to calm my breath. I could feel my asthma acting up and I didn’t bring my inhaler. Cam started pacing back and forth. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” he said, over and over again. “Oh my god.”

We barely had time to catch our breath before we heard the tapping again. Closer this time. On Cam’s bedroom window. The blinds were closed, but somehow she still knew we were in there. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Lightning flashed outside. For a second, her grotesque silhouette spread across the window.

“Here.” Cam was pushing something into my hands. A bat. “We need to get away from the windows,” he said. He was holding a knife, the blade gleaming red in the light of his oozing lava lamp. “Hurry!”

Cam ran into the hallway. I followed him into the bathroom at the end of the hall. It didn’t have any windows. He turned off the light and locked the door. We both crouched in the long tub, hiding behind the curtain. The baseball bat shook in my grip.

“I don’t think she can get inside unless we let her,” Cam said. “Right? Otherwise she would’ve already broken through window, right?”

I nodded numbly— I couldn’t say anything. I was too scared. But I hoped he was right. At least we couldn’t hear the tapping anymore.

For a long while we crouched there. I don’t know exactly how long. It’s hard to get a sense of time, when you’re terrified and all you have to count is your breath. It could’ve been minutes or hours, but at some point, we heard the front door creak open and swing shut. Slowly.

Footsteps throughout the house. Cam and I tried to be quiet, tried to slow our breathing. The footsteps came closer, and closer, until they stopped right outside the bathroom. The door jiggled. A moment later, the lock clicked. I held the baseball bat as tight as I could. The light flicked on.

“Cameron?” came a female voice.

I got ready to swing. My muscles tensed. Cam raised his knife.

A hand pulled aside the shower curtain.

It was Katie.

We almost beat up Katie.

“Jesus!” she shouted, taking a step back. “Holy shit, are you guys ok? What’s going on?”

“Katie,” Cam said frantically, “how did you get in? Did you lock the door? Please tell me you locked the door!”

“Calm down, I locked the door. I used the key your mom gave me. Sorry, she left a voicemail asking me to keep an eye on you tonight. I just got it and came over to check. What’s the matter? Your neighbor said that she heard screaming.”

“Oh my god, somebody’s been trying to break in, we called the cops but…” Cam began to say, before pausing. “Wait, our neighbor heard us screaming? Which neighbor?”

“Your new neighbor. She was standing outside when I pulled up. Came over to check on you too.”

“Wait Katie, wait. Our new neighbor? We’ve had the same neighbors since I was six.”

“Oh, really? You should ask her yourself then.” Katie opened the bathroom door completely and looked out into the hallway. She seemed confused.

“Hmm, that’s strange,” Katie said, “she was just behind me…”

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds S07E07 “There’s No Place Like Home”

Episode 07 – There’s No Place Like Home

Hey guys!

So, I am kind of excited about this episode, because the title is implying tornadoes, storms and chaos, oh my. And also some amazing references that I am hoping will crop up - fingers crossed ...

So without any further ado, my pretties.

Let’s see what unfolds and let’s prance down the yellow brick road towards murder.

“Finally got him down.”

“The Ibuprofen must have kicked in.”

“It’s about some missing kids.”

“Please don’t walk away like that.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I know this is hard on you. On all of us.”

“Look, if I had someone to cover my shifts, I would.”

“What if it was Henry?”

“What if it was?”

“You’d want someone out there looking for him.”

“I wasn’t helping anyone there, Will.”

“Fine, I’ll tell them I can’t come in.”

“I was supposed to have time off.”

“Henry’s not feeling well.”

“You don’t have to be here.”

“Ah, I get antsy when I’m gone too long.”

“And thanks for the team’s donation to ALS in Carolyn’s name. She would have appreciated it.”

“So how are you doing?”

“I’m okay. It’s funny, though. We were divorced 20 years. And I never missed her as much as I do right now.”

“Hey, you. Welcome back.”

“Good to be back, Penelope.”

I love their friendship.

“We’re ready when you are, sir.”

“The bodies of two unidentified boys were found near Wichita, Kansas, a week apart.”

“Both were Caucasian  and between the ages of fifteen and seventeen.”

“They were each found mangled in the aftermath of a tornado.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what did them in. The ME has determined that the case of death was blunt force trauma to the head before the storms hit.”

“Well, the death blow in each case was in almost exactly the same spot.”

“Now, what about all the other damage to their bodies? Some of their limbs are missing.”

“Yeah, victim number one, his right leg was taken off. Victim number two, both arms were severed. But was that because of the tornado or the unsub?”

“The ME still hasn’t discovered that. He’s a busy guy. Major storms have hit the area. 23 dead. The morgue is slammed.”

“It fits the unsub. He’s got a hell of a sadistic streak.”

“Well, a tornado would clear the air and give the unsub the privacy to do his thing.”

“He may be using the storm as the body disposition modality. Forensic countermeasure, wind, hail, rain, mother nature destroys the crime scene.”

“Or he wants us to think mother nature actually committed the murders.”

“What concerns me is the brief periods between kills.”

“Only a week. He’s moving fast.”

“We need to move faster. Garcia, get me IDs on all the victims.”

“I’m a gale-force wind.”

“Wheels up in thirty.”

“Oh, and pack for foul weather.”

“The forecast is nasty.”

George Gissing: “For the man sound of body and serene of mind, there is no such thing as bad weather. Every day has its beauty. And storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously.”

“Right in the middle of tornado alley.”

“If this unsub is using tornadoes as a forensic countermeasure, then Kansas certainly is the ideal setting.”

“Tornadoes do pose a significant threat.”

“During this year’s super outbreak back in April, there are 336 confirmed tornadoes in just several days, resulting in over 300 lives lost.”

Ding dong

“Hey. Tell us something good, mama.”

“Okay, I’ve IDed your victims. I’m putting this all on your tablets if you’d like to follow along.”

“First up is Jason Meredith, 16-year-old runaway from Garden City, Kansas. Mom said he took off over a year ago.”

“Next up is Eric Janelle, 15-year-old kid form Wichita. He’s been gone three weeks.”

“Oh, both of these kids have records for possession and prostitution.”

“They were street hustlers.”

“At-risk teens. This could be a sexual predator.”

“An extremely violent one if the unsub is responsible for the damage done to the bodies, especially those missing limbs.”

“Well, now, he could be keeping the body parts for some sort of fetish.”

“Oh, okay, eew. That is my cue.”

“I’m here if you need me with my binary machines that don’t say gross things.”

She’s so cute!

Is he praying? Oh Rossi.

“I didn’t know you were a bad flyer.”

“I’m not. I just hate turbulence.”

“You know, turbulence very rarely causes planes to crash.”

“That does me absolutely no good at the moment.”

“Thank you.”

“What we really need to worry about are microbursts, sudden downbursts of air associated with thunderstorms.”

Someone needs to shield my poodle from this angry stallion.

“But a small craft like this, if we hit one of those at the wrong attitude

– 

pulverized.”

Oh Reid.

“I beg of you to make him stop.”

JJ already has Will and Henry to deal with, why add poodle to her list of worries?

“Well, the unsub definitely has his own mode of transportation. This is way up the beaten path.”

“And the first victim, Jason Meredith, was found over thirty miles away.”

“You say you were able to clear this place before the storm hit?”

“I didn’t know you could do that for tornadoes.”

“Okay, so the unsub either found a way in or he was already here and he hid during the evacuation.”

“That, or the body got sucked up into the funnel cloud and was thrown there from someplace else.”

“Either way, he came into close contact with this storm. Maybe even close enough to put himself in danger.”

“Or he waited someplace safe for it to pass and came back and dumped the body.”

“No, I think the storm itself actually means something to this guy.”

“You don’t think he’s just using it to cover his tracks?”

“I played ball in college with a guy from Indiana. He said he and his boys used to get drunk and then chase storms. Said it was the closest they could get to the true power of God.”

“Okay, so he’s impulsive, probably young, maybe a loner with nothing to lose.”

“We should be looking at actual storm-chasers.”

“Where can we find them?”

“They mostly work with the university.”

Well, crap. 

“You think this guy’s educated.”

“Well, he knows enough about the weather to use it to his advantage.”

“So far it’s working.”

“Here you go.”

“When was the last time you saw Jason?”

“Do you know why he would leave home?”

“And how did Jason cope with that?”

“So it sounds like you and Eric were pretty good friends.”

“Your foster mom said that you used to get in a lot of fights before Eric got there.”

“So he looks out for you.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“We found him a couple of days ago.”

“He took the news about Eric pretty well.”

“Tough kid.”

“I guess they have to be. They’re all alone.”

“Each of the victims had a strong protective instinct and was looking out for somebody else besides themselves.”

“Maybe the unsub is keying on that.”

“Boys like that are hard to fool.”

“What if he used to be one of them?”

“I mean, those kids would see right through someone trying to be a poseur.”

“If his MO is connected to the weather, he’s gonna try to grab another boy soon.”

“Identical blows to the head.”

“They had alcohol and dextromethorphan in their systems?”

“It’s cough syrup.”

“It’s a cheap high, if you can steal it.”

“And these two had a whole lot of it on board.”

“What were you able to from all the damage to the bodies?”

“Mostly?”

“I’m guessing with an axe or a cleaver.”

“Cut off postmortem.”

“They both have ligature marks on their wrists and ankles, at least what they have left of them.”

“He held them before the kill.”

“Was there any sign of sexual assault?”

Nope. Even if there were, the tornado probably cleaned it up real good.

“So, he guts them drunk and high, he restrains them, kills them, and cleaves off a limb as a souvenir.”

“Then he dumps the body and lets the storm clean up his mess.”

“But why the souvenir?”

“What or who, exactly, is he trying to remember?”

“Okay, time to go.”

And get out of that creepy morgue with the sandwich-eating ME who handles dead people and eatsd in the same room .... gross.

“Name’s Gary Dyson. Sixteen. Runaway from Kansas City.”

“This particular area get hit with a tornado last night?”

“The weather’s gotta be the trigger.”

“He’s following the patterns.”

“We track the storms, we find the unsub.”

“Forensic evidence has been washed away. But behaviorally, it’s the most intact crime scene we’ve encountered so far.”

“It’s the same blow to the head, but no cuts, no abrasions.’

“Except he’s missing his torso.”

“It was only a matter of time before he missed one.”

“Tornadoes are extremely unpredictable and sometimes last only a matter of minutes before they dissipate.”

“The fact that he was able to leave his previous victims directly in the path of one is astounding.”

“So the conditions were perfect last night, but his tornado never came.”

“It’s only been four days.”

“He’s accelerating.”

“And the weather’s driving him to do it.”

“Guys, we know that fetishists are loyal to the body parts they take, but I think that this unsub is loyal to the whole of these parts.”

“If you were to take the missing pieces from all the victims so far, you could almost assemble an entire body.”

“So he’s not taking bodies apart, he’s putting one together.”

Yup.

“We’re looking for a white male in his mid- to late-20s. He’s mobile and he travels great distances to follow storms.”

“He’s probably in a tuck or a van.”

“We believe he may live in that vehicle. It’s probably beat up, maybe rusted from the elements.”

“Sorry.”

“Jeffrey Dahmer, serial killer, was under the illusion that he could create young male sex zombies that wouldn’t resist his advances.”

“And when Dahmer’s test subjects died, he kept their body parts souvenirs.”

“Skulls, hearts, even genitalia.”

“Restoring body parts is no small task. They’re gonna get ripe fast.”

“He needs lots of ice, salt, maybe, something to preserve them.”

“And he’s paying for all that stuff somehow. Gas, too.”

Uh-oh.

“He doesn’t have the social skills to hold a job for long, so he’s most likely a day laborer, handyman, anything transitory.”

“We think he’s using the weather as a forensic countermeasure to destroy evidence, but we also think he might be some sort of symphoraphiliac.”

“Sorry, symphora what?”

I’m with that cop.

“Uh, excuse me.”

“Symphoraphiliacs – they’re sexually aroused by disasters.”

“Usually fires or traffic accidents. In this case, the weather must enhance his excitement.”

“He hunts street kids, so he may be from a similar background.”

“And he’s most likely uneducated, but he’s still charming enough to engage his victims.”

“We’ll talk to the press.”

“You should warn any transient kids you might know.”

“As this weather gets worse, so will the unsub.”

“Since when is a seizure fine?”

“But his fever broke.”

“Did you give his medicine this morning?”

“Did he feel warm?”

“Well, you checked, right?”

“Nothing. I … where is he now?”

“Okay. I’ll call you when my flight arrives.”

“Henry’s sick. I’m coming home.”

“Call you later?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh, it’s Henry. He had a whole seizure.”

“Will took him to the ER. He … he’s fine.”

“Apparently, it’s totally normal.”

“Look, I gotta get back home.”

“Of course.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Can I borrow the jet?”

“I think the budget oversight committee might not appreciate my generosity.

“Yeah, well, worth a shot, right?”

“Check in and let us know everything’s all right.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Hey, Hotch.”

“I’ve been thinking … the vast majority of unsub with this type of MO aren’t driven by the killing.”

“They’re really fascinated by the body parts.”

“Psychologically they exist in a realm where fantasy meets delusion. It’s basically the perfect blueprint for the creation of a serial killer …”

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Should probably get to the point.”

“I think I know how this unsub may have gotten started.”

“All right, the first victim was found missing his right leg, the second, both arms, and the third had no torso.”

“So that leaves the left leg unaccounted for.”

“We can assume the head would be the most difficult piece to find.”

“That part would have to fit an unsub’s fantasy perfectly.”

“So he’d most likely save it for last.”

“Now, what that tells us is there’s a victim out there we haven’t found yet who’s missing his left leg.”

“Or the unsub hasn’t acquired it yet.”

“True, but most body part collectors evolve to this level, and in many cases they  exhume bodies for parts before they start killing.”

“All right, let me call Garcia.”

“So you think our unsub did the same thing.”

Was my poodle’s lecture unclear?

“PG at your service, don’t let the name fool you.”

“Baby girl, you’re on speaker.”

“Garcia, can you look for grave robberies in tornado alley over the last five years?”

“Okey-dokey.”

“Searching.”

“Oh. That’s a shockingly big list.”

“Who knew grave-robbing was so on trend?”

“How many of those involve the bodies of teenage boys?”

“Uh …”

“None.”

“What about morgues and funeral homes?”

“Momentito …”

“Again, that is a list that should not be that big.”

“Mostly stolen embalming fluid, though.”

“It’s often used like PCP, Garcia.”

“I’m feeling optimistic about the youth of America.”

“There are no teenagers involved in this either.”

“All right, try looking for thefts involving body parts, specifically left legs.”

“Okay, ew! See, this is why I can’t talk about how my day was at dinner.”

“Breakfast, lunch.”

“Spencer, you scare me.”

“Join the club.”

Ha.

Hey!

“A left leg was stolen off a body a year ago at the Riggio Funeral Home in Tulsa.”

“They never found who did it.”

“Garcia, what was the weather like in the area at the time?”

“Uh, thunderstorms and tornadoes.”

Yup.

“An F2 cyclone hit right around there, and then the robbery took place after they evacuated.”

“It’s gotta be our unsub.”

“Wait, there’s more.”

“The guy whose leg was stolen, he was a 47-year-old father of two who died of leukemia.”

“That’s a huge jump.”

“Preferential child sex offenders don’t usually stray from their preferred age range.”

“It’s not about the sex at all.”

“He used the body from the funeral home to develop his MO so he could live out his fantasy and kill in a storm.”

“Whatever it is, this unsub won’t stop until he finds a perfect head.”

“That’s the final piece to his puzzle.”

“Hey. Thought you were out of here.”

“Flights are canceled ‘cause of the weather.”

“How’s Henry?”

“He’s headed home. Finally released him.”

Finally.

“That’s great news.”

“Where are you guys off to?”

“To the university to talk to some storm chasers.”

“Stay dry.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Who’s that with Hotch?”

“There’s been another abduction.”

“A boy named Shaun Rutledge. That’s his younger brother Billy.”

“He says a young white guy with an RV attacked him with a crowbar in the rain.”

“He’s also changed his victim selection criteria.”

“The boy he grabbed gets straight As, plays football, even volunteers at his church.”

“So he wanted him so badly, he was willing to leave a witness?”

“Which suggests he’s losing touch with reality and his delusions are starting to take over.”

“What is it about this kid that was so attractive to him?”

“He was teenage and Caucasian like the others, right?”

“We also think that a sexual element may actually not be at play.”

So then what the hell is driving this guy?”

“Maybe it’s love.”

“What if he’s trying to recreate someone he loves?”

“It is an emotion that drives us to extremes.”

“If he’s trying to recreate someone, it’s probably somebody he loved and lost.”

“Wait. You said he was with his big brother, right?”

“Holla at your girl.”

“Baby girl, I need those great big beautiful brains of yours.”

“Jazz hands ready. Gimme.”

“Okay, look at all the teenage male victims or tornadoes in the last ten years. Same geography as before.”

“That would be male, 13 to 18 … 42.”

“How many victims had younger brothers that survived/”

“Uh … ten.”

“The unsub might have been a high-risk kid.”

No shit.

“Garcia, how many of the survivors have criminal records?”

“I got two for you.”

“First up is 27-year-old Justin  Harris, had a DUI in 2008. Next is 22-year-old Travis James.”

“Ooh, little troublemaker. Shoplifting, possession, and prostitution. Oh, my.”

“And all when he was a minor.”

“You got a home address or a vehicle registered in his name?”

“Uh-uh. None.”

“You got a photo on this guy?”

“It’s on your tablet right now.”

“All right, this is a composite sketch from the description the kid gave.”

“Old school.”

Huh? What’s going on?

“Oh, my God. This poor kid.”

“In 2001, Travis James lost his big brother Tucker and his mom Jan when a tornado hit the McCleary Trailer Park in Enid, Oklahoma.”

“So our guy’s a local.”

Oops.

“Oh, that’s great.”

“Hang on, Garcia. The power just went out.”

“Garcia, I think we’re good. Keep going.”

“Sometime before this evil tornado touched down, Travis, along with five other boys, testified against a one Roscoe Gulch.”

“For what?”

“It appears that this Gulch character was a notorious pedophile in the area, and he was a resident of the same trailer park as Travis and his family.”

“It looks like brother Tucker had confronted this Gulch person lots of times. He even broke the creep’s nose once.”

“He was protecting his little brother.”

Cutie.

“Oh. And then the plot thickens. According to a statement from Travis, right after Gulch was acquitted, he and his brother went to Gulch’s mobile home.”

“Travis said he saw the mobile home get swallowed up by the tornado. And when he came out there was nothing left.”

“He was found in pieces. It took his DNA and dental records to ID him.”

“Travis went into foster care and he was reported missing in 2003. He ran away.”

“Ten years ago his brother got ripped apart, and now he’s trying to put him back together?”

Frankenstein, anyone?

This reminds me of something.

“But why start killing now?”

Good question.

“Garcia, send me current weather reports for the area, including radar images if you have them.”

“Ask and you shall receive.”

“It is on your tablets.”

“With the weather in the area, he’s going to be so excited, he won’t wait.”

“He’ll take the boy to the closest area with the most activity.”

“That’s right around here, just southeast of us.”

“It’s Frankenstein.”

“What?”

“The unsub isn’t trying to put his brother back together, he’s trying to bring him back from the dead.”

“He believes that tornadoes have the power to take life, so conversely, they should have the power to restore it.”

“We’ll pick up Rossi and Prentiss on the way. Let’s go.”

“Garcia, what have you got?”

“Sir, I found your trigger.”

“A year ago, a tornado ripped through a cemetery near Tulsa. One of the 53 graves that was disturbed was that of Tucker James.”

“His brother was killed by a storm, then his memorial was destroyed by one.”

“Now he’s using both to build a memorial of his own.”

“Now that he has that boy’s head, the delusion will completely to take over.”

“Garcia, those storm chasers at the university we talked to, they should be out in full force.”

“I’m sending you their number now. Tell them to be on the lookout for the unsub’s RV.”

“And, Garcia, patch into their radio chatter.”

“They’ll know where the storms are.”

“On it, my pretties.”

“We need to head into those areas with the most precipitation.”

“So make a right at the next intersection.”

“It should be Pawnee Road.”

“Hey, how exactly are we supposed to chase this storm?”

“The unsub won’t actually chase the storm.”

“To get close to it, you have to get in front of it.”

“It’s a little like playing chicken.”

It’s official, I iam un-American ... I have no idea what playing chicken is ... is that like when a kid is being stupid an drunning after something that might hurt it andx then running away? Oh, I get it, cuz chickens are stupid ... oh my god ,I cannot believe I had to actually think about this.

“Uh-oh.”

“What?”

“It’s frozen.”

“Hey, Hotch. We just lost the internet.”

Worst thing to ever happen.

“I’m frozen up, too.”

“The weather must be affecting the upload.”

“I’m patching Garcia in.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Garcia, we just lost our internet and we need you to guide us into the storm.”

“Consider me your eyes and ears, sir.”

“Okay, guys, a twister has been spotted near Rose Hill just south of your position. The storm-chaser dudes are calling it a landspout.”

“We don’t want that one. Landspout tornadoes are relatively insignificant.”

“Where to, then?”

“Garcia, look for hook echoes on your monitor.’

“Hey, hook echoes.”

“Yeah. Okay, I’m gonna do that.”

“Just tell me what they are.”

“They’re swirling hook-like radar signatures that look surprisingly like what you’d expect them to.”

“Okay. Uh …”

“No, I don’t see anything like that.”

“They’ll likely form in those red and violet areas on the map.”

“I don’t see anything that looks even remotely like that.”

“Okay, they shouldn’t be too far from our current positions. He’s close.”

“Oh, God.”

“No, wait ...”

“Wait, yes!”

“Yes, I see it.”

“Oh, that’s gotta be it. Yes, ye…”

She’s just the cutest thing ever!

“Where, Garcia?”

“Oh, no, no.’

That’s never good.

“What? What is it?”

“There are two.”

“We’ll have to split up.”

“Which way, Garcia?”

“Uh, okay. Half of you can stay in your current heading.”

“The other half, make a … right on Meadowlark Road.”

“Morgan, take Meadowlark Road. We’ll keep going.”

“Got it.”

“Hey, I just got a hit from the storm-chaser dudes on the RV. You guys are the closest.”

GPS - Garcia Positioning System ... sorry .. I just couldn’t help myself.

“Where are we talking, Garcia?”

“Heading east on Summer Road just north of your position, make a left on Prairie Creek.”

“It’s the next left.”

“You got it.”

“Hang on, guys.”

Uh oh, reckless Derek driving!

“What’s that up there? Near the old house.”

Whoops, poodle spotted something with his little eye.

“Travis James, FBI!”

“Put the weapon down!”

“We can’t do that, Travis.”

“Just let Shaun go and we can work this out.”

“That’s his name, you know.”

“He has a little brother, too.”

“We know you saw them when you attacked them.”

“Travis, Tucker would not want this. He would want to protect you like he did with Roscoe Gulch. Just let him go and we can help you.”

“I’m telling you, we need to cover now!”

Yeah, no kidding, dude!

“Come on, man, put the weapon down!”

“Put it down!”

.... The fuck did we just witness?

Did that twister just sweep a dude? FUCK!

At least they saved the kid.

Here’s how my honeys deal with a Gale-force twister:

Arthur Golden: “Adversity is like a strong wind. It tears from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that we see ourselves as we really are.”

Aww, momma bear is callin ghome, I love JJ so much.

“So the weather’s supposed to break tomorrow. I should be home sometimes in the afternoon.”

“I’ll call and let you know for sure.”

“Yeah. Sort of. It’s kind of weird.”

“I’m … I’m fine. It’s just … been a really long day.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry about everything.”

“So, uh, is he still up?”

I love this kid!

“Hi! Hi, little man.”

“How … how are you?”

“I heard you, um, you went to the doctor.”

“Not yet, buddy. Tomorrow. I promise.”

“So, are you ready for story time?”

“Yeah? Okay.”

“Daddy, you ready?”

Daddy is ready.

“Bedtime for Baby Star.”

“Once there was a Baby Star, he lived up near the sun. and every night at bedtime, that Baby Star wanted to have some fun. He would shine and shine and fall and twinkle, oh, so bright, and he said, ‘Mommy, I’ll run away if you make me say good night’. And then his mommy kissed him on his sparkly nose and said, ‘No matter where you go, no matter where you are, no matter how big you grow, and even if you stray far … I’ll love you forever, ‘cause you’ll always be my Baby Star’.”

“Good night.”

This is the cutest kid in the world! (Aside from Jack Hotchner)

So this episode was all over the place - I was fearful for Henry’s health, for my pretties handling that weirdo in the tornado - that dude getting torn apart by that twister! Oh my! Also, the many - many - references from Garcia just made my day and the reference to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was pretty cool ... and lest we not forget that all the parents awards go to JJ and Will ... they really should tie the knot, they’re so cute together!

As ever, thank you ever so much for keeping up with my inconsistency in publishing these posts ... I’m just trying to get my shit together with these and I’m seriously lagging behind because my work (currently a call center representative taking messages for over 5,000 different companies) is demanding and toll-taking and sometimes I’m just not in the mood to review my facve show ... BLASPHEMY!

So I’mt rying to get back on track.

LOVE YOU GUYS

[selfignitingimagines]

Scott- Especially Me

Request-  hello lovely! would you do an imagine where the reader is an extremely old kitsune and friend of the pack? a hunter catches her off guard and poisons her, and her memory starts blurring until she can't remember the time period or anyone and fights the pack when they try to help her. it can be with whoever in the pack or no one, love you so much and your writing is always fantastic!! 😘❤️

A/N- I’ve been working on this one for like two months. Still not sure if I’m happy with it, but I hope you like it!

“What are we even doing here?” Stiles muttered.

“No clue,” Lydia informed him, trailing her fingers across the cold metal of a locker.

She glanced behind her, taking an extra glance at the darkened hallway they were walking through. “Waiting for something to finally kill us?”

“Haha,” Stiles said humorlessly. “You know that could actually be a possibility, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot,” she answered dryly. “It’s not like I’ve almost died here three or four times.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and glanced around the school. Everything was dark, and silent, and in any other town it might have been peaceful, but here, it felt insidious. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to pop out from behind every corner, that it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

“Did Y/n say why she needed us here?” Lydia questioned.

Stiles shrugged, and pulled out his phone. “Nah, she just said that it was an emergency and that Scott and the others were on their way too.”

“Huh,” Lydia murmured, glancing around once more. “It doesn’t seem like an emergency.”

“Maybe she found another body while she was studying?” he suggested. “You know she’s usually calm about this type of thing.”

Lydia scoffed. “Only because she’s been alive for so long.”

“And she still looks great too.”

Lydia rolled her eyes at him, and suddenly frowned. “If she found a body, why wouldn’t I feel it?”

“Beats me.”

She sighed and began to turn the corner, but a small scraping sound from behind her caused her to turn. “Did you hear that?”

“Uh, no. Was it a banshee thing? Do you hear-”

“Shh!” she hissed.

It was coming from down the hall, a thin, slicing noise that caused the hair on the back of her arms to rise.

“Oh, hey, it’s her,” Stiles remarked.

You were coming down the hall, sword in hand, and trailing it across the lockers.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he called, walking forward.

“Stiles, wait,” Lydia said quietly, but he waved her off.

“We got your text,” he announced, holding up his phone. “Y/n? You good?”

“Stiles, something’s wrong.”

Stiles wasn’t paying attention to Lydia’s protest. He walked down the hall to meet you, but before he could see the glazed look in your eyes, you raised your katana and swiped out at him.

“Woah!” he cried, ducking back just in time to have the fabric of his shirt sliced apart. “Okay, she’s definitely not hurt!”

“Stiles, come on!” Lydia screamed.

He scrambled back down the hall as you headed toward him, still walking, as if you had all the time in the world. Your lips were turned up in a smirk, and there was nothing on your face that suggested there was any trace of the girl they had known for a year. “What the hell is wrong with her? You think the Dread Doctors did something to her?”

“Why else would she be trying to stab us?” Lydia screeched, dragging him around a corner.

“I don’t know! Whatever it is, we better figure it out fast, or we’re going to be shish-kabobs.”

Lydia huffed and dragged him down the hall, hoping Scott would be there soon. She might have been a banshee, but she still hadn’t figured out how to use her powers, and for all of Stiles’ bravery, he wasn’t going to win a fight with you. As much as she hated to admit it, unless they figured out how to stop you, Stiles was going to be right.

Two Hours Earlier

You grunted as you fought against the restraints, but you were too groggy to do much of anything. Everything was still blurry, and while you couldn’t get out of the chair, you were conscious enough to track the figure moving around the dark room.

“I bet you’re not used to this, are you?” Theo asked, moving around the chair the Dread Doctors had left you in. “Being trapped.”

“I’ve been trapped plenty of times before,” you muttered.

“But you’ve always been able to get out.”

“Sometimes,” you agreed tiredly.

“Well, you’re not getting out of this one.”

“What did you do to me, Theo?” you snapped. “I should be able to rip right through this.”

He smirked. “That’s nothing a little mistletoe can’t fix.”

You huffed, and squirmed in the chair. Did Theo have to sound like a cocky asshole all the time?

“Are we underground?” you asked, glancing around at the piping along the walls.

“Maybe.”

With a roll of your eyes, you studied the room you were trapped in. It was wide, but empty, save for a few rusty tables covered with scalpels and pliers. You knew it was where the Dread Doctors created their experiments, and, understandably, you weren’t looking to become one.

“I knew there was something off about you,” you spat.

“Of course you did,” he said with a shrug. “So did Stiles. It’s too bad you couldn’t figure it out in time.”

“So what? You turn me into a chimera? I’m already a kitsune, you idiot.”

Theo chuckled softly. “Not exactly.”

He backed away and moved toward one of the tables across the room. “Have you ever heard of the Devil’s Breath?”

You glared at him, and he smiled. “I’ll take that as no.”

He grabbed a metal case from the table, and started to walk back toward you. “See, it’s also called Scopolamine, and it’s actually a pollen from Columbia. They call it the zombie drug, because when a person inhales it, you can make them do whatever you want.”

You bristled as he open the case. “It won’t work. I’ll metabolize it too quickly.”

“Not if it’s mixed with mistletoe.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m stronger than some plant.”

He smiled as he stared down at the open tin in his hands. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

“Theo-!” you protested, but that was the last thing you managed to get out before he blew the powder right in your face.

“Okay,” Stiles said as he slammed the door to an empty lab room “We’ve got about ten seconds until she breaks down that door, provided she still wants to play cat and mouse. Otherwise, she’d do it faster.”

“We have to find a way to snap her out of it,” Lydia breathed. “It’s the only way she’ll stop.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, she’s trying to slice us in half. I think we’re way past snapping her out of it.”

Lydia huffed and grabbed a lab table, dragging it in front of the door with a loud screech.

“What the hell are you doing?” Stiles demanded.

“She already knows where we are!” Lydia snapped. “She’s a kitsune, Stiles. At least this will hold her for a little longer.”

“‘A little’ meaning, what, all of three seconds?”

“Do you actually want us to die?” she snarled.

“Of course n-”

Before he could finish, her scathing expression turned to one of terror as something gleaming came right through the classroom door. The tip of your sword sliced right through the wood, just nearly missing her head, and she yelped.

Stiles rushed forward and jerked her back, shoving her behind him. He glanced frantically around for a way out, but unless they wanted to jump from a second story window onto concrete, there was nowhere else to go.

“Stiles,” she whimpered.

“I’m thinking,” he told her.

“Think faster!”

The sword disappeared from where it was lodged in the wood, but a sharp scream of rage suddenly cut through the air. The door suddenly rocked and trembled, buckling under the force of your body colliding with it.

Lydia gripped Stiles’ arm tightly. “She wouldn’t kill us. She couldn’t.”

“You wanna bet on that?”

Another slam echoed through the classroom, and Stiles backed as far as he could against the wall. Unfortunately, he didn’t have far to go.

“What if we could break open the door to the chemistry closet?” she asked.

“Lydia, there’s no way. Neither of us are strong enough.”

“Maybe together-” SLAM!

The door came crashing off of its hinges, landing onto the lab table Lydia had shoved in front of it. It only stopped you for a moment, and soon you were shoving the door onto the floor, and crouching on top of the table.

Your eyes glowed a bright orange, and your lips were peeled back in a sick grin.

“Y/n,” Lydia tried. “Please-”

You let out a feral yell, and the two screamed as you jumped toward them. Your sword was raised as you crossed the distance, but before you could swing, you heard a powerful yell.

“Y/N, STOP!”

Scott’s roar cut through the air, causing you to freeze in place. Suddenly, as if the hot, violent fever that had spread over you moments before had run it’s course, you dropped your katana and gasped. The rage was gone, and the suggestions that Theo had whispered to you hours ago now made you physically sick.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, reaching for Stiles and Lydia. “Oh my god, I’m sorry.”

They flinched back, unable to help themselves as you stepped forward. You swallowed and nodded in understanding, backing away. “I-I don’t know what I was doing.”

You whirled around to face Scott and Malia, but the Coyote let out a warning growl. You held up your hands. “Guys. It’s me.”

“We know,” she told you. “And you just tried to kill Stiles and Lydia.”

“I wasn’t...I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Didn’t look like that to me.”

“Malia,” Scott warned.

“It’s true.” You turned in surprise, to see Lydia stepping forward. “It was like she didn’t even recognize us, Scott. Like she was in a trance. It wasn’t her.”

“It was Theo,” you explained. “He drugged me, and then it was like everything he said...I wanted to do it.”

“Theo?” Scott demanded. “But he’s-”

“Working with the Dread Doctors!” Stiles cried. “I knew it!”

You swallowed and nodded, but you didn’t feel much like celebrating the discovery. You were still hung up on the fact that you just tried to kill some of your friends.

“Don’t trust him,” you said softly, hanging your head and heading toward the door.

Malia was still glaring at you suspiciously, but you just held up your hands in surrender and headed down the hall.

“Y/n, wait!” Lydia cried, but you sped up and rushed down the hall, fighting the tears threatening to spill.

To say that the past few weeks had been stressful wouldn’t even begin to describe the hell that you and the others had been going through. Kids were still dying, Kira was losing control, and now it appeared that you were too. It didn’t matter that Theo had drugged you. You had still listened, and you hated yourself for it.

You might have figured out he was working with the Dread Doctors, but that still didn’t give you a way to stop them. It didn’t stop anyone from dying, and you were almost the cause of Stiles and Lydia ending up as part of the body count.

You headed down the stairs, and shoved open the pair of doors closest to you, stepping out into the breezy night air. Sinking down onto the sidewalk, you placed your head in your hands and cried. You might have been a powerful kitsune, but that hadn’t made a sliver of difference against Theo earlier.

“Y/n?”

You blinked, and glanced up cautiously at the figure standing over you. Scott was looking down at you in concern, but you couldn’t get past the shame to feel grateful.

“You forgot this.”

He held your katana in his hands, but when he lowered it down, you flinched back. “I don’t want it.”

“You’ve saved a lot of lives with this thing.”

“And I almost took some tonight,” you reminded him, turning away. “Give it to Kira. Or Noshiko. Someone who won’t freak out and try to kill their friends with it.”

“Y/n. It’s okay.”

“None of this is okay,” you whispered miserably. “I tried to kill Stiles and Lydia. We still don’t know how to stop the Dread Doctors. We’re losing.”

You felt one of his warm hands come down on your shoulder, and he was suddenly sliding to the ground next to you. “Not for long. Things might be bad now, but you just gave us another piece of the puzzle. We know about Theo now.”

“What if I had ended up killing them?”

“Then we would know it wasn’t your fault,” he said firmly. “Y/n, we’ve all done things. We’ve all had to have someone pull us back from the edge.”

“Not you. You’re a true alpha.”

Scott’s lips twitched up. “You’d be surprised. I wasn’t always a true alpha.”

He pushed the sword toward you, and gently pressed it into your hands. “We’ve all made mistakes. It’s what we do after that counts.”

“So what am I supposed to do now?”

“Well,” he said thoughtfully. “No one really blames you, so I guess the only thing left to do is fight back.”

“How?” you demanded. “We’re out of our league here.”

“I’ve seen some pretty bad odds, Y/n. There’s always a chance.”

“And what if I lose control again?” you asked, your fingers tightening around the hilt of the katana. “What if they use me to get to you?”

“Then you’ll have to be stronger,” Scott said. “We all will.”

He reached up to cup your cheek with his hand, and you shivered, although it wasn’t in a bad way. “We’ve all done good and terrible things. Sometimes we can’t help it. And sometimes we just have to be better.”

You swallowed. “Okay.”

“You don’t have to sit out here alone. We’re all here for you. Well, except Kira, because she didn’t answer her phone, but especially me.”

“You?”

He nodded. “I don’t think you realize how amazing you are.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked up at him. “Really?”

“Of course.”

His brown eyes were warm and full of sincerity, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m really glad I found you guys.”

“I’m glad you found us too.”

He broke into a grin, and you felt your heart skip a beat inside your chest. You leaned forward, keeping the sword carefully in your lap as you wrapped you arms around his neck. You buried your head in his shoulder, and he pulled you closer, running his hand over your hair.

You closed your eyes and listened to his heart beating, clinging to the slow and steady thumping like it was the only thing keeping you sane. With the night you had just had, you figured that was probably true, and sitting there, wrapped in Scott’s arms, you didn’t mind at all.

If you really were losing it, you were just happy that he was there to ground you.

[welovekpopscenarios]

Anything for You (Ten x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Could I please have a fluffy scenario with NCT U’s Ten??? Thanks!!! (:

Fandom: NCT U

Genre: Fluff, slight angst?

Pairing: Ten x Reader

Warnings: vague mention of sex

Word Count: 2845

Authors Note: My first NCT request, and for one of my biases! (Well, my bias from NCT U, and I say one of, because I honestly can’t choose just one from NCT altogether) I absolutely love Ten, and I’m so happy I got to do this request. I’m sorry if it doesn’t seem as fluffy as you had hoped, but let me know/send in another request if you want! Let me know if there are errors, and happy reading ^^

-

Ten looked up from his game when he heard you sighing for what must have been at least the 8th time in a single minute, hands covering your face and elbows resting on the desk in front of you, littered with various textbooks and notebooks, and other necessities that could be found with a regular college student.

You’ve been studying and completing essays for the past 5 hours and 27 minutes (yes, he’s been counting, but he knows you’ve been at it for much longer, having come home to find you bent over the desk with your laptop open, fingers flitting across the keyboard in record speed), and you haven’t taken any breaks other than leaving to use the toilet or get more water (thank god you have a mind to stay hydrated, Ten thinks).

Ten was worried, and quite honestly baffled, at how you’ve been sitting in one position so long and staying focused on your studies, when you finished what would have been an 8-hour shift at the local gas station you worked at, having taken the extra hours, needing the money to pay your half of the bills. How you had the energy to continue on without rest, he had absolutely no clue (but he figures the cans of energy drinks stuffed at the bottom of the trash can and the near empty coffee jar are some of the main reasons), but it certainly wasn’t because of the sleep you’re getting. Many nights Ten has gone to bed alone, promises of “just 5 more minutes” never being fulfilled as he always catches you dragging yourself and nearly collapsing into bed at near 3am most nights. Some nights you even bring your work to bed, which is just as bad, because now you tend to view your sacred haven with disdain than associate it with the comfort it has always brought you.

Ten watched as you lifted your head from the cage of your hands, stretching your back. He cringed at the sound of popping and cracking, but you just exhaled in content, slumping forward once again, feeling as limp as a noodle. You stayed in that position for a moment; arms limp at your side, hair falling in front of your face and eyes roaming languidly across your desk, lids drooping is exhaustion.

He hated seeing you like this with a burning passion in his soul. It causes him so much pain to see you overwork yourself, knowing you aren’t like you were before, lively, carefree, happy. That’s the stress that comes with being an adult, he supposes, but you shouldn’t be neck deep in this amount.

Yes, things may be tough at home with the need for money to pay the rent and bills and food, and your dedication to passing your exams and your course and completing the assignments that have been piling up, but that doesn’t mean you need to shut everything out and drown yourself in work. He can see it’s driving you crazy, can’t remembering the last time he heard you smile or laugh properly. And it makes him feel sick with guilt and concern. As your boyfriend, he should be making you happy, helping you relax, being a shoulder to lean on when it’s needed. And he’s always ready for when you need it, always by your side, ready to catch you when you fall.

You’re just too stubborn to let yourself fall into his arms.

Whenever Ten tries to get you to go to bed at a reasonable time, or to eat when he hears the loud rumble of your stomach, or offers to take extra hours at his job instead of you when he sees you looking like you’re internally panicking about money, you always brush him off with a scowl and tell him to not worry about you (like that’s possible – he will never not worry about you, he loves you too much). He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, you’re at your wits end, but you just refuse to give up. He figures you’ll keep going until you die, and while your conviction can be seen as admirable, Ten just considers it as stupidity now.

You’re wearing yourself down, and he’s afraid you’re going to crumble and fade away right before his very eyes, and he feels useless. He feels like there’s nothing he can do.

As you go to pick up your pen from the ground where it had fallen some time ago (you were too absorbed in typing out your essay to stop and pick it up), Ten speaks up from his place on the couch, a pang of guilt hitting his heart as he once again feels shame from sitting down and playing his Playstation while you’re slaving over your work on the desk by the window.

“Hey, why don’t you take a break for a bit? Play some video games with me. Jaehyun let me borrow his copy of the newest Resident Evil game, finally. Why don’t you sit next to me and keep me safe?” He knew it was a long shot, that you’d just tell him no like you always do lately, and get frustrated because you got distracted, but he had to try.

You looked over your shoulder at him, and he had to stop himself from letting his jaw hang open at how you looked. He could barely see the whites of your eyes, too bloodshot to be healthy, and the bags under your eyes were nearly as dark as his hair. Your face was marred with fatigue and stress, worry lines spread across your forehead, more prominent now as your face contorted into a frown as you looked at him.

“No, Ten, I haven’t got time. And I don’t want to be interrupted again,” you snapped, before quickly sending an apologetic look for your harsh tone. Ten didn’t take it to heart, and he knew better than to make a comment about it. He wanted to avoid fights as much as possible – you didn’t need another problem to pile up on you. “I just want to get this finished with and take a shower, then go to bed. I need to be ready for work – I’m starting at 7.” And with that you turned back into the desk, flicking through pages of your notebooks, before adding “and please, keep the volume down? I can’t concentrate if there are loud, freaky noises coming from the game. I don’t want to listen to zombies right now.”

Ten wanted to make a joke about how there wasn’t really zombies in this Resident Evil, and that the only zombie here would be you, but he bit his tongue and faced the TV, turning down the volume and continuing the game in silence and with now little to no interest.

He had to somehow make you relax, if not for your sanity but for his, slowly growing restless and lonely. He misses you; misses the banter you would have, jumping on the couches and giggling like children, misses your lazy days, when the weather was unbearably hot and the two of you would lounge in the living room with the fans turned on, talking for hours on end until you both fell asleep. He misses your smiles, your hugs, your kisses, how you’d make him feel as if all the attention in the world was only on him, that it was you and him and no one else.

Now he’d be lucky if you spared him more than a few words before leaving to study.

He rolled his tongue against his cheek as his brain tried to come up with ways to help you relax. He could run you a hot bath? He’d buy you some of those nice oils that you like and light candles around the room. He can’t guarantee you won’t yell at him for spending money on you, though. That’s crossed off the list. He…he could give you a night of amazing sex? He doesn’t consider himself a bad lover, if the moans and words of praise from you were any indication of his performance. He’d be willing to try something new, if it would please you. But you’re always tired, and knows that you’d fall asleep as soon as he lays you on the bed. So, that crosses another idea off the list.

He is having trouble coming up with new ideas, one that doesn’t end in a possible fight over costs or you passing out as soon as you rest somewhere. That’s even if he can actually drag you away from the desk and find a free time when you finish work. A walk in the park? No, that seems too boring, he wanted this to be special for you-

Wait.

Wait.

He’s got it. The perfect idea. One he knows you’ll appreciate. And one that seems easy to do, and isn’t costly. And he remembers you saying something about having a shorter day at work this week.

It’s perfect.

He’ll have to send Johnny a text or call him tomorrow, he’ll need his help.

-

“Yo-yoooo,” Johnny greets, voice muffled through the speaker of the phone.

“Hey man, I need to borrow some things,” Ten gets straight to the point. The only day he could do this was tomorrow, so he had no time to waste.

“Uh, I’m not letting you borrow my bike chains for your weird sexual fantasies again, I need them,” Johnny drawls, and Ten splutters.

“Weird sexual fantasies?! I needed them for my bike last time! I didn’t do anything like that with them!” he argues.

“Uh huh,” he said, disbelief lacing his tone. “And you just so happened to be talking about trying something new in the bedroom earlier that week. What was it? Using blindfolds, and tying Y/N up?”

“Agh, I-“ Ten had to shake his head to clear his head, stopping himself before he got into an argument. Besides, chains were a bit too kinky. Maybe another night.

He huffed out a breath. “Listen,” he began and Johnny laughed, but Ten continued. “I need your help with something. Y/N’s been really busy lately, and she never gets any time to chill out or anything. She’s always either working or studying and I’m sick of it. So, I wanted to do something nice for her.” Ten pauses, before admitting: “I miss her so much, you know? I just feel like even though she could be sitting next to me, she’s never there.”

“Ah, so you need my help?” Johnny asks, tone considerably more sombre than when the conversation started, detectable even over the phone. He pities Ten, this was obviously a tough situation for the normally cheerful boy.

“Yes. Well, kind of. I just need a few things from you for my plan,” he explains, and Johnny is all ears.

“What do you need?”

“Well,” he starts, “do you still have those battery powered fairy lights from that barbeque you had last month?”

-

The morning of the plan, Ten tried not to let his excitement show, treating the start of the day like any other; waking up, pouring out a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal for you, kissing you on the cheek as you left for work, the usual. When the door closed, and he looked out the window of the apartment, seeing your car drive out of the parking lot and away, he nearly squealed out loud, and set to work immediately. He has to clean the apartment first, that way it would make things much easier for him later on.

And so, he sprinted around the living room, picking up trash and fluffing up cushions and dusting down tables, moving the furniture to leave a large open space and hoovering the floor. When all was done, he left the furniture as it was and dashed to the kitchen, raiding the fridge and cupboards to check for ingredients. Damn, not much there. He’ll have to go to the supermarket and get the ingredients fast if he was going to cook your favourite dinner and be back in time to set up the living room. And with that in mind, he put on his shoes and grabbed his wallet and keys, exiting the apartment in a rush.

-

One hour left. That was all Ten had.

He had arrived back in the apartment a while ago, breathless and arms loaded with bags, packed with food and sweets for tonight. He doesn’t think he’s ever cooked as fast in his life before today, chopping and slicing and cooking with a speed that would leave even Gordon Ramsay impressed. All for you.

Leaving the food to cook away, he made his way to the cupboards in your bedroom, pulling out every blanket, pillow and cushion he could find, including the ones lying on your bed. He carried them all to the living room, struggling to see past the mountain in his arms, bumping into a few things and muttering curses before he finally arrived and set to work, grabbing the fairy lights Johnny lent him that were hidden underneath the couch.

This was going to be great, he can feel it. You’re going to love this.

Well, he hopes.

-

You trudged your way up the stairs to your apartment, heaving a sigh, rolling your neck from side in an attempt to undo the kinks you gained from work.

You were exhausted beyond belief, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next 20 years of your life, but unfortunately, that 8 page paper that’s due next week was clawing onto your back, and you better get most of it done so you weren’t overloaded.

Reaching your door, you unlocked and when it opened, the most unexpected but delightful smell filled your senses. You recognised that smell; did Ten make you your favourite dinner?

Taking off your shoes with a perplexed expression, you closed the door behind you and walked towards the kitchen. When you opened the door, no one was there, not a plate of dinner in sight, the only evidence that food was made being the pots in the sink. You held back another sigh, one of you were going to have to clean everything up later, and since he made dinner, it was most likely going to be you.

Your shoulders sagged, and you headed towards the living room, ready to start you essay, but the image that greeted you upon pushing open the living room door stopped you in your tracks.

All of the furniture in the room had been pushed to the edges of walls to allow what looked to be a giant blanket fort situated in front of the television, a multitude of blankets and cushions scattered throughout the inside of it. It was adorned in beautiful little twinkling lights that shone in the semi dark room, casting a warm glow upon the fort and the surrounding area. Next, you noticed the food, plates filled to the brim with your favourite dish, and piles of your favourite sweets and junk food laying to the side, waiting to be demolished, your mouth watering already at the sight of them.

Finally, your eyes met Ten’s, who was sitting in the centre of it all, grinning ear to ear and looking positively proud of himself.

“Hey,” he said simply, and you struggled to formulate a response.

“W-wh…how…why…?” you questioned, giving up altogether on an actual sentence.

Ten’s smile turned sad, and your heart gave a lurch.

“Because I feel like I haven’t hung out with you in forever. You’re always busy, and you never give yourself any breaks. That’s not healthy, Y/N. So please, just relax, even if it’s just for tonight. I got you all of your favourite things! I set this up for you, I…hope you like it,” he said bashfully, smiling down at his hands.

“This is so beautiful, I can’t believe you did this,” you gasped, and Ten beamed at you. “But…” you trailed off, and your throat constricted upon seeing his face drop, swiftly looking at his hands rather than you. He looked so disappointed, and it broke your heart.

You know what? Paper be damned. You needed this, and you needed Ten, and this is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for you. You felt like a kid, looking at the fort, and started to bounce lightly on the balls of your feet.

“But,” you continued,” I’ll need to change into something comfier if I’m going to get in there.”

Ten gave an inaudible sigh of relief and grinned sweetly at you.

“I laid out your pyjamas on the bed for you.”

You walked over to where he was sitting and took his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his and a gentle and loving kiss, one he gladly returned.

“Thank you so much, I love you,” you whispered against his lips, and he pressed another chaste kiss to yours.

“Anything for you.”