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missinghan · 4 years ago

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to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters.

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it.

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side.

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.”

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.”

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing.

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes.

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications.

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids).

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed.

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?”

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home.

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much.

The problem is: he only stares at you that way.

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much.

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs.

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him.

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves.

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low.

Second side note: no one ever listens.

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully.

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break.

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist.

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?”

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically.

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset.

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic.

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine.

“You need me, we’re connected.”

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle.

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly.

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook.

three.

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions.

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months.

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily.

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day.

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being.

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners.

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?”

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified.

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior.

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again.

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin.

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head.

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while.

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you.

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that.

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now.

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night.

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape.

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.”

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner.

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth.

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two.

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way.

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.”

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him.

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated.

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class.

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down.

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above.

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face.

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy.

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride.

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks.

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters.

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that.

five.

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know.

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people.

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes.

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!”

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy.

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction.

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again.

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation.

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around.

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.”

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile.

Oh, I’m fucking livid.

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester.

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor.

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes.

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea.

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast.

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin.

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid.

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

“AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.”

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago.

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one.

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain.

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg.

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?”

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically.

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do.

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty.

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath.

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..”

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops.

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person.

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders.

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her.

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors.

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?”

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all.

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead.

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already.

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard.

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain.

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite.

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school.

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner.

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?”

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off.

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent.

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest.

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!”

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things.

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage.

Felix doesn’t even drink.

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out.

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically.

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice.

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously.

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively.

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water.

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now.

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain.

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you.

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head.

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate.

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing.

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice.

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended.

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear.

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall.

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned.

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically.

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately.

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning.

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?”

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever.

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while.

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic.

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all.

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow.

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call.

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend.

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home.

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labyrinthofmagicdrabbles · 4 years ago

Text

| incuratus [2/?]

‘family’

fandom: magi

pairing: ren hakuryuu x f!reader x judar

warnings: Implications of suggestive content, language! an my writing being absolute garbage per usual, please don’t cyberbully me ;_;

. . . . . .

On a beautiful morning such as the one he woke to, he would like to think that it would remain beautiful. Grow into a peaceful day; the sunlight peaking just above the horizon, pale golden light shining through the windows, the soft melody of bird's song, as well as the privilege of waking up next to two of the people who he loved most in the world, it was sure to be a good day.

Or so he had hoped.

A loud crash followed by a whine and the loud exclamation of "Shit!" had startled the prince from his tired stupor as he jolts up and, mismatched blue eyes wide and alert. He rubs them, trying to wipe the sleep out of them before looking around his room.

Frowning when he realized that the spaces next to him on the bed were unoccupied—confusing, as he was usually the one who woke up first to start the day— he rose from the bed and went to prepare himself for the day.

It didn't take him long to freshen up and get dressed, but the sound of yet another crash had him rushing out the room, down the stairs to the sound of the commotion, leading him into the kitchen where he was greeted by quite the catastrophe.

Flour covered up nearly the entirety of the kitchen, coating the floor in the white powder from top to bottom, unwashed dishes filled up the sink, a strange yellow liquid (which he hoped to Gods was oil and not what he feared it was) spilled out across the counter, and so much more that he could list, creating a huge mess that only he would be stuck cleaning.

But of course in the midst of the disastrous sight, were his two lovely partners— [Name], who was also covered in flour and who was knelt down, appearing to be sweeping something up, and Judar, who wore a messy apron with the words 'kiss the cook'—arguing loudly over something he couldn't even care to pay mind to.

Some things never change.

"How the fuck do you burn water, [Name]? Fucking water?"

"Well, I could've done the recipe correctly if you hadn't have thrown the book away, you stupid fucking magi!"

"You're so fucking—"

"Language!" Two heads snap in his direction as Hakuryuu's voice cuts in the argument sharply, giving his lovers a seething glare as he makes a small nodding gesture towards the small, dark-haired child who sat on the floor in the far corner of the kitchen, toys scattered and forgotten as he watched the scene in front of him with wide, innocent eyes.

Taking note of the boy is enough to get the two to quiet down, as they drop what they're doing and turn to face him fully, guilty looks on their faces. (Well, at least [Name] looked guilty, as opposed to Judar, who stood there with a scowl painted across his handsome face.)

"Now what on Earth is going on in here?" The former emperor of Kou placed his hands on his hips— something he only did when he knew they had caused trouble— and started expectantly, silently demanding an explanation for the state of the kitchen.

Judar, being Judar, met his stern gaze with a childish pout and crossed his arms, looking away like a child who had been caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar.

"Well, don't get mad at me," he grumbled and gestured towards [Name], who stood looking at Hakuryuu with a nervous grin spread across her lovely face. "It's her fault."

"Me?" The grin dropped from her lips and a look of fury washed over her face. "Don't try to pin this all on me! You're the one who can't follow simple directions and decided to throw the book out the window!"

"Only because you kept trying to force it down my damn throat! Who gives a shit about some stupid book!" The black-haired defended himself, a haughty look appearing on his face. "I'm a fucking magi, baby, I don't need no damn directions."

"Oh yeah? Wellbeing a 'fucking magi' doesn't seem to stop you from making stupid-ass decisions, now does it?" She snaps, "Too bad having all that hair doesn't make up for a lack of brain!"

"Hey, watch it you fucki—"

"Enough!" The tone Hakuryuu's voice takes as he raises the volume of it is enough to get the two arguing 'adults' to fall silent once more.

Stepping further into the kitchen, Hakuryuu is cautious and carefully steps over broken glass as he makes his way towards the counter, lifting the spilled bottle of oil. "One, I didn't ask whose fault it was, I simply asked what happened. And two, please refrain from using such language in front of our child."

"Really?" Judar huffs, raising a firm eyebrow. "Look who's talking! Don't act like you yourself don't use 'such language', Hakuryuu." He ends his sentence with a suggestive smirk.

A trickle of pink brushes across pale cheeks, the scarred male turning to face the magi with a deep scowl on his flustered face. "That is a completely different situation, Judar! It's different when it's just the three of us, but not in front of Hakuro!"

"Yeah, yeah," Judar gave a lazy wave as his eyes flickered over to the small boy, who had once again become preoccupied with his toys. "It's not that big of a deal. Besides, he's only a brat. It's not like he understands what those words mean anyways."

"He's three, Judar. Children that age are quite impressionable."

"You know, sometimes I forget that I'm supposed to be the mother, and you the father." [Name] gives a light giggle and places a kiss on Hakuryuu's pink cheek.

"Shut up!"

. . . . . .

True to what he had predicted, after salvaging what was left of his lovers' poor attempt at making breakfast—though, he was truly touched that they had at least tried to do it—and turning it into a delicious masterpiece as he always did, Hakuryuu had found himself stuck in the remnants of the mess they had made. As he always was.

[Name] had been the first to excuse herself from cleaning duties this time, claiming that the "stress" of doing so much 'hard work' had made her rather tired and she 'deserved' to rest since she would be dealing with a child soon—and apparently she wasn't talking about Hakuro. But before he could question her anymore on that matter, she had rushed off into their bedroom for a 'quick' nap. But of course, by quick, she meant a couple of hours.

That left Judar.

And after a long moment of silent stare-off, looking into the beautiful red eyes that belonged to his magi, his resolve unshaken, gaze piercing, all it took was a simple, wily upturn of Judar's plump lips before he broke. Sighing, he simply dismissed the magi away, of whom had let out an evil cackle before quickly flying out the window and towards his favorite peach tree, which stood in the forest a mile or two from their home.

Truthfully, he hadn't expected any different from Judar.

"Well then," After turning off the faucet to the sink, Hakuryuu turned and walked towards his son who still sat in his chair, playing with a stuffed dragon. "Let's get you cleaned up and put down for a nap with mama, hm?"

"No!" Large, [e/c] eyes stared defiantly into the surprised blue of his father's. "Roro no want to nap! Roro want to help Baba!"

"Help me?" Hakuryuu's surprised expression morphed into that of a gentle smile, his heart growing warm at Hakuro's declaration. "You wish to help Baba clean?"

"Yeah!"

"Very well," Hakuryuu lifts his son into his arms and walks over to the counter where he places him to sit before rolling up the sleeves of his hanfu. "Let's get started, shall we?"

. . . . . .

About an hour had gone by, and the combined effort of father and son had the kitchen near spotless, not a trace of the mess the earlier disaster had left. Admittedly, it was a tad bit more tiring for the former emperor, having to put extra effort into aiding Hakuro with cleaning; though the boy's enthusiasm and determination, bless his sweet little heart, to aid him in his task truly touched his heart to the point where he was nearly reduced to tears when his son had looked up at him with his large eyes and innocent smile, asking him if he did a good job.

Truly, his child was a godsend. Just what had a man like him, whose hands were so stained with sin and blood, done to deserve such a sweet child like Hakuro? He must have done something right.

A sudden crash, the sound of glass shattering had interrupted his thoughts. Then—

"Fuck!"

Hakuryuu's entire world came crashing down.

Eyes widened like saucers and mouth falling open in disbelief, Hakuryuu's turn towards his son is slow as he stares in shock at the small boy, who stood glaring at the plate he had tried to dry, now shattered into pieces on the floor.

"What—" He sure hoped he had heard incorrectly, his ears were deceiving him. Clearly, the three-year-old had not just said what he thinks he just said. "Excuse me?"

Hakuro's [e/c]- colored gaze met his. "What the matter, Baba?"

"Hakuro," Kneeling down to where he was at his son's height, Hakuryuu placed his hands on his shoulder. "What did you just say?"

"What did Roro say?" Dark locks fall over his eyes as he tilted his head, a look of confusion on his face. "Oh, Roro say Fuck!"

Hakuryuu blanched.

No. Nonononoonono—his worst fear had come true. His sweet son, the light of his life, had been corrupted! His innocence tainted, mind now ruined with the impurity of such dirty words. And it was all his fault! He had failed as a father.

Fighting back tears that threatened to form in his eyes, Hakuryuu's grip on the boy's shoulder tightens. "Hakuro, listen to me, you mustn't say that!"

"Say what?"

"Th-That word!"

"What word, Baba?"

"That word you just said!"

Silence. "...Fuck?" Hakuro blinks innocently, not understanding the reason behind his father's distress.

"Yes, that—no, stop saying that!" Hakuryuu was close to pulling his hair out.

"But why?"

"Because..." His mind was in shambles, far too clouded with grief for his brain to process any words correctly. "Because it's not a good word!"

"But Mama and Baba Ju say 'Fuck' all time!"

"Yes, well, they shouldn't be saying it either!" Hakuryuu cried, unable to stop a few tears from falling. "Listen Hakuro, that is a very inappropriate thing for a child to say! Just please, don't say that word again. Don't be a bad boy."

Large (e/c) eyes grow wide as they begin to moisten with tears, and the boy's lips tremble. "I-I no mean to be bad boy, Baba!" He sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists as he began crying.

Instantly, guilt blooms in Hakuryuu's chest, and he mentally scolds himself for making his son upset. If there was one thing he knew his child inherited from him—it was his sensitivity. (Though to be fair, Hakuryuu didn't think he was nearly as sensitive as he used to be. He was a grown man now, he had changed a lot!)

Pulling the boy in his arms, Hakuryuu rocked him gently, trying to hush his cries. "Shh, Hakuro, please don't cry," he strokes his son's dark hair. "You're not a bad boy at all, you're a good boy! Baba was just being silly." Though in reality, he personally felt his worries weren't all that silly, as any parent wouldn't want to hear their young child use any foul words, but he did not like seeing his son upset.

The boy's sobs quiet down, and he pulled away from his father's chest, looking at him through large, teary eyes. "Really? Roro good boy again?"

Hakuryuu smiles gently. "Of course."

When all was settled, his son finally calmed down and returned to his normal, cheerful self Hakuryuu set him down and sent him off to go play. As he finished off putting the dishes away, he couldn't help but ponder, perhaps he was overreacting? It wasn't like his son was a bad child— he was mostly well-behaved, and radiated that natural curiosity and cheerful attitude most toddlers had. Perhaps he wasn't giving him enough credit? After all, he was only three. Like Judar had said, it wasn't as if he knew what that word meant.

Did he really have anything to worry about?

He watched as Hakuro played with a stuffed dragon his aunt Kougyoku had given him, innocently babbling and giggling to himself as he made the toy fly. It was as if the earlier issue hadn't even occurred, gone and far out his mind as he played in his own, blissful little world.

Pale lips form a smile. No, he didn't have to worry about anything— as long as his son grew up in a loving, happy home and raised to be a good man, he would be fine.

Nothing to worry about.

But then, the sound of the front door slamming open suddenly echoed, as an all to familiar voice rang out.

"Hey, why the fuck is it so quiet in here?"

Except for that.

. . . . .

#it's trash i know dont be mean #magi x reader #hakuryuu x reader #hakuryuu ren x reader #ren hakuryuu x reader #judar x reader #hakuryuu x reader x judar

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know-the-way · 5 years ago

Note

(1/?) Talking about their fire scene.. I have seen interpretations about it being an abuse of authority from Faustus, and that he manipulated her to sleep with him. It is an interpretation and a valid one, I totally respect it. But me, personally, I have an entirely different take on that one. I actually thought it was their most genuine/spontaneous interaction. Which is a lot, considering their relationship was about how they could manipulate the other, in order to do what they wanted (while

(2/?) having an unspoken history and intense sexual desire for the other. Like, that night Faustus was in the house to talk (manipulate) Ambrose into uplifting his sentence and all that. When Faustus arrives to the Spellman’s house he doesn’t flirt with her even barely says hi. Same when she catched him in the door, he was leaving, that day he wasn’t there to see her. So everything that came afterwards wasn’t planned or calculated, uncharted territory, so to speak. True, when she ambushes him in

(3/?) the door she leans towards him in an extra close manner (which makes him to do the literal combination of this faces:🤨😏), but actually she wasn’t flirting with him at that moment, she was trying that no one in the house heard. It was clear she truly wanted to relieve her spiritual crisis. Since the begging of the show we saw that she was interested in rekindling the relationship, but she actually wasn’t aming to do that on that moment. Then, during the beginning of the confession, he

(4/?) doesn’t even look at her, and as the confession progresses, he starts to lean towards her and it can be seen how he strokes her hand somehow affectionately. And they get intimate, not physically (that one came later) but like they shared their weakness and problems with each other (sure, Faustus’ where stupid AF, but it seemed he truly was meaning what he was sharing with her). Moreover, he kinda comforted her when he said that the DL accepted weakness etc, look at her face: she wasn’t

(5/?) expecting that empathy from a/her high priest. I am sorry of this was a long af rant, but, as someone said, quarantine is not good for a shippers brain. I think that this was the literal best spellwood scene, it showed their complexity, a lot of chemestry, a glimpse into their story and emotional intimacy. That scene and that kiss are, character and story wise, winners. I can’t believe what the writers did to them afterwards. I would love to hear what do you think :)

Your question is the one I have specifically been building up my energy for, so I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, but I wanted to address it properly and with equal care to what you put into it.

First things first - I agree so hard with your analysis and that it probably was the most genuine and raw emotional exchange we saw between them the entirety of part 1.

HOWEVER, I do think there was still mutual manipulation happening in that scene. I think the scene culminated in a moment they mutually wanted at that point (and that they both saw coming from the near start of the conversation), but the dance they performed to get there wasn’t without one or another’s guiding hand at any given time.

Do I think Zelda asked for private confession only to be intimate with Faustus? No, I don’t. I think she truly did want to relieve herself of her sins and ensure she/her family still had security within the coven. But I think once the opportunity unfolded as he explained the challenge to his faith from Constance rigging the Feast of Feasts (a tradition he stated, while under the powers of Hilda’s truth cake, was divine instruction from the Dark Lord himself to reinstate), Zelda didn’t stop what she (perceivably) saw coming.

So I can only take his solemn re-telling of that event (“a challenge to my faith after my wife’s transgression”) to be genuine. Because, thanks to Sabrina’s influence, he nearly cancelled the Feast of Feasts altogether, even though - again - the truth cake had him swearing it was the Dark Lord’s will. So he nearly committed heresy, as a high priest under the impression that his faith in the Dark Lord was not as strong as Sabrina’s logic to end it. Which originated from Constance’s interference in the ritual.

But then Mildred, ya know... did the thing and proved to Faustus that the Dark Lord would always find a way. And he very nearly offended the Dark Lord greatly.

So I think when he expresses the fear he felt to Zelda, it was a genuine effort to relate to her and reassure her. And - in my interpretation - at the same Zelda realizes the conversation has become more intimate than anticipated (she now has a secret about the high priest’s insecurity), he lets slip that he’s also not getting sex from his wife.

And oh bitch, shit gets real. Again - my interpretation only here - yes, he is actively trying to manipulate Zelda into sleeping with him at that point. And he is absolutely using his “allure” as high priest (abusing his power) in the process, but I think Zelda is FULLY aware that’s what he’s doing. She is far too observant and far too intelligent to not see right through him. I personally cannot see her as unassuming prey in this situation because of how she claps her hand over his and says “No” as in “ya don’t say” about Constance refusing him in bed and leans into him with beseeching eyes like “Okay you bastard, now’s the time... enough with the bloody speech mate, we get it, we ALL get it, just get on with it.”

So I don’t think she has ANY sympathy when she whispers “Faustus” and he crumbles to his knees. I think she was just saying “green light, I would like passionate emo sex, too, and I know you’re more than capable, plus I see this as a great opportunity for me rise in the ranks of the coven, so let’s carry on, shall we?”

The bonus comes from their (at that point, unconfirmed) history together. The kiss is tentative at the first taste, but then it’s like they both remember they’ve kissed each like this before. And that it meant something once. He pulls her up tight to him, she rests a hand on his shoulder, and he breaks away to look over her face, both breathless. And the kicker, the absolute CHOICE of Richard/Miranda/whoever directed that episode to have him gently hold her face while looking at her adoringly for half a second while she hooks her hand over his forearm... that said everything it needed to.

In summary, my opinion - that scene alone displayed the complex dynamic between Sister Zelda and the high priest who both respect their faith, the power it gives them, and the Dark Lord. Zelda Spellman and Faustus Blackwood who have known each for decades upon decades and can anticipate each other’s next move with amused certainty. And finally Zelda and Faustus, who - in all their years of playing games - have never been able to quite figure out or explain the very peculiar attachment they have to one another.

It’s frustratingly saturated with subtext and I LOVE it so much.

Now. Does the fact that they were both playing some emotional games make it okay/healthy/acceptable/etc? No, of course not. They are very much still using each other here and Faustus, in a position of power, holds more responsibility for it certainly.

But I just personally feel there were more layers to the scene than that.

(I started to run out of energy towards the end, so I’m sorry if I stop making sense half-way through, but thank you for your question! It was a pleasure to dissect that scene with your interpretation to guide me. xx)

#spellwood #faustus blackwood #zelda spellman #caos #for those who don’t understand

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aquamarineicecream · 5 years ago

Text

Rewind Sanders Sides Superhero AU - Chapter 4

Ao3 Link

>Chapter 1

>Chapter 5

Logan regretted it.

He regretted everything that had led to that unimaginable moment. The shock was slowly subsiding and giving way to a much deeper emotion. Anger flooded through him, mingling with the grief to form a near deadly combination. The pain crept in, not unlike tomorrow creeping in this petty pace from day to day. Logan loathed his ability to effortlessly recall the iconic line from Macbeth’s Act V, Scene 5 soliloquy much like he currently loathed the man responsible for talking passionately about Shakespeare's dramas so frequently that the knowledge in its entirety had long ago become instilled in his head. The same man who was also at fault for the destruction of one of his most prized possessions. The man who was now looking at him with the innocence of a puppy, yet with the notorious mischief of a raccoon lying just underneath the surface. Roman.

It all started the day after Deceit’s suggestion to train Virgil. The team decided it was best not to waste any time and instead to begin the training after a small, slightly rushed breakfast cooked by none other than Logan himself, who'd been taking cooking lessons for the past month and was more than happy to put his new skill to use.

“Okay kiddo, so I talked it over with Logan before you got up and we figured it would be best to start the training on the roof. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure. But I really don't think this'll work. I've been trying for the last five years to control this thing but I've found it's pretty pointless.”

“Oh cheer up and don't be such a Negative Nancy! We'll have your powers shipshape and Bristol fashion in no time.”

“I'll take your word for that,” Virgil mumbled into his pancakes, avoiding Roman's overly optimistic gaze as though worried it was contagious. Logan had observed much about Virgil Messana in the past day alone. As one of the top intelligence workers in the Superiors’ organization and the soon-to-be head chairman of the entire intelligence sector of the association if he played his cards right, Logan had already created a mental list detailing Messana’s habits and ticks, down to the way he tugged his worn hoodie sleeves further over his hands every time he got particularly anxious.

Quite frankly, Virgil Messana fascinated him. He knew every detail about the man’s file, yet the man himself was slowly proving to be quite the enigma. He was rather quiet at times but he always was able to come up with a snarky response if needed which appeared to be having some effect on Roman. They'd begun to have quite the rapport and even Logan, despite all his oblivious glory, was able to sense underlying tension every time Virgil was near Roman.

“Lo, everything a-okay?” A gentle voice interrupted Logan's thoughts and he abruptly realized that for the past minute, his unfocused gaze had been fixated on the chair where Patton had previously been seated.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I'm alright. I merely became momentarily lost in thought, that's all,” Logan was quick to reply as the world shifted back into focus and he became vividly aware of the fact that he and Patton were the only two left at the table.

“Okey dokey. If you're sure you're okay, then we can head out.” Patton's voice was warm and grounding, as Logan had discovered it so often was. It was comforting, and refreshing even, when put into context with the cold reality they all called normalcy.

“We should join the others,” Logan agreed with a nod. He stood and picked up his mug to bring it with him, ignorant, as always, to Patton's gaze lingering on his retreating figure as the young hero began to lead the way up the stairs.

“What a beautiful day to blow stuff up!”

Roman’s enthusiastic remark was met with a disapproving look from Logan.

“What? I’m just trying to lighten the mood a little. It’s too early to look so serious,” the larger man protested. Logan merely crossed his arms and turned away to look at Virgil, electing not to dignify Roman with a response.

“Alright, Virgil. It’s time to begin. Please hold this and stand a small ways back.” Logan handed Virgil a small beanbag and waited for the other man to take a few steps back before picking up a notebook and pen he’d left on a small table he’d set up earlier that morning. Patton had arrived by now and was standing alongside Deceit and Roman, all three a safe distance away from their new recruit. Logan and Deceit had spoken last night and decided on how they were going to conduct the experiments. He nodded at Deceit to ready the stopwatch before speaking again. “On my count, I would like you to attempt to explode the item you’re currently in possession of. Ready?” It was evident to all of them that the young soon-to-be-hero was far from ‘ready’ based on his trembling hands alone, but Virgil gave a small nod, allowing Logan to proceed with his plan. “Three… two… one… now.”

The team watched with bated breath as Virgil closed his eyes. Logan had a tight grip on his pen which was poised over the paper, ready to scribble down notes and observations at a moment's notice. They watched on as…nothing happened.

It was the epitome of underwhelming. Logan made sure to write a note of how Virgil’s entire body, not just his hands, was trembling now as the young man opened his eyes, the disappointment in himself evident.

“Maybe you just need to hold it a little longer?” Patton suggested hesitantly. Virgil set down the beanbag without meeting the other man’s gaze.

“That won’t make any difference. I told you all this was pointless,” Virgil replied darkly, haunted by his many failed attempts from the last five years.

“Aw, kiddo, you can’t give up already! It took me a while with my powers too, but I’m sure you’ll get it sooner or later.”

“I guess…” Virgil picked up the beanbag with a sigh and studied it for a moment before closing his eyes to concentrate again.

“Alright.” Logan readied his pen once more. “Begin your second attempt.”

~~~~~

The sun was beating down, making the day uncomfortably warm. Uncomfortable also happened to be the optimal word to describe the tension the group shared at the moment. It had been hours of trial after trial yet no matter how many times Logan instructed Virgil to attempt to corrode and subsequently explode the item in his hands, failure appeared to be inevitable.

By now, their efforts had become both more tired and desperate. Logan had suggested Virgil try holding different objects since the beanbag remained unaffected by Virgil’s powers. These objects included but were not limited to: Virgil’s old pair of gloves, a sponge, an umbrella, an engraved gold pocket watch (given to Virgil by Roman after the latter stole it from Deceit), a handful of playbills (given to Virgil by Deceit as his revenge on Roman), a Rubix Cube (as Roman’s attempt to pull Logan into Deceit’s and his mini war), and lastly, a package of Oreos. No one was quite sure why Roman chose the last one, yet none had time to question it since Virgil refused to even attempt to corrode and explode it, saying he was insulted by the very notion of being told to destroy his favorite cookie.

However, the process of experimenting with different objects had ended almost an hour ago and their spirits were once again low. Logan’s notebook now contained multiple pages detailing the distinct ways in which Virgil held each object, hands still shaking each time he concentrated regardless of how many times they had already gone through this process.

“I believe that we should all take a respite. It would appear that one is far overdue.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, Lo. A small break sounds like just the ticket.” Patton turned to Virgil. “How about we go get you something to eat for lunch, kiddo?”

Logan closed his notebook as Virgil set down the beanbag in the pile of other unsuccessful, now-neglected objects before following Patton to the kitchen.

“Maybe we should try another remote. That could be his specialty,” Roman joked while walking over to Deceit and Logan.

“Don’t be foolish, Roman. We already know his powers have worked on other materials in the past. There must be some minute element to this that we’re missing.” Logan handed his notebook to Deceit for the other man to look through.

“In all seriousness, what do you two make of Virgil?” Deceit asked without looking up from the page he was reading.

“He’s a good guy deep down. I know it. But our stupid Superiors are keeping stuff from us, I’m sure of that. And it wouldn’t be the first time either. They’re always up to something.”

“Relax, Roman. You know better than to speak ill of our employers. You’re beginning to sound like Deceit with his constant suspicions.”

“I’m only saying that we shouldn’t keep trusting them so much when we never know if the next legislation they pass will stop us from even seeing each other.” Roman crossed his arms. “And you’re only happy with them because you’re their golden boy who’s one successful mission away from becoming their new Head of Intelligence and leaving the rest of us to try and deal with whoever they choose as your replacement.”

“There is no cause for you to be upset over this. My replacement will most likely be Virgil at this rate, which is fortunate for you considering the fact that ever since he was kept alive, you’ve appeared to be happier than you have acted in quite some time. But either way, nothing is for certain yet, especially because they might not even choose for me to retire from being ‘Logic’ and take the mantle and responsibilities of the new position instead.”

“Logan, we all know that you’ll get the promotion. All I ask is that you consider looking closely into the reason the position is vacant in the first place.” Deceit spoke calmly as he looked up from the notes before closing the notebook and handing it back to Logan.

“It’s shady,” Roman added to break the silence that had begun to fill the space. “And you should also keep in mind that not all of us started here by choice, so you never know what you’re gonna have to deal with in a spot that high up.”

Logan had no response as both his and Roman’s thoughts drifted to what Patton had confided in the others precisely two years and 314 days ago. Their momentary distraction allowed Deceit a chance to force the pained expression from his face without either of the other men noticing it was ever even there at all. It seemed that his return to a neutral expression had come just in time too, as at that moment, Patton and Virgil walked back onto the roof, each carrying plates of snacks to share with the others. They set them down on the table and Virgil grabbed a couple chips before retreating to a deserted corner. Roman ate a pretzel before immediately going after him.

“Hey, Messana.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“So, you liking your second day so far?”

“You mean, am I enjoying disappointing you guys and making a complete fool of myself? Meh, it’s just another day for me.” Virgil shrugged as Roman rolled his eyes in response.

“You’re hardly disappointing, my Chemically Imbalanced Romance. You just need to keep practicing and I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“I guess,” Virgil replied doubtfully.

“C’mon, I’ll prove it to you. All you need is to try a little thing called trial-by-fire. Though I guess in your case, it’s trial-by-matchstick since it’s not exactly a life and death thing.” Roman led the way over to the table and Virgil hesitantly followed, curious to see what Roman had in mind. Roman’s back was facing Virgil so the smaller man didn’t notice as Roman grabbed the first object on the table, without stopping to check what it was, and flung it at Virgil while shouting “catch!”

“Roman!”

Virgil fumbled to catch the object but it slipped through his hands and Logan looked on in horror as his prized TARDIS-shaped mug smashed on the concrete.

“Roman!!”

It was Logan, not Virgil, who shouted this time. The educated man had a look of murder on his usually inexpressive face as he stormed over to Roman and Virgil.

“What were you thinking?! You can’t simply surprise someone by flinging easily breakable mugs at them! Especially when the mug isn’t even your own,” Logan fumed.

“I’m sorry, Specs. I didn’t realize it was that. But it’s just a mug and I can get you a new one online,” Roman offered apologetically.

“You should have stopped to consider your actions before proceeding with them. And I would not like to receive a new mug from you, I can purchase a new one myself. But it is the principle of the matter! You always do actions such as these, including on our missions when you hurl yourself into combat and potentially dangerous situations with a complete lack of forethought and without having paused to either listen or contribute to the plan. You’re impossible! And another thing -” Logan paused momentarily from his tirade to adjust his glasses and take a breath but Deceit shushed him before the other man had the chance to finish his sentence. Logan, in turn, turned his deadly glare on Deceit, silently imploring him to have a justified explanation for the interruption.

“Everyone be quiet and listen,” was the only response Deceit gave. They all held their breath while listening attentively. Patton was the first of the others to notice the faint pounding coming from downstairs.

“Someone’s here.”

The alarm in his tone was evident and in mere seconds he was racing down the stairs with his coworkers on his heels and Virgil, slightly unsure of what to do, bringing up the rear. Once the group reached the living room, it became evident that the noise was due to someone banging on their front door. Patton, being the nicest of them, walked over to answer it, leaving the rest in suspense. Logan shared an uneasy look with Deceit, both men hoping the person at the door was a civilian who’d gotten lost instead of who both men had a sneaking suspicion the unidentified visitor truly was.

“Of course you can come in, sir.” Patton’s cheerful voice carried into the room and Logan’s heart sunk with the knowledge that his guess at the mystery person’s identity was all but confirmed to be who he worried it was.

“Wait in here for a sec, please,” Patton said, leaving the person by the door before rushing back into the room where the others were.

“A representative is here. He’s come for Virgil,” Patton explained in a hushed tone.

“We can’t let them take him!” Roman whispered in reply.

“We won’t. I’ll talk with them to try and come to a reasonable resolution. Logan, Patton, it would be best if you join me.”

“I’m coming too. If we’re gonna give a case for Messana to stay here then I want to help.”

“No. You’re not diplomatic enough so it’s better if you stay here and keep him out of sight.”

“But that’s not fair. I should be able to help just as much as the rest of you do, Snakey McSnakerson,” Roman argued while crossing his arms defensively.

“You know, Ro, your never-ending nicknames don’t exactly help your case.”

“Fine.” Roman gave a slightly exasperated sigh before motioning for Virgil to start walking down the hall that led to their bedrooms.

“Wait, Roman,” Logan went after him as the others left to go speak with the representative. “I apologize for allowing my temper to get the best of me earlier. It was childish and unprofessional and I quite hope that you’re willing to forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about it, Calculator Watch. You’re already forgiven. But are you sure you don’t want me to get you a new Doctor Who mug?”

“I am certain of it, Roman. However, thank you anyways for the offer.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“About the conversation I’m about to partake in, I am sorry that you can’t join us but it’s for the best. Deceit has proven in the past that he often has an overarching plan, so it’s better that we trust his decisions to be logical.”

“I guess…”

“You shouldn’t concern yourself about the matter. Currently, your main priority is to assure that Virgil does not dwell too much on the setbacks of today nor that he worries an excessive amount about the meeting at hand. I have a working theory that I’ll explain to you later regarding his powers in relation to his emotions but for now, attempt to keep him calm so that we may ensure no inopportune mishaps occur whilst our visitor is present.”

“Okay, you got it. I know exactly how to deal with our resident emo.” Roman gave the other man a reassuring grin and turned to go the same way as before, hearing Logan muttering a doubtful “I’m sure” under his breath as Roman made his way to Virgil’s temporary room.

Roman walked into the practically bare guest room, unsurprised to see Virgil awkwardly perched on the edge of one of the only pieces of furniture in the small room. Roman sat next to him, midnight blue eyes a striking contrast to the drab gray sheets of the twin-sized bed. In fact, everything about Roman looked out of place compared to his surroundings, from his auburn hair to his bright red and white bomber jacket covering both his fitted black shirt and toned muscles, which Virgil was now realizing he was having a weirdly strong urge to keep admiring. He despised that urge much like he hated how seeing Roman this close and in a casual outfit instead of his uniform. It felt so commonplace when it should be feeling foreign considering this man was still a stranger to him.

“There’s nothing to do in here so do you wanna go to my room instead?” Roman offered, interrupting the other man’s thoughts. Virgil stared at him without responding. “It has a TV,” he added with a disarming grin.

“Alright, I’m sold. Let’s go.”

With that, Roman stood up and led Virgil down the hall to the furthest room from the one they’d just left. Roman flopped back on his bed while Virgil entered. The room was accentuated with as much red and gold as possible, falling just short of appearing cluttered. Roman’s room had an assortment of both poster sized and polaroid photographs showcasing deserted beaches and sunsets peeking through from behind snowy mountain landscapes, which covered the starch white walls. There was a distinct vintage feel to the decor, yet it lacked the element that made it feel lived-in. Instead, it was closer to one of those display rooms one sees in department stores; perfect at a glance, but disguising an empty feeling underneath.

The only indications of life there were a red and black acoustic guitar propped up in the corner furthest from the door and the man currently sitting up in order to start flipping through channels. Roman watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil took in the new surroundings.

“Do you like the photos?”

“Yeah. Surprisingly, they’re pretty cool.”

“Thanks. I took them myself.” Roman continued looking through channels for a minute longer before giving up.

“Nothing good is on so I’m gonna look for something on Netflix.” Virgil sat down next to him as Roman opened the streaming service only to have it crash moments later, causing Roman to groan in frustration.

“Oh, come on! You’d think being a world-renowned superhero would at least warrant having fast enough internet to let us watch a movie!” Roman tried opening it again in hopes that it would load but his attempt was in vain. “This stupid thing won’t work.” He tossed down the remote and crossed his arms, appearing bothered by the device yet in truth, it was for another reason. “First, I’m not even considered to have another chance to help and defend you and now this thing refuses to work!”

“Well none of you should be talking for me. I don’t need some kind of knight in shining armor. I can take care of myself.” Virgil paused to narrow his eyes suspiciously. “And what do you mean ‘another chance’?” Virgil’s distrusting gaze landed on Roman who looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment before quickly racking his brain for an answer.

“That’s classified.”

“Seriously?”

“…yeah.”

“Alright then.” Virgil examined Roman for a moment before adding, “If everything’s gonna be classified and we can’t watch anything, then I’m going back to the guest room.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you. But for the record, I know what you’re doing, Count Woe-laf, and it totally didn’t work. I’m just nice and enjoy breaking rules. But anyways, what I was talking about was that I wasn’t exactly on board with the whole ‘Let’s Kill Messana’ party but following orders is part of my job so I couldn’t really protest.” Roman looked down to study his crimson comforter which he decided had just become the most interesting object in the whole universe. He was sure Virgil suspected there was more behind Roman’s original comment that he was holding back but he didn’t press for details. Virgil stayed quiet while watching Roman for a moment before speaking again.

“Can I ask you a question? How did you start working like this? And why do you guys sometimes act like you know each other and other times act like total strangers?”

“That’s more than one question,” Roman joked in an attempt to lighten the mood to which Virgil rolled his eyes. “I started when I was recruited when I was 19. I was working with a partner at the time and doing jobs for hire when some people saw me use my powers, I guess. I got an anonymous message giving me a time, date, and location so I went to see what it was all about. I met a guy there who told me he wanted to recruit me for a program they were setting up for people who were ‘special’.” Roman paused at the memory, guilt plaguing his features for a brief moment before he hastened to finish the story.

“I took him up on the offer, they trained me, and now, here I am,” he said, giving Virgil a forced smile.

“Oh…what about your partner? Are you still close?”

“He was like a brother to me. But no, we don’t talk too much ever since I left three years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil offered after a short, unbearable silence.

“Don’t be.” Roman gave Virgil a smile in reassurance that he hoped appeared more sincere than his last one.

“So...you were recruited like one of the Avengers?”

“Think more like the Justice League, though all those comic book heroes don’t have anything on the real thing. But pretty much how it works is that we’ve all got our own places to protect, like how Batman has Gotham, but we team up for certain high profile missions. This place is where we stay when we're doing those missions so it's pretty much our version of the Watchtower. And, to answer your question from earlier too, we only know bits and pieces about each other and our pasts. Our Superiors give us information on a need-to-know basis, so all we’ve got to go on when it comes to each other is whatever they decide to tell us or we want to share with the rest of the team. For example, none of us knew each other’s secret identities for almost a year. And we still don’t know Deceit’s name. Or pretty much anything about him.” Roman turned so he was directly facing Virgil before speaking again. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

“Alright fine. Ask away.”

“Is your favorite song ‘The Black Parade?’” His eyes had a mischievous glint that perfectly complemented his teasing grin. Virgil only glared at him in reply. “What? You look emo enough,” Roman added, feigning innocence.

“You know what? I’m not even gonna answer that. I’m pretty sure if I did, it would only encourage you, which is literally the last thing I want.”

“You’re no fun, Marilyn Morose.”

“Wow, another nickname. So original,” Virgil retorted sarcastically. “Besides, you can’t judge me when your favorite song is probably something from a cheesy, overrated musical.”

“Excuse you, my favorite song is not even close to that, actually. It’s ‘La Canción’ by J Balvin and Bad Bunny.”

“I’m sorry- Bad what?”

“Bad Bunny. You know I gotta support my fellow Puerto Rican.”

“What kind of name is Bad Bunny?”

“Shhh. Don’t question it.”

“Alright fine Princey, I’ll admit it. I wasn’t expecting that at all.”

“Well, I’ve got a good memory associated with that song,” Roman explained with a shrug. “It’s a pretty good song too.”

“In that case, you’ve gotta play it for me sometime.”

“Okay, I will,” Roman agreed with a smile. Before either could say anything else, they heard shouting coming from the kitchen, interrupting any chance they could have had to continue their conversation.

“We should go see what’s wrong.”

“Wait, but I’m supposed to keep you here and away from the representative.”

“Technically yeah, you are supposed to do that. But don’t you wanna go with me to see what’s happening?” Virgil asked while standing up.

“You know I do. We gotta make sure no one catches us over there. I’m sure we’ll be fine though, so let’s go.” Roman stood and walked into the hallway, being as quiet as possible as he and Virgil made their way to the source of the ruckus.

“-we will not hesitate to remove him from your custody by force if necessary.”

“If you want him you’ll have to go through me!”

“That can be arranged,” the stranger’s voice snapped coldly.

“If you insult Patton one more time, I can personally assure you that you will be leaving this building both without a job and possibly with a stronger understanding of the importance of self-preservation considering that I will make you regret ever setting foot in here,” Logan threatened, immediately jumping to the sweeter man’s defense.

Roman noticed Virgil's visible surprise at hearing Logan speak in such an emotional manner twice in one day, especially considering that this time was much more passionate than the first.

“They have a kind of thing going on between them. It's complicated,” Roman whispered to Virgil to serve as an explanation before staying quiet so they could eavesdrop once more.

“Calm down boys,” Deceit, ever the negotiator, said in a placating tone. “I swear to you that we’ll uphold our end of the bargain as long as you stand by yours.”

“I still say this whole deal is ridiculous.”

“Maybe it is, but keep in mind that you were the one who set the terms for our compromise. Terms that we’re going out of our way to agree to.”

“Fine. I’ll be sending someone in a month to verify that you’ve made the progress you assured me you will. I hope we won’t have the misfortune of seeing each other again.”

“The sentiment is mutual,” Logan fired back.

Roman and Virgil moved from their hiding place in time to see the scathing glare the representative gave the three other men in the room before he turned on his heel and stormed out the front door. They, in turn, rushed into the kitchen the moment they heard Deceit close the door after him.

“What happened? Are they coming back for Virgil?”

“Calm down, Roman,” Deceit said in a soothing tone. “We have until December 2nd to train our new friend. That’s when another representative will come back to check up on us. If we fail, they’ll take him to train him using their own methods.” Seeing the clear worry on Roman’s face, he quickly added, “But that’s a month away. Everything will be fine by then.” Deceit’s reassuring smile was just as false as his reassurances, but Roman didn’t want to question it. The two continued talking about ways to speed up the training, with Virgil giving occasional commentary, while Logan and Patton walked back into the living room.

“Are you alright? In regards to your emotions, I mean.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, Lo.” Patton sighed heavily as he sat on the couch. “You didn’t have to defend me back there.”

“It was only right of me to do so.” Logan sat next to him, stiff posture relaxing slightly, the way it only ever did when he was alone with Patton. “You make a conscientious decision to act as kind as you possibly can to every individual you meet in spite of your upbringing and the events you have lived through which have all figuratively shaped you to become the amiable and considerate person you are now. I possess a profound respect for you for that and you should not have to tolerate sitting by and listening to your good-natured personality be slandered in such an unjust fashion.”

“Thanks, Logan. That’s nice of you to say. I should be asking if you are okay, though. We never got a chance to talk after the whole thing that happened on the roof.”

“Oh, that. I must implore you to consider moving past my immature actions from earlier. I shouldn’t have reacted in such a rash manner to the situation and quite frankly, am ashamed and embarrassed by the part I played in the ordeal.”

“Logan, it’s alright to show your emotions more than just once in a blue moon. It’s not healthy to bottle all these tricky feelings up all the time and only let them out in bursts when you can’t help it. You don’t have to try and deal with it on your own so no one will think any less of you if you need help sometimes.”

“I appreciate your concern, Patton, but please do not take offense to the fact that I am going to continue managing things the way I always have.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But just remember I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I was wondering though, why did you get so upset about the mug? I get that it’s your favorite one, but you can replace it, right?” Despite Patton’s expression remaining as gentle as ever, Logan lowered his head to avoid the other man’s gaze, his own expression quickly becoming clouded with a look resembling shame.

“I am very much aware of how juvenile it is for me to have attachments to inanimate objects, yet, despite my best efforts, it would appear that I unintentionally allowed myself to mentally form an emotional connection to that particular mug.” Logan quickly adjusted his glasses to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts just as Patton’s gloved hand gently cupped to Logan’s face and tilted it up so they could look each other in the eyes. Patton looked silently into Logan’s eyes for a second before speaking quietly, unaware that Logan’s mind had completely blanked of all thought the second Patton had touched him.

“You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to.” He lowered his hand. “I don’t want you to be pressured, Lo.”

“No - I mean, that’s alright. I want to tell you, Patton. If only based on the fact that at the very least I owe an explanation for my unconventional behavior.” He glanced down in an effort to hide any residual hesitance in his emerald green eyes, before meeting Patton’s gaze once more.

“I cared so deeply about it because that mug was the first thing I was ever able to purchase with my own money that was not an absolute necessity. I purchased it when I was only eighteen years old, a few months after I had been forcefully instructed to leave my aunt’s house for being too much of a burden ever since I had no choice but to move in with her. The mug was symbolic of a milestone for me, I suppose. It was physical proof that I truly was free and no longer had to rely on her for anything thanks to my new job working in intelligence for our Superiors, even before I discovered my powers. Furthermore, that mug was the first thing of mine, ever since I moved in with her, that I could own without being worried what repercussions might occur due to it being an object designed to represent one of my favorite television programs.”

“Wow, I had no idea it meant so much to you.”

“I’m sure you think I’m rather foolish now, though.”

“What? No way! Tons of people have stuff they associate with a memory or feeling. That doesn’t mean you should think you’re silly for having those feelings, Lo.”

“Well, thank you for listening. However, I regret taking so much of your time.”

“Don’t worry about that. I like spending time with you.” Patton’s smile was infectious, causing a hint of a smile to grace Logan’s features before he schooled his expression back to the emotionless one he usually had.

“We should go discuss Virgil’s training with the others. Who knows what eccentric ideas they may have come up with while we were gone?”

“Good point.”

The two stood and made their way back into the kitchen, rejoining the rest of the group, anxious for a solution to controlling Virgil’s powers.

~~~~~

In what felt like no time at all, December 2nd arrived and they had yet to find a solution. Virgil had been training for hours every day, but so far the only times he’d successfully managed to blow something up had been unintentional. Now, as they sat around the kitchen table in palpable tension, they restlessly awaited the foreboding knocks that were bound to mark the arrival of the representative.

“Kiddos, I know today’s a big day, but you should eat up as much as you can. We’d hate to host a guest on an empty stomach.” Patton attempted a calming smile, yet it fell short of reaching his eyes.

“I don’t think any of us can eat anything today, padre,” Roman replied, noting how Patton too had been pushing his food around on his plate for the past five minutes.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed, worry leaking into his expression for a moment before he quickly smiled again to save face. Patton turned to Logan. “Lo, can you come with me to the kitchen to help me get a serving dish I left there?”

“Of course.”

“Great!” Patton said cheerfully and led the other man to the kitchen.

“I wasn’t aware that there was still a dish remaining. I was under the impression we had already brought all of them to the table but it appears I must have been mistaken,” Logan said as they arrived.

“Actually, you’re right. We already took all the food for the others over there. But the thing is, I needed an excuse to get you to come here so we could be alone,” Patton admitted sheepishly as he took off his gloves which had previously had syrup spilled on them. He quickly began to wash his hands as both as excuse to get the remaining syrup off his wrist and to avoid Logan’s perplexed stare,

“Patton, if you needed to talk to me about a private matter, you are aware that you could have simply said that from the start and I would have come, right?” Logan leaned back against the counter as he spoke, a touch of amusement and curiosity in his tone.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just that I know you don’t like showing any feelings in front of the others.” Patton dried his hands and kept his back to Logan as he opened the cabinet in front of himself, making sure Logan couldn’t see what he was now holding with the utmost care. “Plus I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” he added, barely able to contain his excitement.

“What? Patton I’m afraid that you have - metaphorically - lost me.”

“Well, you told me how much your TARDIS mug meant to you, and I know it’s been a month but I can tell it’s still bothering you a bit and on top of that there’s all the nerves of today, so…” Patton trailed off as he turned around with a small smile, a Baymax mug cradled in his hands. “I made this for you. I remembered when you were telling me all about how much you like the message and symbolism in Big Hero Six, so I really hope you like this.”

“Patton - “ Logan cut himself off before his voice betrayed how overcome with emotion he truly was. “I can’t believe you actually listened and remember what I told you months ago. And,” he paused to quickly adjust his glasses in an attempt to distract himself from his slightly watering eyes, “thank you so much for taking the time to make this. It’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“It was no trouble at all, Lo,” Patton replied, beaming. He turned the round, white mug in his hands so the front decorated with the two black dots and line between them representing Baymax’s eyes along with the small gray circle located close to the mug’s base and hand painted to mirror where Baymax’s ID chips could be inserted was facing away from Logan. Instead, Patton showed the other man where he had painted the feeling chart Baymax used in the movie.

“Now with this you can ‘rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10’ without having to try and find the right words to talk about all those icky emotions. And if you’re ever feeling down and wanna talk about it without interrupting the others, you can just look at me and point to however you’re feeling so we can go get a quiet space to figure everything out. Just know you can always come to me.” Patton smiled, the same way that always made Logan feel a strange warm and tingling sensation in his chest.

“This means a great deal to me.” Logan felt a small smile tugging at his lips and for once, he allowed himself to experience the fleeting blissful feeling. Logan didn’t hesitate to reach out to take his new mug from Patton so that he could admire it further, taking Patton by surprise and rendering him unable to set down the mug fast enough. Logan, still distracted, had yet to realize his mistake. The moment their skin touched, it was too late.

Logan’s body hit the floor with a thud.

Next Chapter>>

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@milomeepit , @captainhadeslover , @yep-another-fander , @pattson , @lala-the-rebel , @artistictaurean , @ironwoman359 , @ab-artist , @wicked-rosie , @starsinger , @superarrowholockian , @shapoodle , @virgil-the-virgin , @fun-with-colors , @theloveliestsweetspongy , @anastasialestina , @inferablossom , @confused-pat , @midnighteclipse98 , @silversmith-91 , @pattons-second-cookie , @harboring-hatred , @creativenostalgiastuff , @sadb0tt , @today-only-happens-once , @thelogicalloganipus , @the-shark-boi , @mantha-has-fallen , @averaillisa , @emochechirecat , @camillenicole , @thedukeofdeodorant-main , @time-out-for-thee , @sandersstuffsblog , @letsmoonkid , @iampengwing , @5150brotherbear , @approximately12lbs-of-ducks , @bexxbeauty , @elvis-has-been-dug , @ollyollyoxinfree , @magsnine , @littlewolf432 , @logical-princey

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smokeybrandreviews · 4 years ago

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Binary

This started out as a whole thing about Brie Larson. She’s started a YouTube channel and i figured I'd follow it just for kicks. I’m not a huge fan of massive Hollywood stars invading more accessible spaces but, technically, they’re the “You” in YouTube, too. I can’t be too mad at that. Of course Google is going to cater more to their brand, mostly because they bring in the duckets and understand PR so they know ho not to cause an ADpocolypse, but it’s still mad sh*tty. Larson’s first post was just her being goofy, trying to figure out how to even be a YouTuber. You kind of see a side of her that i figured was there, but never really was able to confirm. Brie Larson is the poster child for Millennial geekdom and i find that adorable as f*ck. Which is why i don’t understand the MASSIVE waves of hate she’s getting from the community. Cats are reveling in her perceived failure, it’s actually insane.

Now, before we go any further, i just want to be clear; I am a fan of Brie Larson. I think she is excellent at her craft. Ma is from my hometown and it’s always great to see someone make it out of this cowtown. I believe she has every right to her opinions and the fact that she voices them from such a visible platform, makes her one of the most endearing and real celebrities in an industry maligned by the phony. Brie ain’t quite Russell Brand but she is very vocal about the unjust sh*t she sees and will totally let you know it. That, i think, is why she garners such vitriol. Look, I'm a black dude living in the US. If she gets on TV and says f*ck white dudes, I'm inclined to agree. But she didn’t say that. What she said was there needs to be more voices making film, different perspectives in the arts. White dudes dominate the industry and she’s tired of seeing that movie. I don’t understand how that’s a controversial statement. It’s true. We need more dynamic, more diverse, storytellers making films out in the wild. The thing is, that one statement earned her the ire of every entitled white boy with time and and the internet. These motherf*cker decided to take that personally and we were off to the races.

When Brie Larson was announced as Captain Marvel, i was okay with it. I thought Charlize Theron or Katee Sackhoff would have been a better look but i get it. Larson is young and can portray the character for years to come. Kind of how Florence Pugh is going to take over Black Widow duties from Scarlett Johansson. Pugh can be that character for close to a decade, as can Larson. Once again, however, the interwebs were set asunder with rage and malcontent over the Cap Marvel announcement. It was f*cking ridiculous to me. Sure, she didn’t look the part going into this but neither did Gal Gadot, the latter turned out to be the best thing going in that trainwreck DCEU. Larson grew into the part, put in the work to look the part, and is committed to the role. She did her research, consuming massive amounts of the comics, trying to find Carol’s head space, which was a goddamn feat. Captain Marvel is as controversial as Brie Larson, herself. And it’s just as stupid.

Look, i adore Captain Marvel. She’s my fifth favorite Marvel character after Spider-Man, Doctor Doom, Laura Kinney, and Illyana Rasputin. In that order. Captain Marvel grew on me during the whole Mighty Avengers and Disassembled story lines from years ago. I have no love-loss for Bendis but that cat did wonders for building up more obscure characters, Carol being one of them. I also like what he did for Luke Cage, too, but that’s not what this essay is about. I’ve been a fan of this character since the early 00s and have rode this Carol train for years. I jumped on bored when she was rocking her leotard, which i miss terribly, took my time to dig up the back issues where she was in the original red and blue digs and moonlighted as Warbird for a bit. Then, Marvel Now happened and f*cked it all up. Carol went from this attractive, uber-powered, mess of a woman to a cold, manly, aggressively stupid caricature of herself. The Carol Danvers i had grown to love, with all of her faults and trauma, became some sort of butch nightmare and the poster child for why Woke Marvel was failing. I don’t think that’s fair.

Comic Carol was on her way to becoming a real force in the Marvel universe. She had learned there was worth in her strength, one she had to drag out through deep introspection and an understanding of who she really is. No longer was she just a gender-swapped, copyright placeholder that no one knew what to do with. Now she had agency. Now she was a force. Now she was relevant. Now tore all of that away. After Marvel Now, all of that growth and nuance was thrown out of the window. She became the idealized version of what the SJWs thought a “Strong Woman” should be. Marvel gave her a massive push in an effort to cater to this burgeoning Tumblr dynamic and it failed miserably. Marvel wanted that Steven Universe crowd and they tried real hard to get it but that sh*t did not work. The changes to the universe weren’t extreme or feminist or PC enough. Courting a fanbase that had no longevity, Carol was sabotaged and thrown to the wolves. That’s the environment we were saturated in when Disney announced Larson as Carol for the MCU. It was a perfect storm of Nerdrage, one that has not died down in any capacity all these years later for either Brie or Carol.

I don’t think the feminist slant given to the Captain Marvel movie was actually such a big deal. I think the vitriol that flick faces stems from the combined maliciousness both the new version of Carol in the comics and Brie Larson, herself, garnered. It’s kind of crazy the massive tantrum everyone decided to throw over this movie. Cats were looking for this thing to fail as some sort of petulant schadenfreude ignoring the fact that this movie wasn’t made for them. As frustrated as i was with the ludicrous discourse, i knew this movie wasn't for me. his wasn’t my Carol and i was good with that. Unlike Marvel who pandered to the trend of PC nonsense, the MCU had a clear vision in mind for the audience they wanted; Young girls. They wanted a character who was strong enough to hang with Thor, stand equally with Iron Man, and have the respect of Captain America. Captain Marvel was the best option. She would be the tentpole hero of the MCU going forward and i accepted that. I went into the film with that understanding and, on my way out, i saw, firsthand, what this movie meant to the target audience. There was a little girl, about nine or so, gushing abut how cool Captain Marvel was. She as ecstatic to see a girl like her, kicking so much butt. In the face of that, every entitled argument you have against the character falls apart in my eyes. Captain Marvel is to young girls and woman, as Black Panther was to us black folk. It’s the same energy.

Do i think the film could have been better? F*ck yea, i do. I think the script should have had one more revision and the directors definitely felt out of place. They’re good at their jobs, they mostly make A24-esque fare, but a massive, multi-million dollar, space epic connected to the most popular film franchise in history? Nah, these cats were way out of their depth. I think Feige dropped the ball on this one, a rare miss. I think Kathryn Bigelow, Patty Jenkins, Lynne Ramsay, Claire Dennis, or Lorene Scafaria would have constructed a much better film, both visually and narrative wise. I think if the movie was better as a whole, a lot of the controversy and vitriol would have been neutered. Carol is written quite wooden and a little pretentious. The interactions between the supporting cast feels forced. The overall narrative is fine but definitely could have been embellished at parts. Captain Marvel is boring and i don’t know how that happened. You have one of the strongest characters in comics, with a distinct, visually appealing powerset, and you make her movie boring? Really? More than anything, though, is the absolute mistreatment of Sam Jackson and Nick Fury.

The writing reduces Nick Fury, the mind behind the entirety of the Avengers Initiative, to lap boy sidekick in an effort to up Carol’s own stature. That sh*t is poor writing and it’s mad frustrating to see. I hate narratives that have to job established characters, in an effort to push new additions. I just wrote a whole goddamn thing about that with Punchline, Joker’s new “partner”. It’s bogus, cheapening the character and opens up an avenue for bad-faith complaints. Rey Palpatine is another great example. Her entire character is built on the slow, methodical, violent, destruction of the Skywalker legacy. Interestingly enough, that character was launched in the same environment as New Carol so i understand why the movie is the way that it is. I don’t agree with it, but i know why. It was an incredibly poor choice to introduce Captain Marvel in this way, however, and she’s never recovered. Brie has never recovered. You want a 90s buddy-cop space opera? Lethal Weapon with Skrulls and starships? You need your Murtaugh and Riggs to stand on equal footing. That was not the case with this flick. Having Nick Fury job to Carol Danvers for two hours was the wrong way to go about all of this and i think a different creative team could have made something truly excellent.

It’s nuts to me that this is even a thing though. Brie’s personal controversy is so f*cking stupid, i choke every time i think about it. How are you mad she stand up for herself, her gender, and everyone else in a position of persecution? Don’t you want though with a platform speaking up about the inequities of our country? I feel like the same people who hate Brie for her vocal advocacy, are the same people who stan “All Lives Matter” when ever someone says Black Lives Matter. That sh*t feels like the same energy to me. I feel like the criticisms launched at comic Carol have real validity, even if most of them are just whiny man-children who miss the leotard. I miss the leotard, too, but come on? We’re passed that now. I do think, when written well, Carol can be a force in the books. Her run as part of the new Ultimates was pretty chill I think she needs that in order to be her true self, until we establish a true self for the character. It’s weird to say but Captain Marvel, Ms. Marvel previously, has been around for fifty years, and no one has any idea who she is as a character. I think Captain Marvel in the MCU, both the character and film, are hated for the wrong reasons. The fact that no one has any idea who this character is, makes for a lousy cinematic experience. The team put together in an effort to flesh this character out, didn’t have the creative capacity to do so and we were left with little more than PC tropes and Feminist agenda. The MCU let both Brie and Carol down in that regard.

Brie Larson isn’t a terrible person and she deserves more respect put on her name. She an accomplished actress with a bevy of awards and accolades to her name. She’s been in great films like Room and Scott Pilgrim, never once garnering a controversy. The fact that she speaks her truth, a truth the establishment doesn’t want to hear, should not disqualify her talent or the fact that she seems like a really chill person. Carol Danvers is a dope ass character with an amazing amount of potential. When she’s written well and not traded upon for trends, she can have real staying power. Her abilities open up a plethora of interesting, creatively fertile narratives yet to be written. Disregarding her just because Marvel decided to gamble on the pretentious third-wave feminism wave is shortsighted and makes you look like a childish brat. You’re entitled to feel however you want but let’s be clear; Brie Larson and Carol Danvers deserve so much better.

#Captain Marvel #Carol Danvers #Brie Larson #Marvel

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skvaderarts · 5 years ago

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Chapter Fourteen: Consternation

You can check out the Masterlist Here for more links to places to read!

Chapter Fourteen: Consternation

Note: I wanted to thank you all again for your support. Seeing each and every one of you come back every week to read my writing makes me smile every time I think about it. It’s the best feeling in the world to know that you’ve created something that appeals to others as much as it appeals to you. Thank you all again.

-~-

The ground rumbled, sending a booming wave of vibration reverberating through the entirety of the first two floors of the castle like thunder shaking a monumental skyscraper. As the doors groaned loudly, protesting their separation, air hissed through from the other side of the door as if an airlock had been opened. It had been an exceedingly long time since anyone had come here, and the bitter cold had practically sealed the place shut. As the door pried itself open, it suddenly came to a stop, leaving just enough space for them to slide through. In a way, it was almost as if the castle had realized that it was being entered and had made an effort to stop its intruders.

Nero considered the risks of stepping through for a moment, still determined to find a way inside. He glanced up at the towering structure that stood before him. There were windows and balconies everywhere he looked, but they’d have to scale several sheer walls to reach them, and that was debatably just as bad of an idea as trying their luck with the front door. The castle had always seemed to possess a strange sort of sentience, doors locking and unlocking with a frightening level of autonomy. And that was to say nothing about the ridiculous amount of wards and spells safeguarding the damn place that were still active. There was no guarantee that it wouldn’t close the doors on them while they were in the process of going through them.

While Nero contemplated the risks associated with either decision, something occurred to him. Most of his life, he could’ve been charitably described as reckless. In high-risk situations that were more likely to end in death than victory, he was normally the first to waltz in, insults and swagger at the ready. But since losing Credo a few years back and more recently his arm (which had thankfully regrown) he had actually started to take the time to consider the risks involved before he enacted one of his plans. At least on occasion. There was no denying the fact that when he chose to do something, it had an effect on the people he was closest to, even if they were not present. If he didn’t come back, they would be worse for it, especially Kyrie and the kids. And in this case, he had agreed to bring V to one of the most fickle and dangerous places possible with only him for protection. Magnolia has said that his abilities would slowly return in the coming days and weeks, but the important thing to note was that they were still dormant as of now. What would V do if he was backed into a corner or they became separated? Nero didn’t really want to think about it. When had V’s fatalistic personality rubbed off on him?

The younger of the two stopped for a moment, trying to rid himself of the possibility of failure. If he went in with that sort of toxic mindset, he was doomed to fail. It was as simple as that. And he utterly refused to allow any harm to come to V. It didn't take a mental giant to come to the conclusion that V didn't’ trust very easily, so the fact that they were here at all spoke volumes to the kind of faith V had placed in his abilities. It was borne partially out of necessity and desperation, but that was still significant. Neither of them were weak or stupid, and they both shared a similar issue with putting their lives in the hands of others, even if they trusted that individual implicitly. Nero had taken on a sort of silent promise the moment he had agreed to this, being that he was the only one present who was capable of defending himself. So long as they were within the walls of this castle, V was his responsibility. The thought made him shudder slightly.

While he had defeated the very worst that this place had to offer (at least to his knowledge) he still didn’t care for the idea that V was essentially helpless. When they had been in Redgrave City together, V had been surprisingly self-sufficient for a person who walked with a cane. At first glance, the most dangerous thing about him was his wit; the second most intimidating thing being his height. V towered over an average person, even when slumped over on his cane. And despite the fact that he was perhaps the most physically vulnerable out of all of them, he had volunteered to stay behind for the month that Nero had spent away in an effort to find a way to become stronger, trying to hold back the tilde wave of demons that had sought to overtake the city and then the rest of the human world by extension. The fact that V had been capable of doing that with abilities he barely understood and summons that he had only recently acquired from what he could tell astonished him. They seemed to be relatively close in age, after all. Where had this stark contrast in their abilities come from? Were the older members of their bloodline simply born with a disposition towards higher amounts of power? Vergil had been a nightmare to take down, after all. Every fight with Urizen had been totally draining in every way conceivable. The possibility of an opponent stronger than Dante had been unfathomable, but his own twin had been happy to rise to the challenge. Nero couldn’t help but wonder just how strong V had the potential of being if he himself was anything to go by. Without his physical limitations, what was he capable of? Or was that a limitation at all? Just how evenly matched were they?

Nero spent a moment lost in his thoughts while V stood quietly next to him, The eldest of the two admiring the building before them. Yes… there was simply something to this place, wasn’t there? V inched forward, wishing now that he had Shadow at his disposal. He could make short, effortless work of this issue with her present. While he had gotten around just fine on his own two feet for years, the quick burst of speed that the demonic panther had provided never ceased being useful. A part of him wondered what his familiars were up to, despite the fact that he already knew they were no longer a part of this realm. Griffon and Shadow had been in a sorry state when he had decided to make a contract with them. The two of them couldn’t have survived very long without him to anchor them here. In a way, that was the beauty of the situation that they had found themselves in. Their entire union had been born of necessity and co-dependence. Any chance of treachery or falsehoods had evaporated the moment that they had attached their markings to his skin, for without his lifeforce, they would not be long for this world.

V shivered slightly, be it a result of the cold weather or his ever treacherous, thoughts he couldn’t say. He adjusted the coat Nero had allowed him to barrow slightly. It was comfortable and well insulated, especially in combination with the black shirt he was currently wearing underneath it. Somehow he always found himself in black clothing. How that happened, he didn’t know. Something about the color (or lack of color) just spoke to him. And that was to say nothing of the fact that it literally matched everything. After he fixed his clothing, he stepped towards the door, carefully assessing it. In theory, the structure shouldn’t shift as long as he didn’t touch it. There was more than enough room for them to pass through without that becoming an issue.

Nero watched V carefully slip through the gap between the doors, somewhat shocked to see him do so before him. He had figured that V would simply wait for him to come to a conclusion as to whether or not it was safe, but he hadn’t done so. But then again, Nero hadn’t been around to help him make all of his decisions his entire life. V was more than capable of coming to his own conclusions. Nero followed closely behind him, noting that he had made a point not to touch the doors. That made sense to him. Perhaps the door wouldn’t move if he just didn’t touch it?

After nearly snagging his coat on the door, Nero joined him inside of the great hall. While the younger man adjusted his coat, V made his way over to one of the displaced pews that sat up against the wall and sat down, clearly awestruck by the structure they stood within. It seemed that his former strength had yet to return to him. Exhaustion was a powerful force to try and fight against, but at least he wasn’t out of breath. Nero walked over and sat down next to him, casually assessing his situation. Just because he knew what was wrong with him didn’t mean that he didn’t care.

“You good or do you want to wait a while?” Nero asked, his voice betraying the slight bit of worry that he couldn’t quite suppress.

V exhaled, craning his neck to look over at him. He seemed calm and collected, his condition apparently not adversely affecting him too much. “I simply needed to catch my breath,” he said as he stood up,” It would be wise if we started with the library. Do you know where it is from here?”

Nero stood up to join him and nodded, gesturing towards the large staircase at the far end of the room. The magic barriers that had once cordoned off practically everything in this place were gone for the moment, making traversal much simpler than it had been the first time he had been here. From what he could tell, they activated in response to threats or other unknown sources of stimuli, and with the nearby Hellgate in ruins, there wasn’t much to speak of. Not to mention the fact that if Sparda had in fact lived here and had been the one to place the barriers in the first place, they might simply allow them to traverse the grounds unobstructed. Or, at the very least, not immediately try to kill them.

As the duo made their way over towards the staircase, V couldn’t help but notice the condition of the room. Most of the pews were out of place, there were varying sizes of stone debris littering the ground, as well as what looked to be a ridiculously sized chandelier laying destroyed at the top of the stairs next to a large gaping hole in what looked to be a piece of art or something that had once been attached to the wall. He smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Am I to assume this is your handiwork, Nero?” He said sarcastically, obviously already sure as to who had done this.

He made no effort to suppress the snicker slipped past his lips as he recalled the time he had mounted that gaudy thing and launched it through the painting of the former vicar. That sanctimonious bastard Sanctus (lol, just noticed the meaning of his name!) would have been so thoroughly pissed to know that he had destroyed it. Part of him hoped that he had discovered it before he’d sent him on a one way express trip to hell, but another part of him couldn’t care less about how Sanctus felt. That self-righteous prick had got what was coming to him for what he did to Credo and the rest of Fortuna.

“Yea, I did this a couple of years back. Cre-,” Nero stopped, realizing that he wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet,”... Someone I used to look up to sent me to track down Dante right after we first met and that’s how I found Agnus’s lab. What a shitshow that whole thing was…”

V noticed that Nero had stopped in the middle of saying something, but chose not to dwell on it. The younger man struck him as very genuine. V could only assume that if he didn’t want to talk about something (which he clearly didn’t) that there was a good reason for it. He himself had no small number of secrets and deeply repressed issues that he didn’t want to address. There was no room for him to judge others on their personal decisions when it came to these sorts of things. And besides, walking up the stairs without tripping and falling was enough for him to worry about at the moment.

Nero waited at the top of the stairs for him as he carefully made his way up. He wasn’t going slowly, but then again, he wasn’t going very quickly either. Should he be walking on a flat surface at the moment, this would be more of a stroll. But the height that the balcony sat at made this a rather lengthy staircase to navigate. Thankfully the slope was gentle and the stairs were wide.

“We seem to have a gift for walking into disasters,” V said as he made his way up the stairs,” I’ve heard precious little about what transpired here a short while ago, but none of it sounded very pleasant. Quite the tragedy.”

Nero nodded in agreement, heading towards the door on the far right of the steps. That was an understatement. So many innocent lives had been lost that day. Although the people here had taken most of his life to warm up to him, most of them were very accommodating towards him, now that the Order had been exposed. And even if they hadn’t been, he couldn’t quite bring himself to despise them. No one deserved to die the way so many of them had during that attack. Well, at least no one he knew of currently. A few of the higher-ups in the Order of the Sword might be exceptions to that. Nico’s useless excuse for a father definitely landed on that list.

A thought occurred to him as he examined the door, remembering that it needed an external mechanism to unlock it that was located on a nearby wall. How would things have been different should they have both ended up in the same orphanage as children? Had V always been this frail? Nero knew so little about his life, and the more he thought about it, the more it surprised him just how out of the loop he was. He glanced back at V as he headed over to the lock. He could only imagine that V probably hated stairs. They seemed to give him no small amount of trouble, at least without his cane. As V reached the top of the stairs, Nero took Red Queen off of his back and swung it several times rapidly, lighting up the nodes built into the enchanted gear. It spun rapidly before the little arrows that stuck out of it slammed back into their proper places, locking into position as it glowed bright blue. The blue glyphs that sealed the door blinked in an unusual pattern before dissipating, a loud click signaling that they could now make their way inside.

V stepped forward, watching in silent curiosity as the seals dropped. This place became more and more interesting every passing moment that they spent inside of it. How fortunate It was that Nero was here with him. He didn’t currently possess a means of unlocking a ward of this nature. Should he have been alone, this would’ve been the end of his journey.

“Is every door in this castle guarded by arcane spells,” V asked, genuinely curious and slightly wary. He was starting to see the possible dangers that Nero had alluded to.

Nero shrugged absentmindedly. “Yea, kinda. And there are secret doors all over the place that go to the stupidest places. One of them is in the library, but it only works one way. You can’t go through it from both sides.”

Before either of them could say anything further, the sound of creaking metal could be heard from nearby. They both glanced in the direction of the gaping hole in the wall, noting that the chandelier was vibrating. A moment later, shards of metal flew every which way and a sound somewhat similar to a buzz saw rang out, disrupting the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. As soon as a path was cleared, several fin-like extremities made their way into the room, followed by a seemingly endless swarm of flying blade-like contraptions. Nero’s breath caught in his throat. In the span of less than a minute, a few dozen Gladius and Cutlass had entered the room. Agnus might have been dead, but apparently his legacy lived on. The laboratory wasn’t too far below them. Were these leftovers from his experiments that had been left to their own devices since their master was now deceased?

While these particular demons were not too much of a challenge to dispatch, Nero was not keen on dealing with them with V directly in the line of fire. The sheer number of them and the combination of surfaces they could cover in an instant made this a deadly match up. V seemed to clue into this, stepping back carefully to open the door. Seeming the instant that he moved, several of the Cutlass deviated from their current path and dived towards them. Nero cursed, drawing Blue Rose to dispatch them before they could make contact. A few well-placed rounds eliminated any plans that the demons may have had of causing any damage. The sound, however, attracted the attention of almost every other demon in the room. They grouped together, swirling into a cylinder as they sped up, the flying monstrosities clearly building momentum for something more dangerous. Nero spared a glance towards V, who didn’t look frightened so much as he looked perturbed and concerned. The summoner had never seen these artificial demons before and had no idea how to combat them. Not that he could anyhow.

As the door creaked open, the swarm of Cutlass made a sharp left and launched themselves at the duo, clearly intending to harpoon them. Nero took aim and fired off several rounds in rapid succession, not a single one missing due to the sheer number of possible points of impact. About a dozen of the winged menaces lodge themselves in the wall and floor around them, clearly demonstrating that they hadn’t become any duller during his infrequent visits. With one well-placed charge shot, Nero managed to cut a swath through his enemies, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath as they diverted and turned to circle back around for another attack. The Gladius seemed to understand their intentions, as they grouped together and joined them, seemingly preparing to pull off some sort of coordinated attack.

Nero and V had absolutely no intention of sticking around to see what they had planned.

The second they were given an opportunity, Nero shot one last charged shot into the group of demons in an effort to dissipate and slow them and they both bolted through the door. Closing it behind them immediately became problematic as the barrage of demons attempted to follow them through, forcing the door to stay open. Nero and V both braced themselves against the door to try and hold it shut while Nero used his free hand to shower the bladed terrors in hot led, realizing quickly that it was going to do very little against the Gladius if they managed to slip through.

“V, can you make it to the other door,” Nero asked as she quickly gestured towards the balcony exit on the far side of the art gallery,” We can’t hold them off that much longer!”

That depends,” V said almost too calmly as he tried not to slide down towards the floor, his meager frame straining under the effort required to help hold the demons at bay,” are you coming with me?”

Nero didn’t need to ask if V was willing to leave here without him. No. No, he wasn’t. His question implied that simply in the manner that it was asked. Without even needing to say it, he had just told him everything that he needed to know about the extent of their relationship, at least from V’s perspective. Despite their situation, Nero was genuinely touched, if not a bit surprised by how transparent V was being with him. Perhaps he didn’t want to potentially end their relationship on a bad note? Regardless, Nero nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you.”

V paused for a moment, giving him a hesitant but believing look. He didn’t think Nero would lie to him. A second later he bolted towards the door, leaving Nero alone to try to hold them off until he could unlock the second one. The younger of the two immediately felt the difference in the weight he was trying to hold back, somewhat surprised at how much V had actually contributed to keeping the door closed. He slid back for a moment before forcing himself forward, unwilling to let the door open. Just a moment later, V managed to get the door open and Nero rushed towards him, fully aware that they had to get the second door closed before the hoard pursuing them managed to reach them.

He slipped through after V, sliding to a stop at a few Cutlass managed to slip through the cracks before they could close the door. As the door slammed shut, they were both blasted off their feet and into the balcony railing by a barrage of attacks from the demons. V gasped as the air left his lungs when he made impact with the ground and railing while Nero regained his footing quickly and grabbed one of the Cutlass, launching them towards the rest of the group. He noted that V seemed to be struggling slightly to stand up, debating if he should simply snatch him off his feet and carry him to the library door. The sound of screeching metal cut through the air as the Gladius attempted to cut their way through the door holding them at bay. He didn’t doubt for a second that they were capable of doing that as he grabbed his sword and revved the throttle built into the handle, sending smoldering sparks flying through the air as the blade glowed crimson. With one well-placed lunge, the flying pests were eliminated and he turned his attention back to V, noting that he still hadn’t quite made it to his feet. What was going on with him?

Nero extended his hand, more than willing to help him up. “You okay, V?”

V exhaled shakily, betraying his distress as he raised a blood-covered hand to grip his brother’s extended hand. The eldest of the two had been allowing it to rest on his right side in what Nero assumed to be an attempt to stop any further bleeding. Nero did a quick double-take, concerned and unsure as to how harm had managed to come to V during their ordeal. One of the Cutlass must have managed to get between them during their getaway.

“I assure you, I’m fine. It’s just a flesh wound,” V said as Nero gently helped him to his feet. He seemed to be out of breath, but otherwise stable,” We should leave this place. I do not think that door will hold them at bay for much longer.”

Nero nodded in agreement as they headed towards the other end of the walk. Once they were somewhere more secure, he would check on him. If they could make it to the library unseen, the demons would more than likely go back to their idle state and stop pursuing them until they passed by again at some point. As they headed towards the door, Nero took notice of the fact that V seemed to be leaning on him slightly, more than likely in need of additional support due to his injury. He wondered to himself for a moment if V healed like the rest of their family and came to the conclusion that he most likely didn’t since he seemed to still be bleeding. That admittedly concerned him.

A moment later they entered the library. Nero carefully led V over to one of the rails, watching as he slid down to a sitting position and exalted in clear discomfort. Much like they had the last time he had been here, the doors sealed shut, the blue emblem that had adorned them on his first trip still active. He could only assume that was a good thing but wasn’t entirely sure. He didn’t really understand how all of this magic bullshit worked. The mechanism that allowed him to break the seal before was still in the room and it was still in its active form, but he wasn’t if he could move it without possessing the device that he had found here previously. His old arm had absorbed the Anima Mercury. There was no way of guaranteeing that he still retained the ability after his run-in with Vergil.

For a moment they just stood there, attempting to catch their breath. The Gladius and Cutlass had seemingly halted their assault for the moment since there was no sound coming from their direction. For the moment, they were safe, if not a bit banged up. And the both needed a moment to collect themselves. Nero hadn’t seen the castle this active in a long time, even when he had come here to help Nico earlier this year. Everything had been dormant at that time.

He suddenly had a very bad feeling about this trip.

They needed to leave as soon as possible.

Thanks again for reading this chapter! I spell-checked everything, but if I missed anything, feel free to let me know. It’s funny how two grammar and spelling problems still can’t get the job done, am I right? Anyway, I’ll see you all on June 17th for chapter FIFTEEN! Gosh, it’s cool to be able to say that! I look forward to reading and answering your comments. Have a great rest of your week!

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pips-fics · 5 years ago

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tw: vomiting/emeto

jisung woke up shaking like a leaf and in a cold sweat. he could smell himself and he did not smell nice. he smelled sour and somehow like armpits and feet at the same time and that combined with the arm digging into his stomach - the arm digging into his stomach?

he opened his eyes for about one second and the world somehow managed to spin, in spite of it being nothing but pure darkness. in spite of that as well, jisung managed to gather that the arm belonged to minho, who had either gotten lonely, gotten cold, or had sleep walked to jisung’s bed in the middle of the night. his memory jarred, jisung vaguely remembered that they were at a hotel in - where were they? some country, he couldn’t remember, but it wasn’t korea, and despite his uncontrollable shivering and how much he normally didn’t mind minho invading his sleeping territory, he needed to get this stupid arm off of his stomach. and he needed to shower. and change the bed sheets, because there was probably a jisung-shaped sweat stain on them as of now. if minho was awake, he’d be appalled to be touching jisung right now.

so, as slowly and quietly and smoothly as he could jisung rolled off the bed. the rolling, it turned out, was an awful idea. and actually, the whole being out of bed thing turned out to be one of the worst ideas jisung had ever had, apparently, because his legs didn’t seem up to being stood on.

maybe he just needed to sit for a second?

he slumped to the ground with his back to the bed and leaned forward, letting his head fall into his hands. maybe he’d just… stay here. at least it was cooler on the floor. and jisung was tired… so tired. his eyes drooped. his body slumped to the side. every part of his body hurt, but he wanted so badly not to move that he could almost call himself comfortable. that is, he was willing to lie to himself for the sake of sleep.

until his stomach lurched and he realized that sleep wasn’t in the cards. he put a hand over his mouth, suppressing a gag. no. he was not going to be sick. he swallowed, again and again, but he was only making his throat dryer and that was making him feel sicker. a hiccup wracked his whole body, making his situation all the more precarious, and he was left shaking with the effort of keeping his stomach where it belonged.

no. no, no.

a moan slipped out from between his lips. his stomach hurt so bad. he closed his eyes. maybe he could meditate the sick feeling away.

“jisung?” shit, minho.

maybe he could pretend he was asleep. maybe if he just stayed quiet-

“jisungie?” oh, no, that was minho’s pre-panic voice. so then pretending to sleep wasn’t going to work.

“minho-hyung, go back to sleep.” in hindsight, jisung had no idea why he thought that would do anything but pique minho’s interest. he could imagine the way his expression mirrored the curiosity of a cat, partly hoping for something good, partly hoping for something entertaining.

jisung wished he could convince him that this was neither of those things, but sure enough minho’s face came peaking over the edge of the bed with that exact expression on his face.

“hannie, why are you on the floor?”

“it’s-“ jisung hiccuped. “it’s comfortable.”

minho frowned, staring more closely at the younger boy as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “let me try!”

jisung sighed. he could hardly prevent minho from sitting on the floor. hell, he couldn’t even keep him out of his own bed. unsurprisingly, minho was beside him in a few seconds. he was quiet for a moment. then:

“this is not comfortable. objectively.”

maybe minho would leave, go back to the comfortable bed, if jisung could just hold it together for one minute- he swallowed a hiccup that somehow turned into a gag and a hand clamped over his mouth and some sort of disgusting noise as he swallowed back down stomach acid.

minho’s eyes locked onto him instantly.

great job, dumbass.

“you do not look good.” fuck, jisung did not feel good at all.

“thanks,” jisung managed, just barely. he squeezed his eyes shut. he was not going to open his mouth again for the rest of the night, he was not-

minho’s hands were suddenly on jisung’s face and jisung was still not going to open his mouth but he had nothing against flailing a bit. until he realized that flailing had nearly as bad an affects on his stomach as opening his mouth had. reluctantly, he stilled, and much to his surprise minho had pulled back.

“jisungie, are you sick?”

jisung shrugged, avoiding looking even slightly in minho’s direction.

“let’s go to the bathroom.”

oh, jisung so did not want to move. “no.”

minho frowned, and stood up. huh, maybe he had given up. out of character, but-

he returned with the tiny little hotel trashcan that had originally been under the desk.

“just in case,” he explained. jisung scowled.

“no, i’m not gonna- fuck,” jisung’s stomach lurched and he snatched the trash out of minho’s hand, startling the older boy as he retched loudly. fuck.

——

jisung had never looked so small. so weak. so still and worn out and scared. jisung was always so sharp and put together and on top of everything and stable.

right now he looked downright fragile and minho was not prepared to deal with this. the first time jisung retched, minho had nearly jumped out of his skin, and that time nothing had come up. within the next second, vomit was filling the plastic bin with an appalling noise and an even worse odor, and minho had to resist every molecule in his body just to prevent himself from running away.

he wasn’t even squeamish. just scared.

“i’ll-“ minho started to stand, his shaky hand on jisung’s shuddering back. “i’ll get chan, or woojin, just wait a minute, jisungie.”

minho started to move away, but hesitated upon feeling a slight - weak - tug on his pajama pants. he looked down just as jisung’s hand slipped to the ground, his body wracked by another heave. minho shuddered.

“sungjie, i don’t know how to help you, but chan or, or woojin - they would know.”

minho jumped as jisung made another noise minho had never heard before. the younger boy’s shoulders jolted and more sick poured out of his mouth, and then he looked up and shook his head almost violently and made that noise again and- oh, god, was he sobbing, was that what that sound was?

“you can’t, minho, please, i-“ he hiccuped. “i don’t want to bother them, i didn’t want to bother you, you should–“ jisung retched and spat up some bile.

“woah, hey,” minho crouched down again. “i’m not gonna just leave you here alone, i just-“

“no, you need sleep and jeongin has an extra bed,” jisung hiccuped and minho braced himself for more puking but was instead met with the kind of short breaths that tended to anticipate a panic attack. honestly, not exactly preferable.

“jisung. hey. please, take a deep breath. please.” minho took his own advice and then put a hand on jisung’s shoulder. “sungie, look at me, i’m not gonna leave, not gonna wake up anyone else. you’re okay. i’m okay.”

jisung looked, his eyes glinting and wet in the darkness. minho’s heart ached, but he was relieved as the younger boy’s breathing began to slow.

“okay, good. good. do you still feel sick?”

jisung hesitated briefly, then nodded. minho frowned and played a bit with jisung’s sweaty hair.

“baby, you probably have a stomach bug. we should really get you to the bathroom.”

“no…” jisung whined pitifully. “don’t wanna be… upright.”

“okay,” minho said amicably. “i’ll carry you, then.”

that, as desired, got jisung’s attention. “no! no, i’ll, i’ll walk, just… will you help?”

minho was already grabbing his arm, helping him to his feet. “okay, let’s go!”

two steps later and minho was absolutely terrified that he was about to get puked on. also, carrying jisung would have been easier. as it was, the sick boy was stumbling sideways because his face was buried against minho’s shoulder, making gulping, gasping sounds that were making minho nauseous. minho was holding the entirety of the younger boy’s weight up - which wasn’t much, actually, but carrying deadweight was never easy. carrying deadweight while in constant fear of being puked on was even harder.

fortunately, they made it without disaster, just barely. as soon as they were near the toilet, jisung crumpled to he ground with a gurgling heave.

minho flicked the bathroom light on, almost instinctively turning it off as jisung began making pitiful noises of distaste.

“turn it off!” the sick boy looked awful. sweaty and shaky and pale and just slightly green, slightly flushed. his eyes squinty from the light, one hand on his stomach, the other on his very obviously aching head.

“sorry, babe, i have to be able to see.”

he checked the clock: 12:53 am. he checked on jisung: still throwing up quite a lot, now trying to hide his face in his arms as he did so. minho grabbed some pillows and blankets off the hotel beds and dragged them to the bathroom, snagging a bottle of water from the refrigerator on the way.

“sungie, drink some water.”

“uh-uh,” jisung groaned. he’d been quiet for a bit, so minho had begun to hope that he was done for a while. apparently not, seeing as he suddenly lurched forward. minho winced at the multiple consecutive splashing noises that followed. as jisung started to cough, minho was struck yet again by how small, how young he looked.

on the plus side, his little stomach seemed to be empty, if the unproductive retching was anything to go by. still he remained slumped over the toilet. minho made a face. it smelled awful.

“jisungie, lean back.”

“no,” jisung mumbled, voice slurred. minho sighed as jisung dry heaved again.

“you’re making yourself sicker, baby, come on, get your head out of there please, and i’ll flush it for you. then you can go back. with slightly less vomit-smell.”

jisung shot minho a look of pure disdain, but followed his instructions when the older boy helped him lean back against a pile of pillows. a literal mountain of all eight pillows that came with the room, which were now piled on the floor of the bathroom.

jisung looked so small…

shaking his head to clear it, minho flushed the toilet, then grabbed the water bottle and knelt down next to jisung. the kid looked absolutely exhausted. minho could hardly blame him, but still. it hurt, seeing him like this.

carefully, minho brushed jisung’s sweaty hair back on his head, giving him a gentle head massage as he did so. “mmm.” jisung seemed to like it.

“okay, you have to drink some water. please.”

slowly, reluctantly, jisung’s eyes blinked open.

“you’re kind of freaking me out, babe,” minho said quietly. “you need to stay hydrated.”

“fine,” jisung grumbled. minho almost grinned, he was so relieved. “just a sip!”

“okay, okay, here!” minho handed the younger boy the water bottle and watched him take a single sip, then another five or so when he saw minho watching.

“done.” well, minho was honestly surprised he’d drunk that much. thankfully, jisung looked slightly better. minho took the water bottle and screwed the cap back on. he left for a minute to put the water back in the refrigerator, and when he got back, jisung was very much asleep, laying comfortably on the pillow pile.

——

jisung woke up at some point, nauseous once again. apparently there wasn’t much in his stomach, because as painful as violently spewing up pure stomach acid was, it didn’t last long.

he leaned back onto the pillow pile, vaguely remembering minho putting it there. speaking of… where was minho? jisung swiveled his head around, doing a double take as he nearly missed him - there he was, laying on bathroom floor, dead asleep in spite of the cold, hard ground beneath him.

jisung really hoped minho didn’t get sick.

his stomach lurched again and jisung hunched over the toilet yet again. apparently, he’d been wrong about assuming his stomach was empty, because he threw up a whole lot. he really hoped minho didn’t get sick, because getting sick fucking sucked.

——

when minho woke up in the morning, he wrinkled his nose immediately. the bathroom smelled absolutely rancid. he pushed himself up off the ground, his whole body aching from the floor he’d slept on, and rubbed his eyes. he was so tired he could hardly remember where he was, let alone figure out the smell.

then his eyes landed on jisung, who had once again fallen into that apparently comfortable position of hanging his head over the vomit-filled toilet, who must have woken up in the middle of the night and been sick again, who was going to be in so much pain when he woke up.

minho clicked his tongue and gently moved jisung away from the toilet before flushing it. minho inspected jisung closely, then, checking his complexion and his temperature. he was still a bit warm, but the kid felt notably less sweaty than he had last night and looked slightly more alive, so that was something. minho just hoped he’d be up to replenishing his liquids as soon as he woke up, because chan and woojin would find out about this soon and they’d no doubt be exponentially more forceful than minho had.

#unedited #but honestly i just wanted to get some writing posted asap #skz #stray kids #sickfic #tw vomit #tw emeto #vomiting #lee minho #han jisung #lee know #han #kpop #kpop sickfic #kpop emeto #sick jisung

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zerotexas1975 · 6 years ago

Text

lights out (part 1);

↳ pairing: taehyung x female reader

↳ genre: friends to lovers au | horror | crack | fluff | smut

↳ word count: 2,254

↳ warnings: cursing, smut for the next part

↳ summary: when your apartment is haunted on a Halloween day but not really.

part 1 | part 2 (final) | masterlist

First thing you notice when you wake up is that all of your doors and drawers are open.

You squint your eyes at the bright light of your phone when you reach one hand to grab it at the nightstand, rolling to your side in the comfort of one of Taehyung’s sweaters you stole.

There are no particular messages you want to reply, so you get up and pad into the corridor to the kitchen dragging your bare feets on the floor and closing all of the doors in the way - and you would have put more thoughts into it if you weren’t so thirsty.

You place your phone at the open kitchen counter and open your refrigerator to fill a glass with ice and water. You massage the side of your head and while you down the welcomed drink, you wonder how and why you are still alive - when the image of Taehyung taking care of you flash in front of your eyes.

Ah, right. Your best friend might be evil and he did dare you last night to drink all of those shots, but he still took you home and helped you in your bed - probably forced down your throat one advil or two too.

You smile to yourself, the fond one you only have reserved to Taehyung and whenever you think about him.

The water you just had felt refreshing though made you feel a little nauseous and you crouch down to open the cabinet under the sink in order to find another pill.

You wince both at the sound of a new message that arrived running throughout the silent place and to the fact that you hit your head when you jumped scared, cursing under your breath after getting up and turning around to grab the device - but stop with your hand froze in the air because when you see it is not there.

A frown adorn your face and you bend over the counter to see if it fell from there and find it on the floor of the living room, meters away from where you left it.

You pick it up at the same time another two messages arrives and you don’t think about anything anymore - the light pain on your head momentarily but easily forgotten when you read the name on the screen.

You feel the smile creeping up on your lips and the way your heartbeat increases, but ignore them as usual.

taetae (11:21): is my dude okay? didn’t drown on your own vomit, did you?

taetae (11:22): should i check?

taetae (11:22): dont forget about the partytttt

you (11:23): stop calling me that

you (11:23): and im alright, you took good care of me ♡

you (11:24): i still hate you though this is your fault

taetae (11:25): not really??? and you love me

you (11:25): hm

taetae (11:26): ㅠ_ㅠ

you (11:26): whatever lmao see you later

taetae (11:27): ( ＾∇＾)

You roll your eyes and go back to the kitchen, shoving your phone into the pocket of your sweater.

You move around to make yourself some simple breakfast, something that will stay inside of your stomach without much effort and not long after you are sitting at the cold floor and eating, the other pill already swallowed.

You munch on your food, thinking about Taehyung’s text and the past week.

You see, there’s this tradition between you and your friends - that started not much after you all entered college. It’s when you find a way, no matter what, to spend a whole week together.

And they chose what they say is the best time of the year.

They chose Halloween.

So every last week of october you find yourself getting drunk, doing stupid things - because you are all stupids, but seeing each other at least.

That was the way you all managed to keep in contact. And yes, you might curse them all for the entirety of the month of november, but dude you have fun.

Even if you can’t remember half of the things that happened - and still have fresh on your mind the ones you wanted to forget.

Like Taehyung avoiding you like the plague yesterday at one point.

You think how it shouldn’t be important, seeing as he took care of you later and texted you today like nothing happened - but he didn’t stay the night. And he always he did.

Pushing the thought away and laughing briefly at the image of - please listen, a drunk Seulgi asking the DJ of the nightclub to play the music theme of Winx Club, you stand up and place the empty plate at the sink.

Taking in one deep breath you stretch your body, feeling slightly better. A nap would make you feel renewed.

Your body stiffen though when you hear the loud pitched voice of a comedian echoing through the thin walls of the apartment - it comes from the TV at the living room, you think, and you frown deeply when you see the images dancing in front of you when you approach it.

The volume is all the way up, and you twist around looking for the remote - giving up when you don’t find it and pressing the single button at the TV to turn it off.

You space out, arms hanging loose at your sides and eyes wide. Your mind force yourself to remind of the open doors and drawers and then the way your phone appeared on the living room when you swear you placed it on the kitchen counter, and now this.

You laughed incredulously now.

You blame hungover and your sleepy state when you woke up and shrug the bad feeling off of your body.

Not that you have really bad hangovers after being taken care of, and not that you were that sleepy when you woke up - but today is the exception. You will pretend at least that today is different.

Unfortunately, your day is really different. Unfortunately because it is not in the way you expected it to be.

Really weird things happened while you tried to distract yourself with chores - that you decided you’d be doing after you tossed helplessly around in bed trying to take a nap.

The shower turned on while you were inside your room and the lights flickered so many times that at one point you lost count. You heard the front door cracking open and then shutting twice, the TV was loud again and you were too scared to go back to the living room - so you just reached your arm out and with the remote of the TV in your room you turned it off.

But what made you snap and take a few clothes and important documents (because you are responsible and smart) and shove them inside a bag was the power.

One moment you were curled up in your bed with headphones and loud music playing, and the other you were screaming because the whole house becomes pitch black - all of your electric appliances shutting down in that characteristic sound.

“Well demon, you want my house?” You sigh, taking one last look at your beloved apartment before shouting the next sentence that followed with the loud bang of the door shutting close, “you fucking have it!”

You huff under your breath, carrying the heavy bag you arranged behind you, “I’m going to live in a church,” you muttered. “God bless me.”

You were so irritated that a demon had the courage to haunt your apartment that you didn’t notice that yours was the only one without energy.

Nor the person carefully hidden in the corner, close to the panel boards. Your panel board.

Taehyung practices his most serious yet surprised expression in front of the mirror before turning around to open the door and welcome you.

“Hi?” he looks at you with said expression and proud.

You enter his house without waiting for invitation - not that you needed it but you always had good manners, and drop your heavy bag on the floor.

“The party is one hour away,” he eyed you up and down. “Why you are not dressed yet?”

“My house is haunted and I’m going to sleep here with you until the demon decides to have mercy on me and leave.” You cry and your brows knitted together the moment you noticed how crazy you sounded.

You think though that this is not important, not when you are going through something like this.

And Taehyung is just as crazy as you and all of your friends combined - that’s saying a lot because you are friends with Kim Seokjin, so he is not one to judge you.

He covers his mouth with a fist, turning his laugh into a cough before you see it, “a demon?”

“Well,” you click your tongue. “Yeah, maybe some kind of spiritual shit that I don’t have the mental stability to deal with.”

Is just now that you take a good look in Taehyung and see he is wearing a purple suit, and his hair is sprayed with a bright green color. You pout, “I forgot about that.”

“What are you waiting for now that you are here?” He grabs you by the shoulder and guide you to his room, running back to grab your bag to place it gently in your arms.

He did not hear a word you said?

“I-“ you look at him hesitantly before deciding that you can talk to him about it later. You don’t want to ruin his halloween night with something that you hope is just inside of your head, “I don’t have my fantasy here with me.”

He raises one eyebrow at you before entering the room and disappearing inside of the closet. The sound of his voice comes low from there when he calls for your name.

“Here you go,” he hands you a paper bag after you met him and when you grab and open it your jaw drop.

“B-but how?” your confused expression is too cute for him to deal with when you see your Batman fantasy inside the bag, so he bend over you to kiss your cheek.

Sure, you bought it together but you know you took it home with you.

You were sure, and now you are scared of going mad at such a young age. What a waste.

Taehyung is once again holding his laugh back in his throat because of the way you look at him. He move to the left little enough to peck your nose and then he is shutting the door behind him to give you some privacy.

“Don’t take too long, I’ll need help with my makeup!” You hear his voice through the door and sigh in defeat.

“Stop moving,”

“Sorry.” He said for the nth time.

“Shush, Tae,” you rub your thumb over his mouth until the red lipstick is all smudged.

You low your hand but can’t take your eyes off of his lips; not that you never noticed but today they are specially soft. They felt soft under your fingers too. Somehow you can even feel it against yours. And you wonder if- “Done!”

Taehyung almost fall off the chair with your outburst and you are stepping back until the back of your knees hits the couch.

You don’t know that, but he was wondering the same thing. Not how your lips felt - that he knew, but about kissing you. And he was just relieved as you were because of your outburst, though the reasons differed.

He watched the way you turned to the mirror and nervously straightened your clothes, a side smile on his face and heart fluttering. You have no idea how excited he is to that party, yet he wasn’t about to deny how nervous he felt. What if his friends were all wrong?

“Why is it called a Batman fantasy when it’s a dress?” You say looking down at your clothes.

He stands up and approach you from behind, holding your back against his chest and resting his chin on the crown of your head, “because it was made for man to look at.”

You elbow him on the stomach playfully, and he moves from behind you with a pained expression. You stick your tongue out to him teasingly and he pinch your arm until you pull him away.

“Child,” he said.

You shrugged, grabbing your phone from the Batman’s utility belt, “c’me here so we can take a nice pic,”

He posed at your side, and in the end after so many pictures and selfies you were laughing at each other’s silly faces.

“Hey, we look good,” you had your eyes in one of the pictures, but he was watching your reflection from the mirror.

He said softly that yes, we do. And your eyes moved from the bright screen to meet his.

How come he looks so hot dressed as the fucking Joker?

The silence that engulfed the room is not weird, but the way the air shifts around you two and how you feel the tension between your bodies makes you gulp, almost thanking loudly when both yours and Taehyung’s phones buzz in your hands.

He is the one to read the message and pull you by the hand out of the house and towards his car, “we should get going, they are waiting for us.”

You don’t know if it was the greatest or worst timing your friends had.

A/N: this was a halloween special that was updated too late after halloween but at least it was out haha thank you for reading and please let me know what you think about this first part!

#btssmutclub #kwritersworldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic

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arrianna21 · 6 years ago

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~Caramel Eyes, Mocha Paws~ Chapter 1

They said you were a beast, a monster, but I can see the man within you. You two are a part of each other, two souls in one body. You protect me from the darkness and I bring forth the light.

Word Count: 7,882

Shutting off the lights to the coffee shop, you close the door before locking it, pulling on the handle to make sure it doesn’t budge. Closing up and being the last one to leave never bothered you, not even on a night like tonight, you actually enjoyed the quiet air that encompassed the area as people began to turn in for the evening. Checking to make sure you had your phone, purse, and other essential items, you turn around and walk down the nearly empty sidewalk, passing carved pumpkins and smiling scarecrows.

It was late Halloween night, almost near midnight according to your phone and most of the kids had already come through to collect all the free candy they could. Your manager had wanted to stay open a little longer than usual in case some tired parents or babysitters wanted to get some coffee to recharge before heading back out to follow their little trick-or-treaters who were on a scavenger hunting rampage.

A group of teenagers come towards you, a mixture of boys and girls who were probably going to some party if their fake bloody outfits and bright neon costumes were any indication. The girls squeal while the guys pretend to chase them around, plastic knives held up high as they all run by you.

Most of the shops were already closed, their windows dark and vacant of life as everyone ventured home for the evening. Though the town square was practically empty, minus one or two groups of people and a handful of drunk adults, you were at ease as you continued your walk home.

Reaching the corner, you turn down the dirt path, ignoring the cement route and instead opting for the forest. While dangerous in theory, you preferred the scenic route instead of the boring way for two reasons. One, it was a faster way to your house, the distance was only a 15-minute walk compared to the 30 that it took to go around and two, you would much rather have nature as your company than people. Since you constantly dealt with people all day, this gave you the chance to unwind and spend some time alone.

As orange and brown leaves crunch under your feet with your shadow following closely behind, illuminated by the light poles on either side of the trail, you enter the canopy of tall trees. Chirping crickets sing around you while the wind ruffles the near bare branches, the sounds combining into a comfortable ambience.

Eventually, the lights become sparse as you venture further into Mother Nature’s territory and you have to rely on the moon’s bright glow as it hovers above you in the sky. Despite the supposed creepy atmosphere, you continue walking normally, unfazed in the slightest while you keep to the worn path. You’re about halfway home, having been lost in your thoughts until you hear something skitter up a tree. The sound isn’t enough to startle you, merely breaking your train of thought in the process but with the noise comes a realization.

The crickets are silent. Not even the wind was blowing. In fact, the entirety of the woods seems to be at a standstill and your casual gait comes to a stop.

You’ve lived here your whole life and never have you felt unsafe within the forest. Then again, you don’t remember venturing out at night on Halloween. At least, not by yourself.

Taking a cautious step forward, the wind picks up suddenly, cold air howling as it whistles in between the branches. You shiver, but proceed forward when the breeze settles. An owl hoots nearby and you flinch.

Picking up the pace, you walk faster, for once not wanting to stick around the normally quaint woods. You grip your purse tighter, fingers digging into the shoulder strap. Something rustles the fallen leaves behind you, but you resist the urge to look back even though the hair at the base of your neck stands on end and you hear the sound getting louder.

It was coming closer.

You’re vulnerable being out in the open so you veer to the side, moving off the main trail and ducking within the tree line. Making sure your figure is somewhat hidden, you look back and find nothing. Whatever it was had vanished into thin air.

Deciding to play it safe, you remain where you are and continue forward, keeping an eye on the path as you walk. The calm wind returns to ruffle the plants, putting your mind at ease once more. After a certain point you have to use the light from your phone to see where you’re stepping, nearly tripping over tree stumps twice in the past few minutes. You’re so focused on what’s in front of you that you mindlessly continue going straight. A low hanging branch brushes your head and you remember to actually look up from the ground. When you only see clusters of trees in the direction of the supposed trail, horror floods your system.

You hadn’t been paying attention, too distracted by where you were stepping that you had completely forgotten the trail curves to the right. Mentally cursing your stupidity, you immediately head in the proper direction, hoping that you can correct your mistake by simply altering your path. If luck was on your side, then you should be able to find the dirt trail soon. A few minutes later, you see a faint glow ahead of you. It looked like one of the lamps and your pace quickens in excitement.

Although your joy is short-lived when you get closer and find the light gone. There was no lamp and no sign of the trail either, only the thicket of trees surrounding you. Turning around, the glow you had been following is now pulsating in another direction this time. Looking back to the way you originally saw it, you catch the orb for a split second before it disappears and pops up to your left.

You can’t remember which way you were going. Before panic fills your brain, you desperately check your phone and look for a compass that might be installed. You find it and click on the icon, waiting as it loads. Once it does, the dial appears on your screen and you breathe a sigh of relief. Knowing that your home was to the east, you watch the red needle spin as it tries to find north.

A minute passes and the compass is still rapidly spinning. When it doesn’t slow down after three minutes dread creeps into your system. You were officially lost. Opening your contacts, you look for your house number and call it, but a notification appears on your screen when you click.

No signal.

Closing the pop-up, you try again and get the same response. You groan, racking your brain with different options as you think of a new plan but nothing comes to mind. That is, until you see the golden light lurking behind a tree not far from where you are. You bite your lip, wondering if you should risk following the light or attempt to find your way out on your own. Rubbing your hand against your forehead, you put your phone away and carefully approach the floating light.

When the glowing thing notices you coming closer, it bobs rapidly before backing away, as if it wanted to lead you somewhere. It wouldn’t let you get close, the orb disappearing and reappearing after a certain point.

You’re not sure how long you end up walking, but eventually you see a break in the trees ahead. Sprinting ahead, you don’t wait for the light to guide you before you’re shoving thin branches aside, fulling expecting to see the trail you had previously lost.

To your dismay, it’s not the path, but rather a small clearing. Directly across from you was another forest, which was completely black. No, it wasn’t because it was nighttime, the trees and everything surrounding them were the literal color of ebony. Thick fog wrapped around the base of the trees, preventing you from seeing inside.

You hear a bubbling sound and you turn to find the light you had been chasing floating next to you. Its glow brightens and it floats in the direction of the trees, pausing as if waiting for you to follow. There was no way you were going in that forest.

Taking a step back, you watch the shimmering mist morph into an angry red, form shuddering in irritation. It flies towards you and you feel a burning sensation on your arm where the thing comes into contact with your skin.

Your feet begin to walk forward on their own and you pull away, trying to regain control of your body. Though you resist, you find yourself slowly losing control of your wits, the urge to give in increasingly stronger with each passing second. In an attempt to stop the light, you resort to hitting it with your purse but the bag merely goes through it. The thing didn’t even seem annoyed at your desperate efforts.

When you’re halfway across the clearing, you watch as a group of humanoids stomp out from the thicket. Two dozen or so figures emerge through the fog and it’s hard to tell exactly how many of them there are. The green humanoids weren’t tall, probably around three feet, but the big clubs and sharp spears made up for their lack of height.

One of the creatures towards the front had a horned helmet on its head and when it sees you approaching with the glowing mist, it utters something in a strange language. The shimmering thing that was currently engulfing your arm suddenly lets go, finally seeming to notice your unexpected welcome party. It gives a burbling cry, color returning to yellow, but more pale and sickly than before and it flits away, disappearing into the black forest, leaving you behind with the band of humanlike creatures.

With the glowing being now gone, the group returns its attention to you and you wonder how far you could run before they caught up. As the beings panted in anticipation, getting more and more antsy while they stood in place with weapons at the ready, you figured the odds weren’t good.

Carefully, you slip your hand into your purse and shuffle the items inside until your fingers close around a small bottle. You back away slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements and give them a reason to attack. The one with the helmet sniffs the air a few times and begins coming towards you, mace clutched in its hand.

Your steps quicken as you try to keep your distance from it and it notices, giving an angry screech at your retreat. It closes the small gap separating you two and swings.

The stone mace hits your legs hard and you fall back with a grunt. Raising its weapon high in the air, it aims for your head and you hold your arm out, pulling the trigger of the bottle. Mist shoots out of the can as you spray the creature with pepper spray. Its reaction is immediate as it screeches in pain. Now blinded by the spice, it flails madly and scratches at its eyes while its comrades watch in confusion. The creature howls in agony before resorting to bashing at its face with its own weapon when the burning doesn’t cease.

Six of the creatures unfreeze and run towards you to which you also spray them down, internally grateful the spraying distance was far enough. Some get hit with the white mist and they also start shrieking in terror, either copying what their leader was doing by hitting themselves or dropping their weapons altogether and running away in a blind panic. One accidentally hits its companion as it flails, causing the other to get upset and fight back. With their leader incapacitated and their companions battling each other, the rest of the group can only stare in confusion as they watch the scene unfold though some decide to join the fight.

Scrambling to your feet, you prepare to run while they are distracted but you don’t see the two green creatures flanking you before one whacks you in the ribs with its club. Your body meets the earth once again but you end up losing your grip on the bottle and it rolls away. You reach to grab it but the other monster knocks it away and the spray gets lost in all the chaos. Kicking your leg, you hit the one by your feet and it stumbles while you try to get up.

A spear pierces the dirt by your head and you scream, crawling away from it. One of the creatures nearly falls on top of you while you skitter around the mass of bodies, avoiding stumbling feet and swinging weapons.

Something grabs your leg. Looking over your shoulder you see the creature with the spear dragging you closer, chipped nails digging into your pants. Its wart speckled face is filled with glee as it yanks you forward.

Another scream rips from your throat as you grab onto the blades of grass to keep from being pulled back. It doesn’t work as the green fibers are ripped from their roots and then you are flipped onto your back. The green humanoid continues to drag you towards the black mass of trees and just when you prepare yourself to meet your end, a roar shatters through the night.

Everyone freezes and turns their attention to the sound. From your position on the ground, you see a tall figure hidden within the tree line, coming from your side of the forest. Glowing red eyes peer through the branches and the creature shoves through, body easily breaking the branches that stick out in its path. In shock, you watch the giant werewolf step out into the open and stand at its full height on its hind legs. The lupine figure stood tall, glaring at the scene laid out before it.

Your wide eyes meet its bright ruby orbs and the werewolf’s eyes narrow. A bass-like rumbling growl vibrates from within its frame, the sound sending a tremor across the earth, escalating until you feel it shake in your bones. The brown werewolf throws its head back as it releases a howl before sprinting towards the mass of creatures, large gait closing the gap within seconds.

A few of the green humanoids prepare themselves, readying their weapons with some charging forward while the others take on a defensive position. The one creature holding onto your leg resumes dragging you across the space and into the decaying forest. Your other limb not clutched in its grasp kicks out though it doesn’t deter it from its mission as it merely snarls at you and you cringe.

You feel the heavy pounding footsteps as something runs into the pile of bodies, plowing through the creatures as if they were nothing more than flimsy cattail reeds. Suddenly, the werewolf is standing over your fallen form as it sinks its jaws into the smaller monster’s neck that has you in its clutches and there’s an audible crunch of bone. The large animal lifts its head and roars again, the tremors reverberating the ground which angers the short humanoids.

The remaining creatures give a cry of their own and rush the gigantic beast who swipes at the first wave, sharp claws slashing into short bodies, knocking them off to the side. It steps in front of you, keeping its body in between yours and the miniature creatures. While they’re all engaged in combat, you manage to get to your feet, keeping low to the ground as you run in the opposite direction.

Reaching the tree line that houses your safety, you hear a short yelp and though you tell yourself not to, you end up looking behind you anyway. While the wolf was currently holding its own, the small creatures were retaliating by attacking all at once. Though the brown-haired beast continues to bite and claw at them, it couldn’t deter them all and you watch as one green humanoid sinks its spear into the werewolf’s back, though the poor angle resulted in it only partially catching its hide. Another humanoid takes advantage of the beast’s distraction and bites into its hind leg. The wolf roars in anger, smashing the short being’s skull in with its fist.

Though the green humanoids numbers dwindled, a dozen of them were still standing and while you were sure the wolf could finish off the rest, you were afraid it might get overwhelmed at some point.

Instincts scream at you to run and yet you choose to ignore them, instead reaching a decision when three of the creatures latch onto the wolf’s body, screeching and sinking their nails into its torso.

Frantically, you scrounge around for a weapon since your pepper spray was hidden somewhere amongst the bodies before you opt for a relatively sharp looking tree branch. You send a silent apology to the tree before ripping the slender limb off and running back towards the fight with your makeshift weapon.

By the time you get close, the werewolf has managed to fling one green creature off and was attempting to get rid of the other two, but the others at its feet were making it difficult, effectively breaking its concentration with their own assaults. Thankfully, none of them were paying attention to your approach, giving you the chance to swing your branch and whacking one of the unsuspecting green creatures in the back.

It falls down but tries to get up to which you hit it again and this time it stays down. The other humanoid closest to you shrieks in retaliation for its fallen companion and grabs your branch. You hang onto it, keeping a grip on the bark as you engage in an awkward tug of war with the short monster. It yanks you forward and you stumble as a result, but remain steadfast in holding onto your weapon.

That is, until teeth are clamping around your ankle. You scream and ultimately let go of your branch as you look down to find the first creature you knocked over biting into your leg.

Before you can react, a large paw slams into the green body, crushing its spine in the process and you jerk back, glad when the jaw relaxes its hold on your foot. The werewolf seems to go into a frenzy as it quickly dispatches the remaining monsters, claws cutting into flesh and flinging blood everywhere as a result. One by one, each humanoid goes down until the rest end up fleeing into the forest, dragging their wounded and leaving the dead behind them. Only the one that stole your branch remains. Although it doesn’t get a chance to put up a fight as the beast bites its head and flings the small body into the black forest where it lands with a thud somewhere inside.

You watch as the werewolf surveys the now desolate area before tilting its head back and releasing a loud howl of victory. Flinching at the sound, you take that as your queue to leave, taking a step back, only to collapse when your ankle throbs dully. Not wanting to miss your opportunity, you resort to crawling, grunting lightly as you will your body to move faster though your tired limbs make it difficult.

Having finished its howl, the werewolf jerks its head towards you, bright red eyes focusing on your fallen form and your backwards crawl turns into a skitter as you retreat to the safety of the tree line. The beast follows after you, each step it takes sending a light shudder across the grass. Your back ends up against a tree, preventing you from continuing back and you fearfully watch the approaching beast.

When it’s standing above you, it bends down right in front of you, going down to all four legs, and you pant in trepidation at the close sight. The werewolf leans forward and you pant heavily, head digging against the bark as you try to keep away but it’s futile as it gets closer until you can hear the saliva sloshing around in its mouth. Its red eyes seem to glow in the darkness, head directly in front of you as it stares, maw nearly touching you as it begins to sniff you. Large bursts of air fan your face as the wolf pushes its snout into your hair, fur and breath tickling your cheek, trailing down to your neck.

You whimper and the sound surprises it, the brown colored beast stopping its inspection to instead watch you with golden eyes. You blink in confusion at the shift in eye color you just witnessed. Though it was odd, you did feel slightly more at ease now that its irises weren’t the color of blood. Despite the color change your body is still frozen, not wanting to move or even make a single sound. When you’re still again, it continues its prodding, snout bumping the underside of your jaw and the cold nose startles you. You can’t help the flinch that follows. The wolf doesn’t stop this time, merely sniffing your upper body while you remain pinned against the tree. Its hot breath warms your skin, but shivers still encompass your frame as fear stays coursing through your bloodstream.

As its head leans next to yours, you try to avoid making eye contact, not wanting to make any more sudden movements. The animal steps to the side, still keeping close to your curled body. You’re not sure what the wolf is doing, its maw was now at the back of your neck and you could still feel the quick puffs of breath.

Soon enough, you get your answer. Sharp teeth scrape against your neck and you nearly cry out in terror at the sensation, thinking you have finally met your end. Your scared thoughts are wrong however, as you feel yourself being lifted by the back of your shirt, body rising in the air.

You had no idea why it was picking you up and you can only dangle helplessly as the werewolf proceeds to walk forward with you dangling from its mouth like a piece of meat. To your surprise, you feel yourself lowered to the ground before you are placed on your feet. Cautiously, you turn around to find the wolf standing tall behind you, looming figure easily towering above you. It stares down at you and you do the same, the two of you seemingly locked in a trance.

The werewolf gives a huff and the gust of air hits you directly. When you don’t move it grunts and nods its head as if telling you to turn around to which you do. Facing back the other way, you feel its head give a gentle nudge against your back, though the force sends you stumbling forward and it bites your shirt to pull you upright with a snort. You’re hesitant, not wanting to move for multiple reasons, but you’d rather not anger the creature so you force yourself to take a step. Although, you don’t get more than two or three steps before your legs give out from underneath you. A whine sounds from above you and you feel a cold snout prodding your back. The werewolf crouches low, ruby eyes watching you inquisitively.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell it, though you weren’t sure why you felt the need to explain yourself.

It cocks its head to the side at your words. You reach down to pull up your pant leg, revealing the slow forming bruise on your ankle. Carefully poking it with your finger, you’re met with a harsh throb. While it wasn’t broken nor bleeding, thankfully, you knew it would be sore for a few days at least. The werewolf crouches down, wet nose barely coming into contact with your skin as it sniffs a couple of times. Its red tongue snakes out and begins licking your wound, the warm muscle coating your leg with its saliva in an attempt to comfort you. Once it has effectively finished its soothing gesture, the werewolf moves behind you.

Teeth tug at your shirt again and you are pulled up to stand. Wobbly legs barely support you, but you don’t get a chance to stabilize yourself before you’re picked up and engulfed in warm fur. The werewolf holds you tightly to its broad chest and starts walking. You don’t move, not even wanting to breathe, too afraid that you’ll hyperventilate, but the creature seems at ease as it steps through the forest with you cradled in its arms.

The woods are quiet except for the snapping of shrubbery that are crushed under the wolf’s powerful footsteps. Eventually you manage to calm down, stiff muscles easing little by little while you continue going to some unknown location. The dark trees seem to morph together, turning into one mass with multiple limbs, the scraggly branches being shoved aside while the beast moves passed. Between the strangely peaceful atmosphere and the wolf’s rhythmic movements, you feel yourself drifting though you refuse to close your eyes.

A crow caws and your body jerks in surprise, startling the wolf who chuffs lightly, its hackles rising. You see the black bird hopping on a branch a few trees in front of you and your companion notices your pointed gaze. When you pass the elm, the bird squawks once more and the wolf gives a short bark before the crow jumps down to another branch. It doesn’t make any more noise, merely watching with its beady eyes and you remain tense after the interaction.

There’s a soft rumbling that vibrates your body and you realize it’s coming from the wolf. The beast continues its rumbling purr, the feeling puts you at ease and you let your head lean against the werewolf’s shoulder. It brings you closer into its embrace, jaw resting above the top of your head.

After a few more minutes, you see light in the distance and thinning trees reveal your house nestled in the open. You blink in surprise, your guide stepping out from the woods until it’s standing in front of the tree line before setting you on your feet.

“How did you-?” your question unsurprisingly goes answered and you turn to find the werewolf staring down at you, amber eyes unblinking. It nudges you much gentler than before, pushing you towards your home. You walk forward, being mindful of your bruised ankle and the ground shakes as the beast follows close behind.

Nearing the front door, you see your mom standing on the porch. She hasn’t noticed you yet and you stop short, turning back to stare at the wolf standing over you.

“Thank you,” you whisper to the beast who grunts in affirmation, chocolate ears flicking ever so slightly. It felt ridiculous to thank a giant werewolf, but it did save your life and you felt it was owed some form of gratitude. “I really appreciate what you did for me.” The werewolf leans forward and its snout touches your forehead, hot air fanning your face when it huffs.

“Y/N, is that you?”

Hearing your mother’s voice, you spin around and watch as she runs down the stairs, peering frantically into the darkness. You don’t know how much she can see in the darkness, but you know it won’t be hard to miss the looming werewolf behind you.

“Yeah, mom, it’s just me!” You yell back, before turning to the wolf who was still standing there. “Umm, you might want to go now.”

It stares, not making any attempt to move.

“Go, before she sees you.”

“Y/N?” She was getting closer and you rush towards her, hoping to cut her off before she came around the side. From behind, you hear rustling and something popping but you’re not sure what it is since your mom turns the corner before you can look. You run into each other even though you try to stop, but she merely pulls you into a hug. “There you are. Were you with some…one?” Her eyes widen as she looks over your shoulder and you cringe.

“Mom, I can explain,” you try to reassure her as she steps around you to look at the wolf.

No, you couldn’t. You couldn’t explain the now four-legged animal sitting behind you, gold eyes watching the two of you nonchalantly. Your companion had somehow reduced its size, the massive beast shifting into that of a normal wolf though it was still a little tall. If one didn’t know better, it could easily be mistaken for a regular dog.

“Who’s your friend, honey?” Your mom asks, coming forward to look at the mocha-colored wolf who was staring pensively back at her.

Crossing your arms, you can only shrug. “He’s just a…dog I found in the forest when I was walking home. He was keeping me company on my walk home.” Why you went with the male pronoun was beyond you. You hadn’t been paying attention to its gender when it was busy killing those green humanoids.

She crouches down, staring at it carefully before holding her hand out to it, palm raised. You hesitate, desperately hoping it doesn’t try to take a bit out of your mom. Though it’s shown no aggressive behavior towards you this entire time, you weren’t sure if the same kindness would be applied to your mother. The wolf sniffs her open palm once and returns to staring. “What a lovely…dog. It’s a little big, isn’t it?”

You shrug again. “Maybe he’s eating good.” His diet probably consisted of lots of meat from various creatures, like little green beings who wielded spears and clubs at people.

“Maybe,” she replies, but you don’t miss the hesitation in her voice. Your mom stands and smiles at you. “Well, it was nice of him to walk you home but it’s getting late. We don’t want any spooky ghosts visiting tonight,” she jokes, tickling your sides with her fingers. “Come on, there’s some leftover caramel apples waiting for us inside.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon. I’m just gonna say goodbye to--my friend I guess,” you finish lamely. Your mother smiles and nods before heading to the door where you hear it click soon after.

You look down and find the wolf still sitting, not having moved at all. “Good thinking.”

It gives a low bark of agreement before standing on all four limbs. At its full height, you could see it was significantly shorter than on two legs, though its head still reaches your torso and you gaze down while it stares up. “I really appreciate you helping me out. Take care of yourself.” Now you really felt ridiculous.

To your surprise, the wolf nods and pushes its head to your stomach, pressing lightly before turning around and walking towards the trees. You stand there, watching its retreating figure until the animal disappears into the woods.

~*~

Reference number 913W10. Your eyes scan the rows of old books going from one side, past the archway, to the other. Back and forth you went, trying to find the book you were looking for.

It’s like the librarians who had organized the archives section completely skipped 913. On the left was 912 and on the right was 914. You stood in the middle of the archway, wondering where 913 was if not in the middle, until you decide to look up.

There were two shelves right above the archway where the top part of the bookshelf was still connected. Glancing across both sides of the arched shelf, you realize that there’s no ladder or stool in sight. You pace across all the aisles in the large room but you’re unable to find anything that could be useful to you.

The library was going to be closing soon and you didn’t feel like walking down three flights of stairs just to find someone from the practically empty help desk. You sighed, stuffing the sticky note with the reference number back into your pocket before grabbing onto the old wood. There was no one else inside the archives so at least you won’t be caught scaling the walls like an awkward monkey.

You give a strained grunt, heaving yourself upwards as your fingers dig into the worn and chipped shelves, shoes occasionally slipping as you attempt to climb. This was definitely not the smartest idea you’ve conjured up, especially with your bruised ankle that was still a bit sore from your Halloween escapade, but at this point you didn’t have any other options coming to mind. When your arms reach the beginning of the arch, you push yourself up with your legs, stretching as far as you can with one hand until you can grab the bottom lip.

Another step and you are able to see the books at the very top. There was a small metal sign drilled into the lower ledge with a genre engraved in it. It read “Historical Myths” and you knew this was the spot. Your eyes scan the rows until you come across a leather blue book with the label 913W10. Finally.

Cautiously, you relax the tight grip your hand has on the wooden shelf and slowly reach for the book. You ease it from its space and turn it so you can see the cover.

Werewolves from Ancient Times to Present Century.

Your finger caresses the soft leather fondly. After your encounter in the woods with those creatures and that wolf three nights ago, you knew for a fact that you had come face to face with the supernatural. While you weren’t exactly sure what those green humanoids or that glowing orb were, you did have a few guesses. The most identifiable creature was the wolf, who could apparently shift from its two-legged form to that of four.

Doing a quick search on your local library’s database, you were surprised to find such an array of books about the supernatural available. No wonder the people in your town always acted superstitious. Just as you were about to start climbing back down you catch sight of another book.

Creatures of the Night: An Encyclopedia on the Scientific Aspects of Vampires, Werewolves, and More.

You bite your lip. Maybe you should look at the rest of the leather-bound texts before you leave. Holding onto your first chosen book, you scramble to find a place to put it, but the shelves were too narrow for it to lay flat. You look down towards the ground, the floor wasn’t too far away. Stretching your arm as far as it can go, you release the book, wincing slightly when you hear it hit the hardwood floor with a loud thump. That was the only way you were going to be able to get the books down without you having to try and balance them on your head or something to that extent.

With the shelf cleared of obstacles, you reach for the book that caught your interest, sliding the thick tome from its place before sending it to the floor as well where you hear it land with a booming thud. Hopefully the books were durable enough that they wouldn’t accidentally collapse into a pile of dust. Turning back to the rows of books, you begin skimming through the titles.

Ghouls of the Underworld. Pass.

Witches of Light and Darkness. Pass.

A Guide to Shape Shifters and Their Traits. Taking that one, you think to yourself as you toss it behind you. Thud.

Avoiding the Temptation of Demons. Pass.

Beyond the Skies: The Extraterrestrials Among Us. Pass.

Fables or Folklore: What’s in Your City? It sounded cheesy, but you figured why the hell not. Thud.

Supernatural Creatures Walking Among Us. Thud.

Noises in the Shadows: Banshees or Sirens? Pass.

Fantasy’s Notorious Monsters: Secrets of the Elements. Thud.

Everything else dealt with famous stories and different interpretations about them so you decide you have plenty already. A quick glance to the floor shows five books splayed across in a hapless manner, most of them wide open while only one, the very first one you had thrown, was closed shut. You could imagine the librarians and the fits they would have if they saw the current state of their books.

Facing the giant shelf once more, you see a glint of light coming from the far end you were dangling from. When you had readjusted yourself, the light from the fluorescent beams hanging above you had reflected off of a small black book lined with etchings that seemed to almost glimmer.

You can’t find a title on the bind and curiosity soon gets the best of you as you attempt to retrieve the strange paperback. It’s not on your side of the archway, but instead leaning right up against the divider on the other side. Straining to extend your body, you stretch your arm although you’re just barely out of reach. You lunge across while trying to keep a steady grip with your one hand and foot which aches in protest.

Two things happen simultaneously. Your fingers manage to snatch the desired book that had captured your attention. Unfortunately, the limbs that were supposed to keep you in place had grown tired from staying in such a difficult position and so your sweaty hand ends up slipping off the wood, sore leg giving in as well.

A shriek falls from your lips, following after your body as you watch the ceiling shrink under your wide gaze. Gravity is pulling you backwards and there’s nothing for you to grab onto so you’re left to merely flailing your arms and legs in fear. Bracing for impact, you prepare yourself for the merciless wooden planks that will definitely leave a mark.

The harsh collision never comes though as you slam into something that isn’t the floor. Not to say that it isn’t a solid landing because the air still leaves your lungs in a harsh whoosh as your head bangs into something else with a painful thump.

It’s quiet for a few seconds except for your rapid breathing and elevated heartrate. The book had somehow remained tightly clutched in your hand and you let it go where it falls to the floor.

Lifting your head, you attempt to sit up, but are unable to when you realize there are two arms securely wrapped your waist and you can feel the flex in the banded muscles as they rest on top of you. It is then that you hear the sound of someone breathing beneath you which you failed to notice as the blood was too busy rushing to your head.

“You know; a help desk is downstairs for a reason. It’s a thing people use when they need assistance in finding books. That also includes reaching for them.” A deep voice grunts from underneath you. Not good. Not only did this mean that you were currently crushing another person with your weight, but said person also didn’t sound too pleased with the situation.

A spew of curses spit from your brain as you internally panic. You’re stuck between apologizing profusely and defending your actions so your response morphs into a mixture of, “I’m so sorry, I thought I could get the books myself.” You go to scramble off of the person and this time the strong arms around your torso release you. Rolling onto the floor, you sit back on your knees to see who you were squishing while the stranger pushes himself upright with a grunt.

If you weren’t embarrassed before, then you are absolutely mortified now. Mocha-colored hair lay sticking up in various places, the guy’s hoodie having been knocked back by your momentum, with pink lips pressed into a thin line, but that’s not what causes you to go brain dead for a split second. No, it was the amber eyes that stare intensely at you, warm gold practically dripping with…an emotion you can’t quite place. Almost like a combination of fondness and amusement.

Yet, whatever you think you see soon fades into a cool chocolate, the stranger’s expression shifting from entertained to blasé, a dark brow quirking up an inch while you continue to stare. You blink rapidly, wondering if you were imagining the change in color and the man leans forward, the bright lights above you reflecting in his eyes as he snaps his fingers a few times. It must have just been the fluorescent bulbs making you see things is what your brain says but another part of you denies that speculation.

“Hey, you good? Honestly your head should be fine considering how I was the one to meet both the floor and you at the same time,” the guy scoffs, effectively breaking you from your inner thoughts. His hand lightly ruffles his hair back into a more suitable style before returning his hood to its original position.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, “I thought I was the only one up here. You didn’t get hurt or anything did you?” you shyly ask. He didn’t seem to have any cuts or bruises that were visible at least.

He shakes his head, “No, I’m fine,” is his smooth reply before he’s reaching for the book you had left beside him, the nameless one you so carelessly tried to take from the top shelf. The stranger opens it to the first page and reads the title aloud. “Werewolves Inside and Out. You a fan or something?” His question is filled with humor and you feel your face heat up.

“It’s more curiosity than anything,” you admit. “I just think they’re interesting and I want to know more about them.” You awkwardly scooch forward on your knees as you begin collecting the other fallen books, checking the damage as you do, but luckily even the ones that had landed in odd positions were okay. At least you won’t have to worry about paying any large fines for your recklessness.

“You act like werewolves are real or something.” The man notes, grabbing another one of the leather-bound books as he examines each cover thoughtfully.

They are, you think silently, but you won’t say it out loud knowing that you’ll just sound crazy. After your terrifying encounter just days ago, you definitely remembered what you had witnessed.

“You never know,” is the answer you finally give him. Both of you reach for the last book, but his hand touches it before you so your fingers end up resting on top of his.

Your hand becomes encased with warmth as your nerve endings flicker at the sensation. It wasn’t due to some magical connection, although you would never admit that a chill did shoot up your arm the moment you made physical contact, no, his hand was just abnormally hot. You jerk your head up in surprise, another apology fully prepared to leave your lips, but the words die in your mouth at the sight of swirling amber mixing with chocolate brown, the colors forming a shining caramel.

You can’t help but squint and lean closer, but the guy blinks and his irises are back to a normal hue of brown. Maybe your brain really was playing tricks on you. At this rate, you might start mistaking kids for those miniature green creatures. A loud thud startles you and you jump as the stranger puts the last book on your growing pile.

“Did you really hit your head that hard or do you always just stare at people?” he asks, bringing you out of your reverie and cutting off any questions you meant to ask while he shakes his bangs from his eyes, the strands splaying across his forehead.

“No. At least I don’t think so.” Your hand touches your head and it doesn’t feel tender as you lightly prod around. “It’s just you’re really hot.” Silence ensues as the guy remains with a dead stare, eyes blinking not even once.

“Uh huh.” The two syllables he utters causes the synapses in your brain to start working again as your words finally register.

Fantastic. As if you weren’t acting weird enough.

You slap a hand over your mouth in horror while you attempt to explain yourself. “I meant temperature wise. No-not that you aren’t good looking, ah, I mean.” You were really digging yourself a big hole at this point with your superior communication skills. Shaking your head to rid yourself of the word scramble, you close your eyes briefly and try again.

“Okay, that came out wrong. While I do think you are attractive I was speaking more literally, mainly about your body heat.” Cringing internally, you close your eyes briefly but open them again when you don’t receive an answer only to find a pair of converse shoes in front of you. Looking up leads you passed dark jeans and a black hoodie until you are once again staring at the guy who is now standing with your stack of books in his hands.

You didn’t even hear him move. That observation is followed by the realization that you were still half-sitting on the floor and you scramble to your feet where the man wordlessly passes the pile of books to you. Muttering a soft thanks, you see his lips part as if he wants to say something but is interrupted by the loud speaker crackling to life.

This is a reminder that the library will be closing in 10 minutes. Please be sure you have gathered all your things before you leave the building. Thank you. The intercom shuts off with a click and the room is silent once more.

“Thanks again for your help and I’m sorry for…falling on you.”

He waves you off with a flick of his hand, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Right well, I’ll see you around I guess.” Your timid response is met by a blink and then a shrug.

“Probably. Have fun with your “research,”” his fingers bending and unbending in an air quote gesture, lips pulling into a smirk before he begins to walk in the opposite direction to go find whatever book or thing he originally came looking for in the first place you assume.

You turn around as well, heading to exit the archives when you hear, “Oh and wolf girl,” to which you spin around only to nearly run face first into a cotton hoodie, nose lightly grazing the soft fabric. The guy was so close to you that you could easily smell the scent of pine and cedar clinging to his clothes. Lifting your eyes, you find him watching you from beneath his dark hood and can barely see his eyes hidden within the curtain of his bangs.

“Try not to go exploring through the forests in the middle of the night. It’s not just fairy tales you should be afraid of, regular animals and people are more than enough.” And with that he leaves, turning the corner down some aisle as you are left standing in the middle of the archway, filled with plenty of curiosity and motivation.

A/N: Surprise, and Happy Halloween~ It was only a matter of time before I wrote a wolf!au because I love werewolves. Please let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated! Also who do you think the member is? Comment or send me an ask because I would love to hear your responses. Kudos if you tell me why you think it’s that member. Thank you again for reading!

#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts #wolf!BTS #wolf!au #fanfic #my writing #Caramel Eyes Mocha Paws

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