#gut punch (serial killer au)

[paperbackpieces-makemewhole]

When Enzo enters the room, both twins turn towards him, one grinning and one scowling. It seems like Aaron and Ace had been conversing, a rare enough occurrence, before he interrupted them. Judging by the looks they’re sending him, it’s highly likely that he’d been their subject.

“Enzo!” Ace exclaims, making his way over with a giggle, planting himself in front of his favorite friend. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes, and his grin is far more predatory than it should be. Taking the man’s hand, he pulls and pulls until he’s brought him closer to Aaron, who looks him up and down.

“Took you long enough. I was getting bored.”

Reaching up, he cups his employee’s face with both hands to bring him down for a kiss.

A curious hum can be heard, and this would usually prompt Aaron to tell his brother to leave them alone, but it doesn’t happen. Aaron just looks mildly annoyed for a second before biting down hard on Enzo’s lip.

Wandering hands tug at Enzo’s pants, a frustrated noise being drawn out of Ace when he can’t quite get them off.

“Have some fucking patience, you fucking freak,” Aaron scolds when he pulls away briefly, pushing Enzo back until his legs are hitting the desk and he forces the man up on it. Looking up at him, Aaron stalls for a second before tugging at his shirt, while Ace also hops up on the desk so he can grab onto Enzo.

“Well?”

The twins talking to each other on the same level is also a strange sight, one that makes Enzo feel like he's about to lose a year off his life somehow, especially when the conversation was obviously about him. He has to swallow down a feeling of dread.

Still he smiles at Ace when he starts to move closer. "Hi, sweetheart."

He lets himself be pulled closer, looking between the two with mild confusion. He isn't expecting the kiss, since his lip isn't bloody to his knowledge, though Aaron seems to be attempting to remedy that quickly and Enzo whimpers into the kiss when he's bitten.

It seems that Aaron is full of surprises today, given that Ace isn't shoo'd away the moment he shows any sort of interest in the situation.

He reaches down to undo his trousers, but is cut off by Aaron pushing him backwards, barely giving him time to catch his breath before he finds himself on the desk — a position he's been in more often than usual as of late.

"Wh- Uhm.." He looks between the two men once more, breathless and almost resembling a dear in headlights.

"Yes."

Gods help him.

[anosrepasi]

10 Character/10 Fandoms/10 Tags

Tagged by the wonderful @aeide :)

Nil (Horizon Dawn Zero/Forbidden West) - My current obsession I'm rotating around in my mind. What's not to love he's charming in the sense that his most common AU occupation is "Serial Killer." Will he kill you? Depends! Only if you suck, and he promises to never stab you in the back, he wants to look you in the eye if he tries to kill you. But actually, I find him utterly fascinating and in the context of HZD he's just. so nuanced it destroys me. This man has decades of c-ptsd and asks the question of what happens when someone drenched in violence is suddenly expected to stop fighting- the answer is, it takes a lot! I adore him.

Kassandra (AC:Odyssey) - Look the more I think about Kassandra and like the canon quests in that game the more I'm like. They did you wrong, girl. They did you so dirty. SHE JUST WANTS TO GO HOME. IT TAKES DECADES. HER STORY IS A FUSION OF THE ODYSSEY AND THE ILIAD. YOU CAN APPLY THEMES FROM BOTHA ND IT DRIVES ME INSANE. And. And then they say, all thsi you worked so hard for? Well. We have other things we need from you. I am going to chew through my arm.

Mizu (Blue Eye Samurai) - Look. I could link thousand upon thousands words of meta about Mizu and her/they're relationship to gender and existence as a mixed race individual in isolationist Japan. And it still wouldn't capture it all. And past that it's hot person brutally murdering people in absolutely fantastically animated fight scenes.

Vincent Valentine (Final Fantasy VII) - Look. He's my original blorbo. I saw 10 minutes of screen time of him in Advent Children and have been insane ever since. I bought and played through Dirge of Cerberus for him. Something about him apparently just imprinted on me as a child, I've been a lost cause ever since.

Xaden Riorson (Fourth Wing/Iron Flame) - These books are still relatively new so I'll hold my tongue since a lot of what I am obsessed with re: him is spoilers but oh my god. oh. my. god. buddy.

Axel (Kingdom Hearts) - Also an original blorbo from childhood, imprinted on him like a baby duck. His death in KH2 made me bawl. His entire storyline makes me sob, he's the reason why every single aspect of Roxas' story was a gut punch cause like. The best way to make people care about characters is give them someone who loves them then make it sad.

Charles Milton Porter (Bioshock 2: Minerva's Den) - Look. This dude's DLC made me cry. big cry. I still kinda get choked up when i think about it for a while. it's about the grief.

Kena: Bridge of Spirits - I can't choose a characters from this, so I just advise everyone to play this game. It's so good. You're going to be emotionally devastated. It's also about grief. Every character in this game is so so good and you will feel things.

Joe Miller (The Expanse) - He was not the first but he was my defining love of shitty noir space detectives. I loved him from when he was introduced to when he left the series and my love was rewarded so much. Holden and Amos were the runner up characters for this fandom.

Death (The Book Thief) - I read the book thief for the first time in 7th grade I think? Every day of my life since them on my commute to work or when on break I look at the sky and think about how Death would describe the taste of the colors. This book irrecoverably changed me from the day I read it and firmly cemented this Death as the death i hope is there at the end of everything, i love this version of it so much. This death is like. look. go read the book if you haven't had the opportunity.

Tagging for anyone who wants to do it: @ongreenergrasses @lobstermatriarch @airmidcelt @tirsynni @aevallare @duesternis @salsedine @avelera @thehoundkeeper @green-nbean

[gerec]

Hello! For fic rec meme: 2, 12, 17? 👀

2. A fic you’ve re-read several times

Everything by @kianspo but especially:

Curve Fitting

The weird thing is, Charles always introduces Raven as his sister, but he never calls Erik his brother. Erik would be bothered, except he prefers not to think of Charles as his brother, either. He can’t figure it out for four years, and then suddenly he can.

Or. A non-powered AU in which Sharon Xavier never remarries, and Charles 'adopts' not only Raven, but Erik too.

12. A fic you couldn’t stop reading once you started

I had no idea how much I needed this xmfc canon divergent au until i started reading it and then read all 73k in one sitting lol.

Contingency by populuxe

Erik kills Klaus Schmidt on New Year’s Day, 1961. In New York City two years later, he attends a lecture on the future of genetic mutation.

17. A fic you wish you could read again for the first time

I love dark fic and serial killer aus and this one still hits like a gut punch.

Rampage by wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe)

When police uncover evidence that notorious serial killer Magneto is obsessed with Professor Charles Xavier, they immediately move to put him into Witness Security. Only Xavier refuses. The police come up with trumped up charges to arrest him and thus keep him safe until they can apprehend the killer. Erik is not happy that the police have chosen to drag Charles into this and are now trying to keep him from him, and shows his displeasure the best way he knows how -- an increased body count.

Fic Recs (Ask Meme)

[paperbackpieces-makemewhole]

Leaning back against the door, Enzo stares at the ceiling for a moment, trying to discern if any of the blood on him was his. Sure enough, the cut on his lip, and another across his chest that did more damage to the shirt really, given that his entire chest is on display. The cut itself is very shallow though.

Looking forward again, he freezes for an inconceivable moment, staring at Oliver with slightly widened eyes. Someone lived here?

He should've controlled himself better; he knows that, he'd tried to. However, the rage overpowered his reason in the moment and now...

He's sitting on the floor against the door of an empty flat, his hands, face and shirt covered in blood, his jacket slipping off of his shoulders to reveal the sleeveless turtleneck he's wearing and his chest heaving as he tries to breathe.

Fuck, it was fun though.

@paperbackpieces-makemewhole

Maybe Oliver had grown to be slightly naive over the years, but while any other person would’ve seen this stranger and thought danger, he’s instead flooded with concern at the alluring disheveled sight of a man leaning back weakly against his front door. This certainly hasn’t been part of his non-existent evening plan.

Silently debating on whether or not he should approach the man or not — face creased slightly in nervous energy — he leisurely begins to approach the slumped over frame, looking over him for any sign of wounds.

[mickules]

Are you gonna do tumblr plus? Because you’re my favorite blog but I’m broke and have no money 😭

Oh. . .Oh nooooooooo

HA, yeah, no fear, I'm not signing up for tumbl's li'l scheme.

Art for me is a definitely a passion, but I've zero plans on monetising it at the moment since I'm lucky enough to make a decent wage driving trains. I don't even have ads enabled on my youtube cos making money from fanworks is a copyright nightmare that I don't want to navigate. That and navigating my tax return

(also tho, "favourite blog"!! AHH! you flatter me! :D)

[from this comic] @mortonmurphy Sorry for the so response there - I'm not so good at replying in a timely manner, but thank you so much for such a lovely, heartfelt ask! I totally sympathise with feeling intimidated; I've felt the same way sending asks before, it can be oddly daunting! I'm so happy to hear you liked that comic; It seems to have resonated with a lot of people and that's really so wonderful, just warms my heart! The Dangan cast have such good chemistry, there are infinite scenarios and dynamics to play with; Taka and Hina being supports for each other as survivors is a top tier hypothetical! DR + AA cross-overs are PEAK EXCELLENCE, they just fit so well together! Ace Attorney is an old, old friend to me, and I've had that [particular comic idea] sorta floating about the noggin, I'm really pleased with how it turned out :) Thanks so much! :D

----

@a-lien-kai (!! Oh!! :-O high praise that it's my nonsense that got you liking Taka :D Glad you're liking this strange little AU I've been having fun with!) good news; I've drawn a little Gundham before in [this dump] ! but I'll post him here again; before and after putting on his face for the day:

[from these asks here] Oh my absolute sympathies; being born to a family of morning people is a terrible fate.

---

from the [same ask dump] as the Gundham one ^ (:-) happy to hear you get smiles from my art!! thanks so much! :D) Resting Ishimaru Bitch face kills me XD, and Taka, Peko and Maki share such a similar intense energy, that I love the idea that it's a shared genetic family trait.

SORRY FOR THE DELAY THERE!! (might be a moot point, but I figure it's worth still answering!) Putting it on tumblr and tagging me should be a good way for me to find it, that's totally fine! I've also no problem with you mentioning my account name on AO3, that's A-OK by me ;) I appreciate you checking just in case. (also, gift fic!! I'm still like -> :-0!! so cool!)

---

Yesssss! It's a good sign when multiple people wanna share the same fic! I love the enthusiasm! "Trinkets" by Sapphin3 has a very interesting idea; I do enjoy people exploring how those who died in the killing game might react to the consequences of their untimely deaths, (and "Touch starved" is a short but very sweet look at some Taka/Hiro step-bro interactions) A+!

---

OH! I've read the first few chapters of "The Problem with Perfection" by DracotheDeathEatingCupcake, and I'm really digging the exploration of Taka as less self-assured, dealing with the anxiety caused by the constant pressure of the expectation he's under. It's got such a strong narrative voice, you really feel the stress and insecurities that Taka is fighting with, and the ending of ch.1 OOF what a GUT-PUNCH!

---

I've not read Killer Killer, but as a concept; a serial killer targeting serial killers is sincerely REALLY COOL, kinda like the whole 'Sparkling Justice' background character from SDR2, and more Mukuro is always appreciated. . . Though I do feel it'd work perfectly well as a stand-alone concept, outside of the Dangan universe, I might check it out.

---

I've also had some kind DMs along this vein and I'm very flattered by the interest, but I have to say that I'm not planning on doing requests or commissions, I do very much appreciate the enquiry however!

(I don't mean to single this particular asker out - especially since they don't have their own tumbl but thought it was a good opportunity to mention!)

@randomqueenkitcat1121 Absolutely Do! I hope you have a great time with it! You can get persona 4 golden on steam which is like a HD remake - the original came out on the PS2. I'll admit I've not managed to finish it yet cos I am capital B- BAD at video games, but it really explores some A+++ themes! (AHHH! what lovely compliments!! :D Glad you enjoy the dorks and their shenanigans! :D )

---

I think Avatar is a good show! I watched it a lot when I was younger, as it had a ton of re-runs on terrestrial tv. The world concept and building is excellent, and it works so well with how the plot requires a world spanning journey. The characters all have real rapport, and genuine growth across the series, all wrapped up in gorgeous animation, trés bien. In general I tend to gravitate towards more 'sci fi' concepts than 'fantasy/swords and sorcery' ones, so avatar is certainly an outlier there.

[from this fanart!] These suggestions all have REAL cryptid energy, and honestly; the idea of a free-range Hooty equivalent? Nightmares

[this post] and its [re-draw]

@cicicookie12 I too live the curse of pale ass Irish skin; you have my many sympathies, and my factor 50+ suncream.

---

@yaysof11037 I dunno why we're surprised - Taka's speedo is so in character it's ridiculous, how did we not all see this coming?

---

OK LOOK, I DID NOT MEAN TO FLATTEN HIS ASS! There are only so many ways to draw someone FACE DOWN ASS UP in a SPEEDO and not make it the WRONG SIDE OF SPICY

Speedos leave nothing to the imagination

consider it an optical illusion.

---

In general I'd have liked to have seen more one piece swimming costumes (like Komaru's from the promo image) for the sportier/shyer girls, and more abs on our strong women which is what they deserve damn it!

However, there does seem to be some thought put into matching the characters personalities which was a pleasant surprise to say the least. Sakura, Korekiyo, Chihiro and Kiibo's are PEAK; tho' I wish Sonia had kept her wetsuit, plus we were robbed of Kazuichi and Hajime's matching camo speedos, which would've upped our disappointing speedo count from 2 to a slightly better 4 It would've been hilarious if Celeste had remained fully clothed the whole time.

Fingers in his ass never left.

(next set of asks [about parent trap au]) (previous set of asks [mostly about takaaki/hiroko] )

[winterscaptain]

redamancy.

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: the moment you’ve all been waiting for...#5 makes an appearance! (thanks to kira @good-heavens-chris-evans for helping me not be a liar and gassing me up so i could post this tonight like i promised xoxo i love you so much) words: 5.56k warnings: descriptions of childbirth (nothing too gross or graphic), swearing, disgustingly sweet family content

summary: “what strange creatures brothers are!” - jane austen. au!august 2022

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist edited: january 9th, 2021

“Hey, Aaron?” You peer around the wall to the bedroom from your place on the master bath toilet. There isn't any urgency to your query, which would later make you both laugh until you can't breathe. 

Aaron has a book in his lap and reading glasses resting on his perfect nose, as is usual for bedtime. He turns a page. “Hm?”

“When you get to a good stopping point, can you grab the go bag?” 

“Yeah.” He gets up on autopilot, setting his book down. When he reaches the bedroom doorway, he freezes and turns over his shoulder “Wait. Why?”

“Oh, nothing extreme,” you say, your voice light. “My water just broke and I figured we might -“

Your name leaves his mouth in a laugh, and he trots back to you, helping you up and kneeling to assist you with your comfiest pair of pajama pants. You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder, stepping into one leg, then the other. Playfully, he snaps the stretchy waistband around you. He's still kneeling before you when he says, “You’re insane, you know that?”

You smile down at him and scrub your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch like a cat and closes his eyes. “You are too, I’d like to point out.”

He sighs, kissing your belly and resting his cheek on it. “Never said I wasn’t.” He looks up at you. “Is it weird that I’m...a little sad? I’ve loved this part of our lives so much.”

You shake your head. “Me too, my love. And no, It isn’t weird.” 

He holds your hands as he stands and kisses your forehead. 

“We should probably tell Jack it's go time so he can help the little ones when they get up.”

Aaron pauses for a moment, thinking. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Isaac isn’t going to clearly remember last time, so he’ll probably be nervous, and this is totally new to the girls.” You reach up and he plants a kiss on your lips. You smile, pleased. 

A little contraction wave hits, and one side of your face screwed up in discomfort. 

Aaron kisses your cheek and says, “I’ll get the rest of the toiletries together.”

You nod, and padded down the hallway, your socked feet swishing a little against the hardwood floors. You knocked twice on Jack’s door, quietly, and waited for his groggy, “Yeah?”

With access granted, you open the door with a little smile, and Jack sits straight up.  You cross to his bed and sit down on the edge, opening your arm to him. Though he’s almost seventeen, he scrambled out from under the covers and tucked in close to you. 

“Your dad and I are headed to the hospital, and Aunt Jess and Em are on their way okay? If you need anything big, dad has his phone and -“

“Mom, we’ve done this before,” he says with a grin. “I know the drill.”

You push the hair off his forehead and kiss him. “I know it, but it makes me feel better. The little ones haven’t done this before, and they’ll probably be a little nervous. Please help your aunts so they aren’t driven to the drink by your sisters.”

He laughs a little, and surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close to him. “Be safe, mom. I love you.” 

Tears prick at your eyes, and you hold him tight. “I love you so much, Jack.”

“Are you scared?”

You press a hand to the back of his head, and he burrows into your neck. “Only a little. I know I’m older, which can make some things difficult, but I’ll always come home to you.”

He nods. “Promise?”

“I promise as much as I can.”

Jack pulls away and swipes quickly at his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Hey,” your brow crinkles in lighthearted concern. “What’s gotcha?”

He shakes his head. “It’s stupid”

“I can guarantee you it’s not.” While still a bit of a boy, Jack looks very much a man in the dark, lit only by the light of the hallway as the wheels turn in his head. You pick up one of his hands, and he places your linked fingers over your belly. 

“I just - I don’t - Ugh. It’s morbid - Nevermind.”

You huff a laugh. “Baby, remember that one-third of this house hunts serial killers for a living. Nothing is morbid.”

A smile quirks at his lips, but it doesn’t really reach his eyes. “Just be okay? Please?”

You sober and nod, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Jack, do you think I would ever put you or your father into a position that can result in leaving either one of you?”

He shakes his head. “But things happen.”

“They sure do. Your dad will be with me the whole time and he can send you hourly updates if you want. I promise promise promise you’ll be in the loop, baby. I know you like to know.”

Your son’s eyes flicker to the doorway, where a shadow appears. It's Aaron, his backpack on and your go bag in his hand. 

“Ready?” 

You nod, stand (not without effort), and press another kiss to Jack’s head. “I love you bud. I’ll see you when our plus one arrives.” 

The plan is easy: Emily and Jessica are on their way over for the kids, and Dave and Spencer will relieve them after 12 hours. Derek, Savannah, JJ, and Will are only called when the baby arrives, to save them the angst of prematurely wrangling four children between them. 

The hospital is only eighteen minutes away, but with the way Aaron drives, it's more like ten. 

Time is fairly important - with your body accustomed to delivering babies, having done it twice before, there’s a very big chance active labor would only take a few hours, if that. 

Emily and Jess pull up to the house at the same time, both in their pajamas, holding their overnight bags.

“Ready?” Jess asks, kissing your cheek. 

You laugh. “Don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” 

Emily sets her things down and wordlessly hugs you. You wrap your arms around her as best you can. 

“Walk me out?” You ask. 

She slings an arm around your shoulders and you walk back out the front door. She situates you in the passenger seat, and you offer her a small smile. 

“You know,” she starts with a bit of a laugh, “every single time I’m just as nervous as I was when Henry was born.” 

You reach for her hand, and kiss the back of it. “Me too.” 

Everything goes according to plan after that. You sit in the car with your stopwatch while Aaron packs the car, checking the car seat base and putting everything that needs to go up with you in the trunk. Jess and Emily get set up on the couches in the living room, ready to settle in for the night. 

You're uncomfortable, sure, but it isn't unbearable yet. This is the tedious part. 

Miraculously, none of the little ones wake up in the commotion. The magic of white noise machines is never to be underestimated. 

“Time?” He calls from where he leans into the back of the car. He's handling the last details, in full field operations mode. 

You turn around. “5 minutes, 15 seconds.”

“Alright,” he looks up at you and grins widely. “Let’s go, baby.”

+++

Brienne breezes in and checks your charts and your dilation. “It’s go, time, here I think, Momma.”

You sigh and readjust. “Do I have to lay down?” Comfortable as you are, epidural all finished, you still feel a little restless. The alternative is worse - you’d delivered Isaac without any pain management, and thought it was the end of days. You didn’t, and won’t, make that mistake again. 

“Not necessarily, but if you’re going to shuffle around I would suggest a squat for the sake of your blood pressure.”

Another contraction hits, and it knocks the wind out of you. You squeeze Aaron’s hand so hard you fear you’ll break it, and inform him for the third time that morning that you hate his guts. 

“I know, honey. I’m sorry. I know. I’m the worst. Just breathe, okay?” He presses his forehead to your temple, giving you something to focus on. 

It sounds like you tell him to fuck off, but you aren’t sure. The wave crests and then falls, and you slump back against the pillows. “Okay, maybe I do want to lie down.” 

Everyone stifles a chuckle, but you didn't have it in you to be prideful. While you still have a few seconds, you double-check the plan. “Hey Brienne, we’re still good to tie today, right?” 

“Yes, ma’am!” she says, way too chipper for the small morning hour. She speaks quickly, knowing she has to finish her thought before your next contraction. “Soon as we’re all done, we’ll do a really quick procedure and everything will be squared away. If, for some reason, we have to do an emergency cesarean, we can do it right then as well.” 

Brienne is a great obstetrician - she never pulls punches when the news is difficult or stressful. Her straightforward nature immediately endeared her to your whole family. 

It's too much to think about, seeing as another contraction sneaks up on you as you ponder. It felt like only seconds since the last one. 

You're so tired. 

Brienne gestures to Aaron. They developed a bit of a language over the last two deliveries, and he presses a kiss to your temple. “You gotta push, babe.” 

“God, Fuck. I hate you, Aaron. Goddamn you. I’m never letting you near me ever again. Fuck.” A stream of expletives continues to leave you as you push and push and push. 

He only holds your hand and reminds you to breathe and push. He also tells you how much he loves you in between agreeing with your damning assessments. 

If he's honest, he always thinks your ire during childbirth is hilarious. It is kind of his fault, and he can't fathom the physical trauma, so he figures this is a fair role to fill while you do the hard work. 

On a small trough in your final set of contractions, you catch your breath enough to ask for his other hand. This is the hardest part, and it always makes you a little nervous. 

“Aaron, come here. Please.” He drapes his arm around your shoulders, and you grab his hand where it hangs by your collarbone. 

“You’re almost there, darlin’! We’re gonna be crowning here in a second.” You can't see Brienne, totally locked into her task, but her update is a relief. 

You lean heavily into Aaron and he rests his cheek against yours. While this is a shorter labor than both Isaac and the girls’, you're exhausted. Bone-deep tired and hot and cold all at once. 

“You’re doing so well. You’re a superhero. I love you so much.” He whispers his words against you, and you wail as another contraction hit.  Your choice of a walking epidural doesn’t knock the pain out entirely, and it still totally sucks. But again, better than the alternative.

“We’ve got a little Hotchner head! Keep going!” Brienne pats your knee and grins at you, and you follow instructions. “Do you want to catch, Dad?”

Before he can answer, you tell him, “If you move, I’ll kill you,” through your teeth. Aaron shrugs and looks over your head at Brienne, who suppresses a smile. 

There can't be any blood left in Aaron’s upper extremities at this point. In the midst of actively disliking him and your presence in your life in that particular moment, you're so grateful for him you could cry. 

Well, you could cry for a great number of reasons, but that’s definitely one of them. 

A few minutes and a pretty bad time later, a strong cry fills the room and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Aaron releases you as you unbutton your gown to expose your chest. 

“Your time to shine, Aaron.” Brienne holds up the umbilical cord clamp and snaps it together twice like a dad at a barbecue. With a smile, he stands and rounds the bed. 

You tried to peer over to see, but you're only able to see Aaron and Brienne.

A smile eats up his whole face. 

“Hi!” His voice pitches up, and you start to cry. 

You just love him so much your chest could just burst. Aaron is always the first person to greet your children as they come into the world, and he never fails to deliver a warm welcome. 

“Right here, right?” He looks to Brienne, and she nods. He cuts the cord, and the nurse crosses the room for measurements. 

Aaron returns to you and removes his own shirt, ready to take the little one while you finish delivery. After his crew neck is thrown to the side, he gathers you up in his arms again. 

There’s nothing you can do but melt into him. His skin is warm and he smells good, whereas your skin felt clammy and you probably smell like a horse’s ass. 

Brienne’s voice comes to you faintly from the other side of the room, iterating the specs of the newest addition. “Baby Boy Hotchner, 5:37am, August 13th, 8 pounds, 14 ounces, 21 inches.”

Okay I'm not crazy. He’s actually huge. 

Aaron scoots even closer as you lean away to get a better look. Brienne sets the still-squalling infant on your chest with gentle, warm hands. Your eyes blur with tears. Aaron isn't any better off, keeping one hand on you and another on your son, his own tears tracking quietly down his cheeks. 

Your son. 

Brienne sighs and says, “Alright, last bit here, and then you’re done.” 

You nod and Aaron takes him off your chest, leaning back with one hand under him and one hand over him. Fluid and other questionable grossness be damned, he ducks his head and presses his cheek to his son’s head, an ineffable joy radiating through his body. 

Aaron’s hands almost completely cover him - with his little knees tucked to his chest, he looks like an angry little loaf of bread. 

The afterbirth is the easy part, but then it was before, too. All the Hotchner kids are massive - even the girls were bigger for twins. 

You always make fun of Aaron for “ripping me to shreds, and not in a fun way.” 

(Okay, fine. Maybe a little in a fun way. Sometimes.)

There’s a little more pressure, and you look down at Brienne’s outline behind that infernal green medical paper shit. “How’s it going down there?”

“I’m getting these suckers tied off so we don’t have any more happy accidents. Don’t mind me.” 

Aaron stifles a laugh and you roll your eyes, still weepy. The nurse passes him a warm, wet washcloth, and he begins to wipe the ick from his son’s skin. 

Brienne finishes up and helps you get adjusted with ice packs and that excellent postpartum underwear. When she's satisfied, she removes her gloves and presses a hand to your bare shoulder. “Beautiful work, momma. He’s perfect.” 

You put a shaky hand over hers. “Thanks.” A little watery laugh leaves you. Ouch. “I’ll miss you.” 

And it's true. Brienne has been a semi-permanent fixture in your life for close to six years and has become a friend. You wouldn’t have any reason to see her again outside of regular check-ups. 

She squeezes your shoulder twice. “You ever need anything, you know who to call. Let someone know when you’re ready to put his name down, and they’ll finish off the birth certificate.” 

With that, she shepherds the nurse out the door, and you're alone with Aaron. 

“So,” you say. 

He smiles, his eyes still trained on the little body who has quickly quieted and is snoozing on his chest. “So?”

“Gimme that.” 

His laugh is warm, and he places little one on your chest again. You prod him awake, feeling only a touch bad about it, and offer him a snack. He latches right away, and you tip your head back in sheer relief. 

“Thank God.” 

Aaron nods in agreement. “That’s one less thing to worry about.” He shakes his head as if shaking something off - no doubt remembering the meltdowns night after night trying to nurse Isaac. 

Little one is still naked to the world, so you point at the little blue blanket folded across the room. “Can you grab that for me?” 

Aaron just looks at you for a second, as if seeing you for the first time.  “Of course.” 

He crosses the room, throws the blanket over his shoulder, and grabs a diaper. While the little one is distracted, he deftly maneuvers the diaper into place and drapes the blanket over him to keep the chill off while maintaining skin-to-skin.

You pull the blanket back a little so you can see his squishy little face. “Can you call Jack?” 

“Do we want to call him now? It’s pretty early.” Aaron leans over to his backpack and pulls his phone out, finding a couple requests for updates from Jess. First things first, he turns the camera on you, and you give him a thumbs up. You detach the little one from your nipple for a second, framing his face with the blanket. Aaron gets a good photo of a yawn and fires both pictures off to the BAU group chat before checking Jess’s messages. 

4:12am How we doin? 4:18am Jack’s up with me. He can’t sleep. Em is dead to the world - she gave up about an hour ago. Give us an update when you can. 

6:02am He’s adorable!!! He’s got your nose though, which is unfortunate. 6:02am Kidding. Maybe. 

Aaron laughs a little, and he looks at you. “He’s up with Jess.”

You nod. “Go ahead and call him. He’ll worry, honey.” 

He nods, and dials the second number on his speed dial. Jack picks up on the first ring. “Dad?”

“Hey, bud.” Aaron can't hide the smile in his voice. “Your brother is here and your mom wants to talk to you.” 

“Can I come see you?” Jack’s voice wavers a little, and Aaron knows it's relief, rather than anxiety. Much like his son, he was more than a little concerned for your safety. Now that it's over, he can finally relax. 

That alone is enough to make anyone emotional. 

Aaron checks his watch. “Are you too tired to drive?” 

“No, no. I’m good. I slept a little after you guys left.” he's quiet for a second. “Can you hand me to mom?”

“Sure, bud.” Aaron nods at you and you smile. He starts to pass the phone over to you then -

“Oh, dad?” Jack’s voice is only a little urgent. 

Aaron pulls the phone back to his ear. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, bud. I want to talk to Aunt Jess when you’re done with mom, so don’t hang up, okay?” 

With that, he hands you the phone and fresh tears roll down your cheeks. You know this part comes in waves - the emotions. Your hormones are in shambles, and you forget how intense it is every time. 

“Hey, Jack.” 

“Are you okay how did it go what happened?” All the questions come out in a rush.

You chuckle. Ouch. “Slow down there, kiddo. We’re just fine. It went really smoothly, but the last part happened kind of all at once and I denied your father personal freedom and geographic agency, so we didn’t get a chance to update you.” 

He laughs, and it warms you. “It’s okay. I’m really excited to meet him.” There’s a shuffle, and you assume it's his keys. 

Baby boy is finished eating, just nosing around your chest at this point. You shift, and Hotch catches the phone and holds it to your ear so you can use two hands, bringing little one’s head right under your collarbone, tucking him up again. “He’s excited to meet you, too.”

After Aaron has a chance to debrief and game-plan with Jess (“If you bring the little ones over here before 10am, nobody will have any fun.”), Jack is on his way. 

In the meantime, Aaron sets his phone on the side table and sits on the edge of your bed. “Are we sticking to the name we picked? Does it feel right?”

You nod. “I think so. What do you think?”

You do your best to inch yourself over - Ouch - so Aaron can have a little more space. He stretches out on the bed next to you, on his side with his arm folded under his head. A very large hand covers yours, pulling the blanket down to little one’s chin. 

“He looks like you,” he says. 

You snort. Ouch. “Don’t lie. All your damn kids look like you.”

“Alright, fine.” He relents with a wide smile. “He looks like me.” 

He's quiet for a moment, tracing the apple of little one’s cheek with his finger.  His smile morphs into something soft, pensive. It's the look he always has when he's in awe of his children. “What do you think, little man? Is your name Elliot David? How’s that sitting with you?”

The Elliot David in question just makes contented little staccato sounds from his chest, his brown eyes looking here and there, surprisingly alert. He lets out a little cough, and both you and Aaron let out an, “Oh!” simultaneously in that drawn-out way parents do when their kids surprise themselves. 

You look at him and stifle a laugh just for the sake of your exhausted muscles. Aaron’s smile soon turns shaky, and tears fall onto his elbow where it rests under his head. He takes a big breath, and it catches on the way out. 

“Oh, honey. Come here.” 

You adjust again, bringing the head of the bed down with the little remote. As you recline, you only need one hand to keep Elliot secure. You raise your other arm, and Aaron scoots under it, resting his head in the crook of your chest and shoulder. He snaps some buttons on your gown in the absent-minded interest of keeping Jack relatively unscarred. 

Aaron’s bare arm is warm under your fingers. You trace little patterns into his skin as he stares at the back of his son’s head. Elliot’s impossibly small hand catches Aaron’s finger in that death grip only babies seem to have. 

Aaron doesn’t care he's nearly twenty-four hours without sleep, missing a shirt, and really hungry. The only things that matter in this moment are right here in front of him. 

There’s no need to speak. 

A nurse stops by and drops off the bedside cradle, speaking quietly. “You can put him in here when you’re ready to get some rest.” 

You look up and thank him. “Oh, and we’d like to finish the birth certificate in a few hours. Will that be alright?”

He nods. “Just fine.” He checks your charts and leaves a few moments later. 

Soon after, the door slips open, and Jack’s head pops in. “Hi!” He stage-whispers. “Lemme see him.” 

Aaron is stuck where he is, still locked in by Elliot’s grip, so Jack crosses to your other side, pulling up a chair as close as he can get it. 

There is a sense of finality to this meeting. Elliot is your last child, and this is the last time the Three Musketeers will sit together, meeting the newest member of their family. 

“Oh man, Mom. He’s so cute.” Jack coos and ducks so he's eye-level with his baby brother. He traces a finger along Elliot’s tiny, straight nose. When he rests his head on your upper arm, you kiss his head. All three of you sit there until the sun rises, watching Elliot fall asleep. Aaron follows suit eventually, his breath fanning slow and even across your chest. 

+++

The three of you are relatively well-rested by the time your family comes to bombard you. 

Elliot woke twice in the early morning - once to be fed and the other to be changed. Jack retreated to the recliner after a certain point, and Aaron threw on a sweatshirt and curled up next to you for the duration. They're still out cold, while you rest somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. 

One of the nurses on rotation pops her head in. You wave at her with the tips of your fingers. 

“Your family is here to see you.” 

That wakes you up. You make an ‘eek’ face. “All of them?”

She nods. “Three at a time?” 

“Please.” You reach over and pick up a neatly-swaddled Elliot and tuck him into your elbow. You check the corner, where Jack still sleeps. You're sure a train could drive through the room and he’d still be out. That kid has sleeping superpowers - being sixteen only helped.  

Jess is first, holding the girls’ hands while Isaac trails a little behind. 

You put a finger to your lips and point to Elliot. “He’s sleeping, so you have to be really quiet, okay?”

Caroline clambers up on the bed with a few reminders to “be gentle with Mom and don’t lean on her too much,” and peers over you. “Is Daddy sleeping?”

You look to your right, and sure enough, Aaron is out like a light again, performance evaluations on his chest, his hand relaxed around his pen. “Yeah, baby. Daddy’s sleeping because he's awake for a really long time helping me with Elliot.” 

Newly reminded of the main event, Caro plants herself by your knee while Sophia sits by your hip, taking the good real estate. You look over at Jess and wink. She slips out, closing the door softly behind her. 

You scoot over so you're flush with Aaron’s side. “Come on up here, bubba.” 

Isaac gives you a little smile and perches at your side. “He’s so small.” 

“Yep. And look at that,” you brush your fingers down Elliot’s nose and tap his cupid bow before doing the same to Isaac. “You have the same nose.” 

Isaac smiles and raises a tentative hand. He hesitates right before he reaches the dark brown peach fuzz that sits in unmanageable cowlicks on Elliot’s head. 

“You can touch him, bub. Just be gentle.” Isaac’s hand smooths over Elliot’s head with next-to-no pressure. “Do you remember when Sophia and Caroline were born?” 

Isaac nods. “It was super cool.”

“It was super cool.” You kiss his forehead and adjust your hold on Elliot. “Sophia, love, can you hand me the pillow that’s by Daddy’s knee.” 

She nods and very carefully presents it to you. You show her how to stuff it under your elbow so you can relax while supporting Elliot’s head. Caro is clearly enamored, her eyes never leaving Elliot’s face. 

“Babies are really delicate,” you remind a wiggling Sophia. “Their heads are too heavy for their little necks, so sometimes they need a little help.” 

At the mention of ‘help,’ Aaron’s eyes snap open. “What’s up?”  

You suppress a laugh as he realizes all of his kids surround him like the children of the corn. He presses a hand to his face, recovering. “Oh. Hi.”

Caro beams at him, and he beams right back. He puts his files down and pats his lap. “Come here, my little love. I’ve got a really good view over here.” 

She very mindfully picks her way over your shins and into her father’s lap. He lifts her so she's flush to his chest. His cheek presses into her hair, and he shows her where to find Elliot’s little baby toes under the blanket. 

“Are his feet very very small?” Caroline’s whispered question almost makes Aaron cry again. 

“Yes. They are very very small. So are his hands. Here, look.” 

He reaches over and peels back a layer of blanket, exposing one of Elliot’s (very very) small hands, pressed flat against the fabric. Aaron wiggles his finger under it and presents it to the kids. “If you look really carefully, you all have the same hands.” 

All at once, three pairs of hands appear, flipping their palms up and down as each one individually assesses the similarities. 

“And if you look even closer,” he says, flipping his palm down, but keeping Elliot’s hand aloft, “I have the same hands as all of you, too.”

Caroline looks up at him, awestruck and he nods. She places her hand on the back of Aaron’s and - lo and behold - they're the same shape, just significantly different sizes. 

Satisfied, Sophia drops her hands, leaning on them to get a closer, yet stable, look at Elliot’s fingers. 

She gasps, but to her credit, keeps her voice soft as she says, “Look at his tiny little nails!” 

“Lemme see!” Aaron supports Caro as she thrusts her body forward to get a better look. 

Jack stirs in the corner, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. In full voice, he says, “Oh, hey guys.” 

Three big shushes come from the kids, and it takes everything in you to keep your laugh locked away. You keep your eyes trained on Sophia (who looks downright offended at Jack’s volume) knowing if you look at Aaron you’d be done for. 

Jack makes the same ‘eek’ face you made earlier. “Sorry, sorry.” He creeps over, standing behind Sophia and putting his hands on her shoulders. She giggles quietly as he drops close to her ear. “Cute, huh?”

She wrinkles her nose. “He looks a little funny.” 

“He’ll start to look more like a person in a few weeks,” Aaron says with a smile. “You looked pretty funny the day you're born, maybe even funnier.”

He winks at her, and she dissolves into a fit of giggles again, leaning back against Jack. As she did so, her brother wrapped her in his arms and rested his chin on her head. 

Isaac runs his hand over Elliot’s hair, gentle and repetitive. He, like Jack did hours earlier, rests his head against your shoulder. You press your cheek to the crown of his head, soaking it in. 

“I like him.” 

A smile breaks your face in half, and you peer around to look at Isaac’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s cool.” 

Your bottom lip disappears into your mouth as you fight back tears, still ready to flow without fair warning. You don’t want to scare them. “I’m so glad you think so, bubba.” 

Elliot has once again taken Aaron’s finger hostage, and it takes more than a little negotiation to get him unwrapped and tucked back into his blanket. You have no idea how Elliot manages to sleep through all the commotion, but then again, he’ll have to get used to it. 

Jess pokes her head back in. “Ready for some lunch?”

Four heads whip around and nod vigorously. Aaron deposits Caro on the floor, while Isaac presses a heart-wrenching kiss to Elliot’s head before gingerly getting his feet back under him. Jack just lifts Sophia and she hangs off his hip, only a little too big. 

He walks to you and kisses your cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

You bring your hand up to his temple, the back of your fingers brushing his hair back. “I love you too, my Jack.” 

One side of his mouth turns up in a smile, and he leaves the room with Sophia, leading the rest of the pack down the hallway. 

+++

It's safe to say Dave immediately covets his namesake. You plop Elliot into his arms right away, and say, “This is Elliot David Hotchner. He’s been very excited to meet you.”

Dave full-on cries, letting the tears just fall onto his shirt as he bounces Elliot all around the room, talking to him about all the ways he’ll spoil him rotten. 

It’s easy to name him after Rossi. When you finally decided on a couple of first names, it was a no-brainer to pair them up with David. He’s your family, like they all are, but you're acutely aware that Elliot will have the smallest amount of time with Dave, no matter how much time that will be. 

When Dave is ready to give him up, he reluctantly passes him back to Aaron. Dave crosses to you while Aaron offers Elliot a knuckle to mouth around on. 

Dave kisses your cheeks and embraces you. He leans back to look at you, keeping his hands on your face. You cover his hands with your own and close your eyes. 

You're taking a lot of mental pictures today. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you're sure you see Aaron’s one-handed camera work out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you, bellissima.” 

“You’ve more than earned it,” you remind him.  

“Dealing with you two for fifteen years? You’re damn right I have.”

+++

a joyful future tag list:  @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @thatinspiredgirl @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @synonymforlame @lcvischmitt

[missinghan]

young & beautiful ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : zombie apocalypse!au; punk! au

❖ word count : 13,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol & violence 

❖ summary : you’ve always thought your soulmate was an idiot to not be there sooner but eventually, everything connects when it started with Lee Felix holding your best friend at gunpoint. 

one.

Jisung puffs his cheeks out and stares at his own reflection on the glass table. The bartender quickly comes back, pushing a tequila sunrise towards his direction. The boy takes an awful amount of time to study how the yellow, almost orange liquid bleeds into a deep red effortlessly. 

He shakes his bang away furiously, calling out for the bartender. “Uhm, I just ordered a Coke. Not this.” 

“Have a drink kid, it’s on me.”

He pushes the glass away. “No thanks.” 

“What kind of adult doesn’t drink alcohol in desperate times?” 

“Then what kind of bartender doesn’t run for his life when ravenous freaks are lurking the streets?”

The bartender tips his head back and laughs wholeheartedly. “Listen, kid. It’s either beating the shit out of someone or getting wasted to keep the little amount of sanity left on your mind. So I’m staying here for them alcoholics. Business is running low, not taking any risks.” He wipes his hand onto his white apron, throwing him a playful wink. “Call me if you need anything.” 

Jisung beams innocently. “Do you have a pencil? And paper too?”

“Jisung you can’t be serious, where are you?”

Minutes later, he’s starting to regret the questionable-looking sketch of a squirrel on the piece of paper that the bartender gave him. Instead, he presses the tip of the pencil harder onto the surface until it snaps in half, leaving the sharp wooden edges sticking out. He can kill the bartender with this if he decides to spike his drink, Jisung figures. He hesitantly brings the rim of the glass to his lips and takes the smallest sip possible. The burning sensation goes down his throat in matters of seconds. His entire windpipe feels like it’s on fire. 

“Hey, I need some water..” He chokes out as someone enters the bar. 

The bartender averts his gaze onto the new customer. “Cool, what about you?”

The unfamiliar figure sits beside him, murmuring. “I’m not here for the drinks, but him.” 

The bartender looks confused. “A water it is then?”

Jisung’s head starts spinning slightly, dizziness bubbling up inside his chest. He hiccups with the pencil held between his fingers. Something’s wrong with this man. He needs to get out of here, now. “Sorry, I don’t feel too well. I think I’ll get back to—“ Just when he slips himself off the stool, two other men appear out of nowhere and block his way as the first one firmly holds him in place by his shoulders. Jisung immediately turns to the bartender, signaling him to run with his eyes. And the bartender does as he insists. 

One of the thugs growls gruffly, making Jisung drop the black duffle bag in his hand. “You’re gonna have to pay for what you did, boy.”

“Hi, I’m Jisung. Sup guys?” 

“Did you just say ‘Hi, I’m Jisung’?”

Jisung grimaces as you hiss into the earpiece, the sound screeching against his eardrums. In which, it doesn't really help to cool the situation down. He drops onto his knees when a guy kicks him in the shin, face scrunching up in pain. One of the guys surrounded him hides behind a face mask, whipping out a dagger concealed in his sleeve. With a cheerful voice, “There’s nothing to be all grabby and stabby about.” Jisung gulps. He’d be lying if he said that he’s not about to piss his pants. 

“Uhm, do you like the color red?” 

The one who’s holding him down snaps, pulling his collar backward. “Shut it, twig.” He elbows him at the back of his head, earning a low, painful grunt. 

Jisung asks, as light as a feather, he’s trying too hard to form a proper sentence at this point. “What about coding? Do you like coding? You guys look pretty smart, you must be into coding.”

“Jisung, the hell-- CODE RED, JEONGIN, CODE RED! JISUNG’S IN TROUBLE!” 

He sighs in relief when you finally understand, limbs growing wobbly. 

“Han, get the hell out of there! I swear--”

Your words get cut off when a goon peels the earpiece away harshly, examining the device with an amused smirk. “Look at this toy, it might be pretty expensive.” Then, he looks at his gang member and cocks a brow. “Why don’t we just take him with us? He’ll lead us right back to their hiding spot.” His team quickly nod their heads in agreement, staring down at the blond-haired boy with mischievous eyes. 

With his head dangled low, Jisung’s limbs are giving in but the grip on the pencil never once loosens. “Okay..” He slowly looks up and shoots them a look, chuckling darkly. “This is gonna be fun.” In a split second, the sharp end of the pencil goes straight into the goon’s stomach, making him stagger backward and groan aloud in agony. Although Jisung’s frame is quite small compared to what a standard fighter needs to be, he never fails to take advantage of that. If he’s smaller, he’s gonna be faster than them. 

He sweeps a leg across the ground, one of the men falls onto his head, easily slipping into a good sleep until the zombies come in and take care of his unconscious body. Jisung catches the earpiece when it falls out of the goon’s hand. “Thanks, I’m gonna need my toy back.” Before he can slip the device on again, an arm sweeps under his feet and he lands right onto his bottom. “Using fire against fire. Smartass.” He mutters and clumsily props himself up from facepalming himself onto a pool of fresh blood that’s slowly seeping through the tiled floor. 

The only conscious goon smirks down at him. “I don’t like coding. But I do like the color red.” When Jisung flutters his eyes upwards, he’s met with a shiny metal blade, inevitable to drive down, straight into his chest, right through his heart. He automatically squeezes his eyes shut as an attempt to brace himself for the contact. 

“Hey asshole,” His eyes shoot open at the more than familiar voice. 

two.

You’re so screwed. You’re all fucking screwed. 

You’re not screwed because you completely forgot that you have four finals in a row next week. You’re not screwed because you broke your mom’s favorite mug or accidentally had a scratch on your dad’s car. Heck, you wish they could beat you with a wooden spoon right now. If only they’re still alive. You’d have your parents put you in timeout and fail four subjects all at once just so that everything can be normal again. 

In movies, particularly ‘Zombieland’ or ‘The Walking Dead’, humans are being controlled by a virus that turns you into a walking corpse that feeds off humans’ flesh. But, we naturally do have plenty of brain disorders that can do just that. However, none of those things were contagious in the first place. Until Mad Cow Disease came along. Who would have thought? Cows are simply being part of the food chain then an entire square block, forty bedrooms, and nineteen bathrooms; everyone in your neighborhood went apeshit after the steak they had for dinner. 

It’s a miracle how you even managed to run away without being bit by your own parents, who are now brainless serial killers. The idea of eating someone’s organs doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore when you know that you’re only one brain chemical away from turning to a psychotic cannibal. That’s not even the irony of the whole situation. Irony, is how ready your current generation is for the end of the world, but not exams. 

Hence, you’re gonna throw a birthday party for one of your best friends like nothing’s ever happened. Except for the fact that you’ll have to lure him out of the sanctuary while the others are working on the surprise. 

Now you’re sitting in an abandoned bar, attempting to cheer your friend up with a shot of whiskey. You’ve never really liked the idea of being inside a bar before. Drowning yourself in alcohol and letting the night snatch your consciousness away as you sway your body along with bad EDM, going deaf with laughter and music banging against your eardrums? Not ideal. But now, it’s all empty. The neon lights are hanging by a single cable, wallpapers chipping off with discolorations soaking through the wall. The once infamous bar where students used to get wasted every weekend is now dead. Both literally and metaphorically. You’re not complaining anyway. 

“Hey Jeongin,” you speak up lowly. “Have you ever hit a girl before?” You run your tongue over the cut right on your bottom lip, tasting the coppery blood in boredom. 

Jeongin stares blankly at the glass of whiskey that you just offered him, studying the yellowish component closely. “No? Why would I?” He looks up and almost freezes to death with the look that you��re throwing his way. He can’t tell whether you’re mad or not because you’re that type of person who doesn’t necessarily need to go all furious or mad to scare the shit out of someone. 

“No? Oh, don’t mind me,” you shake your head, low chuckles vibrating through your chest capacity. “I was just gonna ask you how it feels. You know, to kick someone in the gut or punch them in the face when you know they’re clearly not your size.” You sigh and prop your head onto your hand, eyes slightly heavy from the alcohol kick. It’s been a while since you’ve messed with these things. “Right, sorry. Not my point. My point is: stop being a big baby and get out there, talk it out with Jisung you little shit!”

The boy in front of you quickly looks away when you stare him dead in the eye. He swallows heavily, picking at the ripped part of his jeans. “I’m not gonna talk it out with him. That was stupid, irresponsible and reckless. He could have just let it be and not have his jaw broken. He was supposed to sneak in, get out, and act like nothing’s ever happened. Instead, he got caught at a bar, waved at them and even said ‘Hi, I’m Jisung’. He didn’t even get anything but got you in danger! Look at you! Minho would kill us if he saw you with a thousand arrow wounds like this!” He throws his hands upwards and cries out. “I swear to God, I’d never sign up to save his ass, ever, again. I swear—“

You clear your throat, wordlessly dropping a black duffel bag onto the counter with a loud thud. Jeongin’s mouth forms an ‘o’ as his hands automatically unzip the bag, revealing an awful amount of weapons: shotguns, rifles, knives, crowbars, etc. Heck, even some food. God, Jeongin can’t even remember the last time he’s had a proper meal. He subconsciously runs his hand along the matte-finished surface of a firearm, a retort lingering on the tip of his tongue. “Wow,” he utters. “He really— he got them.” 

“He did.” You cock a brow, leaning forward and zip the bag up again. “And tell you what, even if you’re not gonna be there when Jisung makes a bad decision again, I will. Because you know damn well that there’s nothing in this world that he wouldn’t hesitate to do as long as your little junkie ass is safe.”

“HEY, WE CAN TALK THIS OUT, CHILL—“

“I said hands up! DROP THE GUN!”

“Chan, DON’T DO IT!”

You and Jeongin quickly collect yourselves, scrambling out of the bar. When the door swings wide open, you’re met with Jisung on his knees, hands behind his head, his Benelli M4 abandoned by a water bottle near the entrance. Meanwhile, there are two other guys who seem like they’re talking amongst themselves as they hold your best friend at gunpoint. Your fingers hover over the pistol in your back pocket, mentally debating if you should engage or not. 

The more you’re lost into your own thoughts, the more you find yourself staring at the pink-haired boys standing beside the brunette one, who’s having a handgun, pointing right at Jisung. The freckled boy has you drawn into him like instant gravity because suddenly, it feels like the world stops spinning when he looks up and accidentally meets your eyes. That’s when you take a closer look at his features. Perfect dark eyebrows, bright beady eyes, and prominent Cupid’s bow. His freckles are what throw you off, making it possible to look away because they’re like embers of disintegrated supernovas, scattered across the universe for eternities. 

“Everyone calm down!” You snap out of it and break eye contact. As much as you’d love to stare at the freckled cutie all day, you’re gonna cut him in his sleep if he dares to put a finger on Jisung. “Lay off my friend. Now.” You declare and receive attention from the brunette as he tells you off with his eyes. 

The guy who you assume is called, Chan jerks his head towards Jisung. “Tell your friend that it’d be nice if he could give it back.” 

“Give what back?” You turn to Jisung. “Han, we’ve talked about this. We don’t steal from anyone, besides street gangs.” You tell him firmly, motioning for him to hand over whatever the fuck of a thing that those two strangers need because him getting killed for something as childish as a slice of cheesecake is gonna drive you nuts. 

Jisung opens up his left palm and shows you a silver wedding band, smiling awkwardly as you hold yourself back from decking him in the face. “Look, I was just looking around and I found this thing, and I got curious then they just came back and deadass threatened me with their guns!” He adds in. “I don’t know what’s the big deal with this ring anyway. Looks like someone bought it on eBay.” 

“Say that again, I dare you.” Chan tightens his grip on the gun and clicks in a bullet. As soon as you hear the bullet being locked in to the chamber, your hand automatically flies to your back pocket and pulls out your pistol. You directly aim at his head, finger trembling over the trigger when you switch off the safety catch. “Give-it-back,” Chan says through gritted teeth. 

“Jisung..” You warn him. 

Jisung protests. “Like hell I would.”

“I never miss, just throwing that out there,” Chan says indifferently

“I SAID PUT THE GUN DOWN.”

“ENOUGH!” Jeongin snaps, catching all of you off guard. “We are surrounded by mindless cannibals over here! We all went through it, we all were there when our family turned into those monsters, we all had those times where we had no place to go, no food to eat, no friends to be there for us. Don’t we have enough problems? For fuck’s sake look at us! Is pointing guns and yelling at each other gonna bring the good days back? So would you guys just stop it? We’re a bunch idiots trying to kill each other when the end is fucking near! Can’t we just be friends and play some dumbass games like ‘20 Questions’ like decent human beings while we’re driving them back to the safehouse ?” 

You stare at him in awe for a moment there, your muscles relaxing and giving up on the gun. Jeongin gives Chan a Look, chest heaving up and down in pure furiosity. Sometimes the idea of surviving does mess with your mind, forgetting that people are still people. They’re just like you. They’ve gone through some pretty bad shits too. 

Chan retrieves his weapon, sighing. “Sorry, we really mean no harm. It’s just that we need it back.” He scratches his neck sheepishly as two dimples are fully on display. He’s not so scary when he smiles after all. 

 “I’m gonna have to confiscate that for the time being.” You snatch the piece of jewelry from Jisung’s hand. “We’ll talk about this when you guys are back at our base.” 

“But—“

“Chan, let her. It’s fine.” The freckled boy interrupts him. 

You look at him and subconsciously smile. “Oh? I’m sorry, does this belong to you? Aren’t you scared that I’m gonna throw this pretty little thing away later?” 

He replies with mild interest. “I don’t think you’d wanna do that, you could have just kept it to yourself.” 

“No, Charming. It’s not my style.” You voice as you stare down at the ring, studying every little detail carefully. The silver band is exquisite with a sterling double knot, adding a unique touch to the elegant simplicity of the ring. You think you’re already falling in love, but are you really gonna tell him that? Most definitely not. “Yep, not my style. And I’ll throw it away someday, that’s for threatening my friend.” 

He makes a face and takes a few steps towards you. “I have a name.”

“Don’t care. ‘Charming’ suits you pretty well.” 

“It’s Felix. You’re welcome.” He grins, offering you a hand. You decide to take it, kind of taken aback when knowing that his hand is a lot smaller compared to the average guys’. “And I wouldn’t worry about that, you won’t be going home with it anyway. ‘Cause I’ll always find you, always.” He squeezes your hand a little bit too tight for your liking, making you flinch. 

Little did you know, behind his back, Felix’s counting down from one two three with his fingers, Chan watching him closely with his gun ready. 

Three. 

Two. 

One.

Jisung quickly notices and reaches out to you. “Y/N!” And one single shotgun rings through the area. 

three.

On the outskirts of the once stellar city, lies a warehouse in a not so stellar neighborhood. Dead leaves are falling onto the ground, scraping against the concrete surface, and sending chills down people’s spine. It’s like they’re not even trying to grow properly even when it’s not halfway through spring yet. The eerie atmosphere is just another reason for people to not wander around for too long, as if they’d have the gut to come there in the first place. But it’s still a zombie apocalypse, there are worse things that could happen either way. 

You’d be surprised at what people can do when they’re dangling off the fingertips of Death. 

People would never guess what’s hidden behind the crooked door. A living room fully equipped with an outdated couch and broken TV, a kitchen with everything but a fridge. Further into the safe house is a bedroom big enough for ten people to fit in, a storage room full of firearms and weapons. Last but not least, security cameras and monitors are set up all around the base, to be more secure. No zombies in this household. It took you and the guys forever to collect enough materials. The only thing that you’re constantly running low on is food. 

And turns out Jisung calling your name wasn't the last thing you’d heard. 

“Ugh, Minho, get me water,” You groan loudly before wagging your hand around like a madwoman. Once you feel the cool metal surface on the nightstand, you quickly check your own reflection. Needless to say, you’re horrified at what you saw. Absolutely terrifying, yes. Hair falling onto your face, tiny scratches scattered across your cheekbones as they leave an itchy sensation of your skin. Fortunately, the cut on your lips is already cleaned, and your bruises are starting to fade. But what sucks is the constant banging effect on your temple, an imminent pain that’s threatening to swallow you whole. 

Yeah, this is why you never drink. 

“Minho, water..” Your whimper grows smaller and smaller towards the end as your hand gives up on holding onto your phone. “Is this what whiskey does to the human body?” You smack your lips together as the bitter taste seeps through your taste buds more deeply, choking on the alcohol smell in your own throat. 

Minho takes long strides into the bedroom with a bowl of piping hot soup. “Whiskey contains almost no sugar, can reduce blood clots, decreases your chances of getting a heart attack, even a stroke, fights cancerous cells and..” He pauses before wiggling his eyebrows. “Helps you perform better in bed.” He chuckles when you bury your face under your blanket, cheeks tinted pink. He will never not get you with his less than appropriate comments. 

“You’re gross.” 

Minho smirks. “Low blow.” He cranes his neck tiredly, lips curling upwards into a small smile. “You’re quite lucky. Whoever was trying to kill you missed.” 

Your brows automatically knit together as you try to gather the small pieces of memories your brain can muster. Everything that happened yesterday seems too cloudy for you to comprehend, but you could never forget the moment Chan’s bullet missed you by a strand of hair, piercing straight into the plexiglass window right behind you to catch you off guard. Next thing you know, Felix kicked the back of your knees, having you land on buckling ankles. 

You tell Minho sternly. “If he wanted me dead, I wouldn’t have come back in one piece.” You hold in a breath, in disbelief of your own words. “He spared my life, believe it or not.” Chan let you go, but why would he? You did piss him and his friend off intentionally because you never know what you’re getting yourself into. 

Minho figures you might have hit your head somewhere, so he places your food on the nightstand and scoffs. “Eat up, you’re talking a shit ton for someone who almost died.”

“Where’s Han?” You gladly receive the bowl of soup with two hands, mouth watering slightly since you haven’t eaten since yesterday. 

As if on cue, you can hear Jisung shrieking from downstairs. “NO NO NO! DON’T SHOOT ME WITH MY OWN GUN!” 

You and Minho exchange a look before rushing outside, dashing towards the living room. “Oh, you gotta be shitting me.” The commotion inside has your jaw dropped to the floor. Again, Jisung is held at gunpoint for the fourth time of the week, you’re quite surprised that his head hasn’t been blown into bits yet. With the gun pressed against his temple, beside him is the freckled boy from yesterday. Felix, if you’re not mistaken. Chan’s here too, neither of them is looking too happy. If Hyunjin was here seeing two strangers try to threaten his best friend, he’d definitely go apeshit. 

“Woah woah, what’s the problem here?” Your brother, Woojin comes out from the kitchen with wide eyes and two glasses of water in his hands. “Lix, put the gun down.” He tells the younger boy firmly, but Felix doesn’t even move an inch.  

He cocks his head towards Jisung, a scowl adorning his soft features. “It wouldn’t have to be like this if your friend here didn’t steal my ring. Twice.” 

“Jisung, seriously?” You facepalm yourself. You can still vividly remember how Felix snatched the piece of jewelry away from your palm when your face smacked the ground. And now Jisung decided to take it back? Without your consent? You’re not taking a bullet for him, not this time. 

Jisung puts his hands up in defeat. “Okay okay, I have a confession.” He inhales. “I sold it.” Just when you thought things can’t possibly get any worse. 

“What?!” You and Felix exclaim simultaneously. 

Felix tongues the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “Come here, tell you what..” 

The moment Jisung takes a step towards him, Felix takes his hand in a little bit too abruptly. He twists it at a weird angle, making Jisung wince. “That, is for selling the ring.” He presses your friend harshly against the coffee table, the handle of the gun secured on the nape of his neck, and you grimace at the sight. But also, you’re low-key enjoying this. “And that, is for being a little shit. You’re coming with me tomorrow, no negotiation.” 

Felix soon lets go when your brother glares at him, smiling softly, warm brown eyes twinkling like a starry night. Jisung backs away almost immediately in caution when he offers to pull him upright and cowers behind Minho. You can tell that he’s terrified of the seemingly harmless freckled boy now. This is what he gets for never learning, he’s made a grave mistake to touch someone’s property in the middle of an apocalypse, where everyone’s more than ready to tear each other apart when they’re pissed about off about something as little as being hangry. “Huh, you’re not very into handshakes then. Don’t you want your gun back too?” He puts his hands into the pockets of his jeans, turning to meet Woojin’s eyes. 

“Alright, we’ll have to talk about this later.” Your brother merely sneers at Jisung. “I’ll reintroduce you guys. Y/N, my sister.” He motions towards you before averting his attention to the other two. “That’s Minho, find him if you’re injured or need someone to knock some solid logic into your head.” Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair. “And the moron who, uh, robbed you is Jisung. He’s a really good guy, I swear. His hands are apparently faster than his brain.” 

Chan speaks up dryly. “So he’s a doctor, and a part-time therapist.” Minho nods satisfactorily. “And he’s an idiot.” Jisung just smiles awkwardly because he’s not planning on getting his ass kicked again. At least not for the time being. 

You interject, still drowning in confusion. “Wait, you know him?” 

“Yeah, he’s the son of our parents’ former business partners. You guys used to hang out as toddlers.” Woojin says. 

You widen your eyes. “What?” You can’t believe it. Felix is ridiculously attractive (you’d hate to admit that in front of him) so hanging out with a boy this cute, even not for long would still definitely leave you with some kind of impression. There’s no way this charming guy had witnessed those times where you’re still taking medicine by swallowing them down with chocolate pudding. You’d rather bury yourself alive at this point. 

“The Lees made that?” You gasp.

Woojin nods reluctantly. “They sure did.” 

Felix takes a few steps forward and looks down at you, decreasing the distance between your faces. His minty breath fans your face and leaves you flustered within seconds. “Long time no see, Princess. Told you I will always find you.” He throws you a wolfish wink, proceeding to walk past you to go upstairs with Chan following him after. 

“Hey! I still want my gun back!” Jisung yells after him. 

The pet name that rolled off his tongue effortlessly sends your heartbeat over the edge. It’s beating vigorously inside your rib cage, louder than when your parents were about to eat you alive, louder than when you were kicked to the curb by some random mobs, so loud that you’re afraid everyone’s gonna hear it. It’s only your second encounter and he’s already messing with your heart just by simply existing as he is. 

Jesus fucking Christ. Now, you’re really screwed. 

Because falling for someone during an apocalypse is just another fucked up version of every rom-com to ever exist. Or maybe a knocked-off version of Warm Bodies, except Felix isn’t a zombie.

Yet.

four.

You wake up today feeling quite at peace for once in a while since the zombies outbreak only to find out that Jisung is heading outside to search for medicine with Minho. Meaning, drum rolls, you’re having the honor to go with Prince Charming aka Lee Felix and retrieve his stupid ring. You’re far too mad at Woojin to even finish the can of tuna that he kindly offered. Instead, you decide to bolt outside as soon as possible before you accidentally murder your brother. 

“Get in Princess, we don’t have all day!” Felix calls out loudly as he repeatedly honks his car. Admittedly, you’re quite impressed that he managed to find a whole ass Jeep in the middle of this ghost town. 

You enter the car, almost gasping at how good of a condition that this car is still in. Whoever owned this vehicle previously, God bless them because they definitely did a great job at keeping it nice and clean. There are no questionable items lying on the floor or inside one of the cabinets, the AC is still working, the radio isn’t showing those creepy statics sounds that never fail to chill you to the bones. 

Felix perks a brow in amusement. “It’s mine, by the way, I did a great job at keeping it clean huh?” When you give him nothing but a scowl, he chuckles lightheartedly and starts the engine. “Buckle up, I don’t want you to suddenly fly out of the window or anything.”

“Oh, you’re pretty shit at driving then.” You comment flatly, making an effort to avoid his eyes. They keep drawing you in even at the slightest chance. You’re not falling into that downward spiral again, nope, never. But you can’t help but notice how he still looks good in a bomber jacket with a simple tee underneath, tucked neatly inside his ripped jeans. 

Upon your cold response, Felix’s smile remains still on his lips. “Said someone who can’t even drive.” He snickers somewhat sarcastically. Wow, do you miss bickering with Minho about his three spoiled cats. 

“Sure, hand over the keys unless you want us both to play tennis with Hitler in the afterlife.” You protest with as much sarcasm. God, it’s been two minutes into the ride and the amount of willpower you’re mustering right now to not grab him by the collar and yank his ass out of this car is actually terrifying. But doing that can potentially threaten your own life so indeed, you’re starting to wonder if that’s gonna be the wisest decision. “What’s the big deal with that ring anyway? Can’t you just break into some jewelry store and find another one that you like?”

Felix looks into the distance, his smile faltering. “My mom wanted me to give it to the girl that I’m willing to spend the rest of my life with. Even when things are fucked up, like right about… now..” He tells you sternly with a hint of sadness in his tone, his warm brown eyes are now cloudy. It’s hard to break through the wall that he’s trying to build, but you don’t think you both are close enough to talk about these things anyway. 

If anything, you should try to lighten up the mood. “Good luck with that. Because the only thing you’re gonna be willing to live with now is a gun and those packets of Tim Tam Slam.” 

He turns sideways to make eye contact with you for a split second before averting his gaze back on the road. So you actually pay attention to the little details. “Call it.” Felix smiles again, and somehow, you feel like a weight is being lifted off your chest. “And mind you, I have a fiancé. Well, more like ‘had’ but whatever, doesn’t matter, same thing.” 

You nearly choke on your own saliva, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “You have a what?!”

“Relax, haven’t you heard of an arranged marriage before?” He looks at you as if you’re some kind of alien species from outer space. “I was gonna give the ring to her but bummer, your friend just had to sell it.”

Arms crossed over your chest, you hold back a chuckle with a hand secured on your mouth. “Wow..” You manage to choke out between giggles. “You must be getting something impressive to be able to agree to marry a goody-two-shoes who owns more money than what she knows to do with.”

“Pardon?” Felix snorts involuntarily. “What does that suppose to mean? Are you insulting my marriage?”

‘Insulting’ is an understatement for an entire lecture that you’ve already planned out in your head that you’re about to give him a piece of but you don’t think he’s ready for that just yet. Instead, you counter softly. “Not quite, but for the most parts, yeah, I guess I am.” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and proceeds to throw daggers towards your direction with his eyes every three seconds. “But let me ask you this. If you wanna give that ring to your fiancé so badly, then do you really love her? Or is everything just a contract so that you won’t put your parents’ company at risk?” 

A comfortable silence falls upon the both of you as Felix starts replaying your words over and over again in his mind. He’s never the type to go out and about, looking for love like it’s the only purpose of his life. He’s never dated anyone before. He used to believe that love always comes at the most unexpected moment for the longest time and he should be waiting, not searching. He didn’t think much about the arranged marriage either. She was a nice girl, but they’ve only talked twice, and nothing really clicked like how he imagined love would feel like. Felix knew, he knew deep down that it wouldn’t work out after all but he was just too much of a coward to admit it. But your words hit differently, imprinting him with a little something called ‘reality’. 

Everything’s kinda screwed right now, no one knows how much longer humanity can keep up with this whole survival situation. Living on the streets, and can never get a good night's sleep. Although it does sting a bit knowing that he might die alone on this planet, it definitely gives him another point of view to look at the relationship between him and his fiancé. He doesn’t even want to imagine living in the same house with her at this point. 

“Your mom wanted you to give it to someone special right?” You tell him softly, a hand brushing over his as an attempt to soothe the ache in his chest. “Then you gotta find them. It’s not over yet. But that doesn’t mean there’s much time left. You don’t have to keep running towards something that isn’t worth it in the first place anymore.” You pause for a moment, lips curling upwards. “Because if we cease to believe in love, why would we want to live?”

Felix bursts into laughter and brushes your hand off of him. “Ew! You stole that from a movie and it’s not even good. Jesus Y/N, get some counseling.”

“Don’t shit on my pop culture references like that you uncultured swine.” 

“Just don’t do that again.”

You roll your eyes at him. “One more word and I’ll burn you down with this Jeep.” And he just smirks at you because he knows for sure that you won’t have the heart to destroy such a good car when the world is literally falling apart. Because chances are, you hate your dad’s old grey Innovator that only pumps lukewarm air inside the vehicle. In which, isn’t the most ideal thing for an apocalypse. But Woojin loves that thing far too much to throw it away so you’ve never had the heart to tell him to. 

Felix calmly parks on a random sidewalk before taking the key and exits the car. “We’re here.” You follow him not long after, eyes squinted due to the brightness of the daylight. Even though you’re barely seeing anything, you can’t seem to recognize this neighborhood. And it doesn’t look very sketchy either, pretty mediocre to say the least. You can’t seem to remember if Woojin has taken you here or not. And you’re starting to wonder how many zombies are hiding behind those buildings, seeing your scent as a solution for their never-ending thirst. Who the hell did Jisung sell that ring to?

Felix narrows his eyes and spots something in the distance. “Y/N, are you seeing this?” You quickly stand beside him, and slowly, a slouched figure comes into view. “I’ll take care of that.” He places a hand on your shoulder when the figure picks up its pace, the muscles on your back tense up at his touch. “Trust me, I’m not gonna accidentally blow your head into bits.”

“Down!” 

You quickly duck and slide yourself across the concrete surface in time before Felix can swing the baseball bat straight into your face. The bat comes in contact with the zombie harshly enough to knock it backward, onto her bottom. You and Felix look at each other for a solid three seconds before approaching the zombie again, examining her more closely. Her once blond hair is now doused in nothing but blood, sticking to her face and neck. Both of her lips are completely distorted as if another zombie gave her the kiss of Death (quite literally) as a welcome ritual. Suddenly, she jolts up from her lying position, hands wagging in midair to grab onto something. 

You jump backward on instinct as Felix brings the baseball bat down again, and again, and again until you can’t even make out the horrendous features of the zombie anymore. He scrunches his nose at the smell of the poisoned blood and tosses the metal bat away. “Never hurts to double-tap, better not get blood on my white Jeep.” 

You blurt subconsciously. “Impressive, Charming.” Okay but in your defense, Felix just smacked the hell out of the zombie with a baseball bat, he basically saved your life. Although you’re fully capable of protecting yourself, that was pretty hot. 

He’s too busy fixing the sleeves of his shirt but his eyes immediately light up at your words. “Say that again?”

“In your freaking dreams, Lee.” 

Felix pulls you in and ruffles your hair, rocking you side to side happily. “Don’t be so uptight! Complimenting me once in a while wouldn’t kill anyone now, would it?” When he’s too immersed in annoying the shit out of you, something falls out of his pocket with a small ‘clang’. 

“Wait, you dropped something—“ You manage to wiggle out of his embrace and bend down to pick it up, and your mind just stops. “Felix…isn’t that your ring?”

five. 

“Jesus Christ!” Woojin almost yells when he sees a black-eyed Felix exiting the kitchen with an ice pack on his right hand, lips swollen with several cuts across his face. “What happened to you?”

You walk into the living room not long after, tiny scratches are scattered all over your pale knuckles, blood trickling down on your cheeks like you’ve been crying red. “Okay,” Woojin shakes his head, pushing himself up from the beige-colored couch. “What the fuck happened to the both of you?”

“I punched him in the face.” “She punched me in the face.” The both of you confess in sync, exchanging questionable looks before turning away from each other. 

“And why is there blood on your face again?” Woojin swears, if Felix dares to touch you, he will put his head on a chopping block, not to mention hurting you. 

You shrug back, grabbing a water bottle from the coffee table and chug on it generously. “It’s not mine.” Without turning your head, you hand the bottle over to Felix. The boy gladly receives it, downing the whole thing left in one go. “Anyway, some mobsters appeared out of nowhere and they wanted his stupid ring. I got my ass kicked for a goddamn piece of jewelry, twice.” You merely glare at Felix who’s applying pressure to the cool pack of ice against his bruised eye, wincing every once in a while. He does feel kinda guilty, believe it or not. Maybe lying wasn’t the best option to get you to hang out with him more. There’s no way you two could have died back there, but he would be more than ready to throw the ring away for the sake of your safety. 

But either way, Jisung’s gonna be dead meat to you after this. 

“You do realize that we just kissed indirectly right?” Felix laughs when you chuck the now empty water bottle at him, hissing in anger. He’s acting like such a Lee, irritating, and carefree most of the time. In which, makes you wanna kill him with your bare hands even more in these kinds of situations. “Come here, a princess shouldn’t have blood on her pretty face.” He manages to turn you around and face him as he pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. When he leans down slightly to wipe the crimson stickiness away, your once tense muscles now relax, loosening themselves. 

Within this proximity, you’re able to take a closer look at his starry eyes with long lashes framing them perfectly, his cute button nose, his peachy lips and how his freckles are more beautiful than anything you’ve seen before. One of his hands holds your neck in place while the other is secured on your waist so it’s easier for him to get a better angle. Felix furrows his brows every now and then, being careful and gentle at the same time to get rid of the blood off your face completely. He did pull you into doing the dirty business after all. Might as well make up for it. 

You didn’t push him away because this feels...safe, and right. He makes you feel at ease after the longest time, it’s like nothing you’ve experienced before. Not even your brother can possess this sense of comfort in his presence. It almost makes you smile which is seemingly paradoxical because forty minutes ago, you were figuring out ways to hide a corpse since you couldn’t stand his nosy ass for much longer. 

“Ew, I’m getting out of here. I can’t bear seeing this.” Woojin makes a gagging noise before stumbling out of the living room with his cup of espresso, leaving you and Felix alone in the living room. A muffled silence occurs for the next thirty seconds. 

“There,” He clears his throat before pulling away. “Done.” 

You look away. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that though.”

“Anything for my princess.”

You ignore his cheeky smile before rummaging through the wooden drawers. “Sit down.” You demand once you pull out a mini first aid kit, Minho always keeps those randomly around the house just in case. One can never be too careful after all. Felix does as you say, taking a seat on the couch. He watches you taking out a cotton swab with a bottle of sanitizing solution. “Lean in.” You command while dipping the cotton swab into the solution, his hand brushing over your thigh accidentally. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You shake your head as an attempt to hide the coral tint on your cheeks. “This is gonna hurt though…” You warn him, cotton swab hovering over one of the cuts on his cheeks. Felix nods obediently, clenching his fists and squeezes his eyes shut to brace himself for the burn. He can’t gush over how cute you look anymore since he’s secretly terrified of cleaning wounds. But who isn’t?

You smirk internally. “Okay, I’m gonna count down from three to one.”

“Three..” A single drop of cold sweat rolls down on his temple. 

“Two..” He holds his breath. But before he can react properly, you’re already pressing the cotton swab onto his wound, your other hand pinning his down firmly. “Felix quit moving already! How old are you for fuck’s sake?!” You laugh wholeheartedly, struggling to hold him in place while cleaning his opened cuts with the solution. 

Felix shrieks like a little child. “Ah! Ow! Y/N! Ah! Y/N! Y/N, I SWEAR TO GOD!” He succeeds in pulling away after a good three minutes, the burn from the alcohol feels like there’s fire coursing through his veins, burning a hole right through his skin. He’s not doing that ever again. “That hurt like a motherfucker.” Whimpering, his brows are knitted together in agony when you put a bandage over the wound. “You didn’t even finish counting, I hate you.”

 “There there you big baby.” Smiling at him, your hand gently caresses his calloused ones. It doesn’t take him long to realize how soft your hands are, and how cold they are compared to him too. So he decides to link your fingers together, hoping to give you some of his warmth. You completely freeze at his action and choose to look anywhere but his eyes, from the broken TV to the random magazines on the coffee table and his shiny pistol next to them. 

Felix brushes his thumb over the back of your hand and chuckles. “See, you do know how to smile. It’s not that hard to smile in front of me after all, is it?” He brings your knuckles to his lips and peppers small kisses over them lovingly. It makes his heart crack a little upon seeing them all scratched up, because of him. Little actions like this always make you feel fuzzy on the inside, especially when it comes from someone like Felix? You’re done for. 

“I didn’t see this. I’ve never seen this. I’m not seeing this. I will never see this again.” He pulls away shyly when Jisung starts teasing you both as he passes by the living room from upstairs. Oh right, weren’t you planning on decking his face for setting you on a ‘date’ with a guy you hardly know only after three solid days when he kicked your ass?

“HAN JISUNG GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” 

six.

Falling for Lee Felix is scarier than getting infected with the Mad Cow Disease (or Mad Zombie Disease). It’s official. But knowing the basic bitch that you are, being loopy in love with him is quite inevitable. There’s no use fighting against fate anyway, still, you’re going to postpone it for as long as you can because you definitely don’t wanna get too attached during an apocalypse. 

Sadly, having Felix share a room with Chan right beside yours doesn’t exactly help you avoid him. He always roams the house half-naked at night like he’s trying to put his chiseled abs up for auction after every shower. One time he almost gave you a cardiac arrest when you found him rummaging through the fridge at two in the morning without a shirt on. There were some nights where you didn’t even get a wink of sleep because Chan and he were too busy jamming to music even though they know that the walls in this house are clearly paper-thin. However, you chose to let them slide for the sake of Jisung’s and Minho’s so-called ‘beauty sleep’ aka their spontaneous cuddle sessions throughout the day. That’s only an excuse to avoid him even more. 

Felix obviously knows what’s up, so he’s been acting extra annoying these days to get your attention. He keeps popping his head inside your room (which was initially a storage room but you insisted on having it since you didn’t want to share your questionable sleeping habits with any of the guys) and asks for random stuff that never seems to make sense. Like who needs a fucking stapler when the whole world is falling into a crisis? You still kept yourself together and didn’t throw hands at him because you’re not planning on giving him what he wanted. 

But what Felix wants? Felix gets. 

“Good morning Princess..” He half-whispers and half-singsongs after shutting the door of your room with his foot. “Thank fucking God.” He mentally bows to whatever gods up there that’s pushing their blood family feud aside to bless him for the day. You’re still fast asleep, snoring softly with your grey blanket wrapped around your body. 

He’s impressed by how you still manage to not wake up early every other day because there’s no curtain unlike his room so the sunlight can easily peer right through, casting a delicate light on your figure. Surprisingly, you don’t sleep like Chan, with his leg dangling off the edge of the bed and his blanket’s on the floor by the time the sun rises again. You sleep with four limbs curled inwards, hands grabbing two full fists of the grey fabric like a puppy. 

He also notices how you’re still keeping pictures of your childhood memories on one of the empty bookshelves. There’s one with you and Woojin standing in the middle of Time Square when you both came to the States. And there’s another one where you’re dressed up as Harley Quinn with Hyunjin as the Joker on your right, Jisung as Rick Flag to your left and your brother as Deadshot squatting on the ground for your senior year’s Halloween party. Although you’re more of a Marvel gal yourself. 

“Y/N...” Felix whispers softly as he sits down on your bed, careful not to wake you up. His original plan to have you chase him up and down the house is already going down the drain since he really doesn’t want to ruin a good night's sleep. Chan has done that to him one too many times and he sure knows the consequences. Heck, Chan might not even see him after this. 

Felix outstretches his hand carefully, caressing your cheekbone like you’re made of glass. He can’t help but act like a creep because you’re too cute for your own good when you’re sleeping. It’s kinda nice actually, to not have you yelling at him for not putting clothes on right after his shower or wrestling him to the floor whenever he headlocks you at the most random times. 

Suddenly, your eyes shoot open. The moment you see another human being’s presence in your own personal bubble, you automatically grab him by the neck before pinning him down onto the bed, locking his arms behind his back. “Ow! Ow! Dude, chill!” Felix cries out from underneath you, struggling to breathe properly when you’re practically crushing his lungs. Okay, he definitely did not see that coming. 

“My goodness, what are you doing here?!” You gasp in realization, pushing yourself off the bed. 

“Woojin- said-“ he chokes out between uneven breaths. “I could- come in- and wake you up.” 

You cross your arms and sigh. “Yeah, come in.” You say with expressive hands. “Not touching me without my consent.” 

He winces at the red marks across his wrists. “Since when can you fight someone like that?” Yeah, those aren’t going away anytime soon. 

“What part of ‘Zombie Apocalypse Self-Learn Defense Basics 101’ don’t you understand?” You yawn tiredly before running a hand through your bed head. “Anyway, what do you want?” 

Felix beams innocently, taking in the sight of your pajamas. “Your attention.” And you internally thank your brother for not doing laundry yesterday (water’s also running low), which means you had to borrow Minho’s PJs instead of wearing your Mickey Mouse sweatpants with the tank top from your old basketball team.  

You really don’t have time for this, you think. Coldly, “Why?” you fake a lifeless smile. 

“You’ve never spoken to me since the day when those mobsters beat the shit out of us.” He pouts like a sad kitten. “Look, I know that it’s my fault okay? I’m sorry. But I really just wanted to hang out with you. If you didn’t play hard to get, you would have saved us a trip to some sketchy neighborhood.” 

You stop him right there. “First of all, I did talk to you. Just a maximum of five words per day. And secondly, they didn’t beat the shit out of us, we made them run back to wherever they came from, crying for their mommy while soiling their pants.” 

“There!” He exclaims. “You said it yourself. Five words per day. Why? Am I that much of an asshole to hold a civil conversation with? Don’t tell me that you’re still holding grudges from the day we first met.” 

“So what if I hold grudges? Do you think holding my best friend at gunpoint is gonna make me wanna befriend you?”

“Okay, bad example—“

“Look, can we talk this out later? I need to go outside and look for some food. We’re running out of those premade, frozen chicken nuggets that my brother’s obsessed with. As always.” You push him aside and place your hand on the doorknob. But Felix catches your hand in time before you can twist it, yanking it back so that you’re facing him, dead in the eye. He’s not letting go of his chance again. “Let-me-go.” You deadpan but receive a frown from him as a reply. 

“No,” Felix looks like you just spit on him, his mocha eyes are now unreadable, almost hurt at why you’re acting so cold towards him. Some guys find it hot when girls have this kind of facade on, but this? This shit hurts him, tremendously. You might see him as a spoiled brat at day and party animal at night who just happens to be friends with your brother for all he knows. “I don’t trust your definition of ‘later’. Who knows? You might never let me into your life again after this conversation. I don’t like people shutting me out like this. Tell me, Y/N, do you really hate me that much? If so, I solemnly swear I will never talk to you again.”

Your prepared beforehand witty retort grows dead on the tip of your tongue. His eyes...they’re not lying. It makes your heart crack a bit upon seeing how sad they look right now. Perhaps you were being too harsh on him? Maybe you shouldn’t have judged him from the get-go? “You care about me, don’t you?” Felix reaches his hand upwards to tug a strand of hair behind your ear. He gently grabs your hand and places them on his cheekbone, where a scar is fading by time. “Remember this? You treated me. You do care, Y/N. You’re not stupid enough to think that I didn’t know right?”

You retrieve your hand and scoff. “Why would I care? Did I look like I cared? The only reasons I treated your wounds were because I could witness your pathetic state and I punched you in the face previously. Totally didn’t regret that but still, I wanted to make it up to you.” You say, desperately trying to wiggle your way out of this conversation because you’re not enjoying where this is going. 

He inches closer and closer until he’s a breath away from your lips. “Because when you were treating my wounds, you had that dumb look on your face whenever you’re focused.” And you finally exhale when he pulls away, backing out of your room with a smirk. “I’ll wait in the car, your Highness.” 

seven.

Going grocery shopping with Felix is rather stressful. Not because there are zombies spontaneously popping out of nowhere every five minutes, but because you quickly, quickly realize that this boy knows nothing about food other than stuffing his face until he can’t even pick himself up anymore. He can’t tell the difference between actually good meat and meat that’s been spoiled for several weeks. You literally can’t even fathom why because the foul smell would definitely give it away but unfortunately, he doesn’t even spare a second to suspect the sketchy hues of green and blue on the red surface. 

But hey, at least he can kick some zombies’ asses when you’re too busy deciding between salmon and tuna. You’d always end up getting both anyway because why not? Guess this is what you get for not having to pay for anything. Being stuck with an uneducated fool who’s never once experienced working in the kitchen. The area around here is somewhat isolated so the stores are still pretty stocked up with all of the essentials. Thank God they haven’t run out of Woojin’s favorite chicken nuggets. 

“Do you even know what this is?” You throw your hands up midair in disbelief, referring to the pile of grapefruits that are now half-way empty for no particular reason. 

Felix makes a thinking face, lips pursing. “I think it’s a flamingo.” 

“Lee Yongbok, you gotta be shitting me—“

He stops midway towards the frozen aisle. “Woah woah slow down bro, where did you get that name from?” His Korean name is as confidential as Chan’s secret drawers full of his guilty pleasure food. Not many people call him that because he secretly hates it and whoever takes that advantage to make fun of him deserves the cruelest of punishment. Felix frowns furiously at you before grabbing several packs of the chicken nuggets, fries, and some dumplings to throw them into the cart along with his Tim Tam Slam and your KitKat. “Chan told you right? He’s been on my ass all week since we moved in with you guys.”

You help him with stocking up canned food. “Why though? He seems like such a nice guy.” Okay except for the fact that he almost blew Jisung’s brain out. But you’re not gonna dwell on the past. “No worries though, everyone has probably known your Korean name by now.”

“This is not what I signed up for.”

You aggressively grab him by the neck to ruffle his hair, laughing at his misery. “Look at us, we’re already becoming so civil, I bet my brother is loving this.”

Felix tugs himself free from your grip to fix his hair and huffs. “Could be fate, you know?” He wiggles his brows, making you gag as you both make your way out of the store. 

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “And they say I’m the crazy one.”

“No! I’m serious!” He exclaims with two hands up in defense. “One thing leads to another. Are you seeing how far we’ve come?” He pauses for a bit when the two of you reach the car so that he can throw everything to the backseats. “Jisung impulsively stole my ring, which made us run into each other. I met you again because I just happen to be friends with your brother. And since you tried to avoid me so hard, I had an excuse to piss you off so that I’m making up to you right now. How is that not fate?” He ends his speech before entering the car, inserting his key to start the engine.

You jump into the passenger’s seat, scoffing. “Thanks for the pep talk, pretty sure fate’s doing all the work. Now, where are we going?”

“I’m hungry, and I’m craving something.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “And I’m supposed to care because..?”

“Shut up and turn on some music.” He tosses you his phone. 

Felix’s playlist consists of a handful of Coldplay’s songs with some other upbeat, trendy ones. He knows enough lyrics to sing along to throughout the drive. You look out the window and loosen yourself up a bit. His voice is surprisingly soothing, a stark contrast to his usual deep talking voice which is kinda nice to listen to. Both of you never start talking because you’re already dozing off to Dreamland because he had the audacity to drag your ass out of bed at eight in the morning. Your head constantly knocks onto the cool glass window every two minutes or so, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering your slumber. 

It’s almost noon, and the sun’s probably the only thing that’s keeping Felix awake. He’s hungry, thirsty, sleepy and kind of stiff from occupying the driver’s seat for way too long. He didn’t get any sleep last night, busy thinking of ways to get your attention again. Luckily, he didn’t walk out of your room with a black eye this time. Felix mentally exhales when he pulls up, and his eyes are met with the giant purple and pink neon sign: “Fancy” aka Chan’s favorite place. He shuts the engine off before leaning over to wake you up. 

“Meow,” he flinches at the sound and immediately turns to you. You would never possibly make that, would you? “Meow,” there it is again. His eyes shift again to the backseats, squinting hard only to make out a yellow ball of fluff shuffling through the bags of groceries. “Oh my God Soonie, what the hell are you doing here?” He sighs in relief when the cat finally looks up at him, green eyes piercing through the dark. 

You stir in your slumber and eventually wake up upon hearing the commotion. “What happened?” A loud yawn escapes your lips when you rub your eyes tiredly. You turn around only to see Minho’s oldest cat pawing at the paper bags.  “Are you seeing Soonie in the backseats right now or am I just delusional?” 

“Well, that makes two of us. She probably sneaked out again, Minho’s gonna throw hands soon.” Felix scoops Soonie into his arms easily and opens the door. Then, he turns around to look at you. “Come on, I bet you’re hungry, my treat.” 

eight.

“Food,” Felix tells you when he shuts the door behind his back. He takes in the cool air of the diner and exhales deeply. God bless humanity for air conditioners. 

You nod back without looking at him. “Yeah, food.” And you let him drag you across the diner by the wrist. 

The diner is definitely not the place that needs to be booked months in advance. It’s not the kind with large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, velvet tables or delicate classical music in the background. It leans more towards the retro style with checkered floor, colorful and fun pieces of furniture, somewhere that makes you feel cozy too. You like it here. 

Felix outstretches his limbs and yawns, petting Soonie gently. The cat isn’t as impulsive as she is whenever Doongie or Dori is trying to steal her toy. Thank goodness. “Nayeon!” He smiles and waves at the brunette girl behind the counter. 

She quickly catches your eyes with her bunny-like smile, radiant skin, and pretty eyes. When she smiles, her cheeks are bunched up, eyes wrinkling into little crescent moons. The type of smile that will make anyone a little breathless. Then, you hear Felix mumbling that something smells really fucking good when he leans over the counter. You look around the diner once again, although it’s empty, there are still people working as if they don’t mind the given circumstances. These people are all high, they are all insane. They have to be.

Nayeon pulls out a pen along with her notepad, eyeing you with curiosity. “Hey kid, where’s Chan?” And you quickly break eye contact with her, pretending to have some kind of interest in the photo of her with other eight girls right beside the menu. They were on a tropical island, smiling and laughing with the ocean waves splashing against them. All of them are incredibly gorgeous, making you feel small in comparison.

“He’s elsewhere with Woojin today. I’ll take the usual,” Felix slides the smaller version of the menu across the counter, perking a brow for you to take a look at it. “Choose whatever you like.” 

You shrug. “Anything will do.” 

“Then two of what I already said then.” He nods towards the waitress, earning another warm smile. 

Nayeon taps her pen against her cheek, whispering. “Who’s that? Did you find someone?” She looks down at how his hand is holding onto yours and grins mischievously. Felix automatically drops your hand at her words, blushing furiously while looking down in slight embarrassment. “Ah, no need to explain, I’ve got you.” She places a hand on his shoulder and laughs before punching in your order. 

“It’s not—“

Nayeon puts her index finger over his mouth. “I’ve got you.” She’s never seen Felix hanging out with any girl other than his sisters before so she’s 90% sure that you’re not just any girl to be able to go to this specific diner with him. By the look of it, there’s gotta be something between you two. How you’re constantly staring into midair and anywhere else to avoid her eagle eyes, how Felix’s cheeks are redder than a tomato. Everything just speaks for itself. “Your orders will be right out.” She beams and walks back into the kitchen. You almost bury yourself alive hearing multiple females squealing and giggling in the distance. 

“Sorry about that,” he pushes himself away from the counter before smiling sheepishly. “They just get excited because—“

“Because you’re a coward who’s never been in a relationship before.” You finish his sentence with a smirk, snatching Soonie from his pocket and walk over to one of the round tables. 

Felix settles down on the opposite side of the table with a sigh. He shoots you a dirty look before pouting. “God, you’re so mean. Stop exposing my miserable, non-existent love life.” 

[1:35p.m.]

meanhoe | uhm hello Kardashians, I’m looking for my eldest daughter Soonie?

woobear | not the living room!

[1:36p.m.]

trashbin | not my room!

drama lama | not the backyard!

old man | not the kitchen either!

[1:37p.m.]

quokka | not the bar too!

meanhoe | tf are you doing at a bar?

quokka | retrieving my sanity…

[1:38p.m.]

meanhoe | you know that my whiskey is wayyy better right?

quokka |  DID I STUTTER?

meanhoe | swiped left.

[1:39p.m.] 

y/n | she was inside Felix’s Jeep for some reason, we’re at a diner rn, some place called ‘Fancy’?

old man | LEE FELIX YOU TRAITOR!!

old man | YOU BETTER BRING ME SOME WHEN YOU GET HOME.

[1:40p.m.]

meanhoe | bring her home safely, and I’ll make dinner.

meanhoe | if not, I will grab you both by the throat and tear you apart, piece by piece.

meanhoe | there will be no negotiation, no compromise, and no mercy.

You just grin at your phone before putting the device away and shudder slightly. That’s enough Internet for today, boys being boys. This is why you’re low-key terrified of cat lovers. “Well aren’t you busy,” Felix scoffs when he sees that you’re not having any interest in one of the proper conversations with him that rarely happens. “Too busy texting with some cute boy to talk to me instead?” He cocks his head sideways, mustering his best puppy eyes or in this case, kitten eyes because he looks just like ‘Puss in Boots’.

You pinch his nose cutely, making him back off in pain. “If you’re saying Minho aka the freaky dad cat is cute then yes, I am extremely occupied with him threatening my life for having his beloved daughter in my arms.” Then, you allow him to glare at you for as long as he likes while you’re too focused on admiring the view from the window. The sky is oddly blue today, not too cloudy, not too sunny, the air is not that stuffy either. Maybe on a good day, even a zombie apocalypse seems pretty normal. You can understand why these girls still want to run the diner during times like this, simply because they love their job. And they want to help those in need because it’s the least they can do, to give people a heartwarming meal. 

“Sorry,” Nayeon walks towards your table with a bowl of warm milk. “The food will be out in a minute, I just don’t want the little thing to starve and be all miserable while you guys are stuffing your faces.” She pets Soonie with the warmest smile and the kitten purrs into her touch, closing her eyes in satisfaction. 

Felix pulls her out of your arms and gently places her next to him on the cushioned surface. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that though. Minho spoils her on a daily basis.”

Curiously, “When did this happen?” You frown before running your index finger over a small hole that just happens to be the size of a bullet, cautious enough to not accidentally cut your finger. 

“Oh, that,” The brunette waitress' expression mirrors yours, slightly confused and intrigued. “Huh, I wonder…”

And all of the colors drain on your face. “Duck,” you say breathlessly, breaths coming in short. 

“What?” Felix can barely hear his own voice. 

Nayeon suddenly looks alarmed. “Everyone get down!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, arms flailing like a madwoman. “GET DOWN! NOW!”

Just then, a bullet pierces right through the window, glass shattering into pieces as you see Nayeon clutching onto her own stomach, blood oozing from her fresh wound. You’re ready to yelp aloud when Felix pulls you down onto the ground with him, letting his body cover up your head and shards of glass cut his cheeks. The diner grows uncomfortably silent when no sound is made, but you still keep your eyes shut and your face buried in his chest. 

“Hey hey look at me,” Felix tells you, angling your jaw so that you can make eye contact with him although your eyes are quivering in fear. It’s not the first time you’ve heard a gunshot before but he’s never seen you so shaken up about it before. It hurts seeing you like this. “We’re gonna be okay—“

Before you can reply without tripping over your own words, something falls onto the tiled floor, rolling across the surface to reach the other side of the diner. You squint your eyes hard to make out the shape of the object. It was almost the size of an avocado, round-ish, and dark. No one seems to notice it at all until there’s an ear-piercing sound that keeps beeping, echoing throughout the entire diner. 

“Shit—“ You breathe out and hold onto Felix tightly, bracing yourself for the blow. 

That’s when the entire place explodes, destroying every single thing until there’s nothing left but the grey ashes that are following the wind to reach the burning sky above. 

Utterly demolished, you’d say.

nine.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Woojin says softly when he sits down next to you on your bed. He gives your hand a squeeze in reassurance, heartbroken at your state. You look as pale as a ghost, the bags under your eyes more evident than ever, and your lips chapped, starting to turn purple. You haven’t touched the food that Minho offered for the past few days, still refusing to talk to any of the guys. But he was relieved that you were saved from the pile of ruins by one of the workers there - Jihyo, he believes that’s her name. He wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you. 

“No,” you shake your head profusely. “Not now.”

“So the thought of losing him does scare the shit out of you?”

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Then you’ve found your happy ending,” your brother ruffles your hair and stands up. “Yes, right in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.” He smiles at you one last time, “Anyway, you better find him then. Godspeed.” before closing the door with a small ‘click’. 

Meanwhile, you’re staring at the wooden floor blankly, starting to wonder how filthy rich the previous family living here was. By the look of it, they seemed to be pretty well off but were probably scared shitless when the disease spread like wildfire. With that, they took off running, leaving everything behind to preserve their precious lives. But who knows? They could be some random zombies out there, roaming the streets mindlessly by now. 

You space out a lot these days, thinking about random things, but mostly him. You keep on asking yourself where in the world is he, how is he holding up, but it’s all pointless since you don’t even know if he’s still… Anyway, but when you peer at the small mirror on your table, you can see a small glimmer of another presence inside your room. Sometimes you don’t realize how far you can go whenever you’re thinking hard about something. It gets to the point where you don’t even move when Minho or Hyunjin is yelling or screaming about some stupid things right in front of your eyes. 

You take another look, eyes growing wide. It’s a glimmer of a pink-haired boy. 

“Hey Princess, not gonna choke me to death for intruding your room this time?” Felix jokes before kneeling down in front of you. It takes you an entire two minutes to understand that he’s here. He’s really here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him in person that you’re starting to get emotional just by looking into his eyes. They’re still starry, warm and give you a sense of comfort whenever your gazes touch. “Hey, it’s all good now.” He wipes a single tear away from your face that you didn’t even take notice of. 

You choke out, debating on whether you should be bawling your eyes out because he’s safe and sound or kick his ass for worrying you. “You can’t just come back and say that! Do you know how scared I was?! Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights I’ve gone through? And now you’re just gonna come back from the Underworld to tell me that ‘It’s all good now’? Well then if you excuse me, I’m gonna go murder my friends and see if it w—“

Felix figures you still haven’t changed one bit. He knows that you’re a lover, not a fighter. Talking big on the outside but easily hurt on the inside. That’s one of the things that makes you who you are today, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. So he wordlessly leans in to capture your lips in his, swallowing every word, every nonsense, every nag that you’re gonna throw his way until you completely melt into his touch. The kiss makes your head a little fuzzy, and butterflies are tickling at the pit of your stomach. For someone who’s never been in a relationship before, Felix will definitely make you giddy all day with a kiss like this. It’s kind of innocent, kind of childish but unforgettable. 

The deeper the kiss gets, the more you think about your conversation with him the other day when he’s driving you to the diner. Fate might be a thing, but still a debatable topic. You’re not gonna say that you believe in fate because that’s a whole lot of commitment for someone who can’t even stay up to date with a short web drama. But maybe, just maybe, fate is doing its job just fine after all because you can’t ask for anyone else to be with you at the end of the world. You know that Felix’s not here just because the universe pities you (or him), or he will love you just for the hell of it either. Everything happens for a reason, but more importantly than ever, he’s not going anywhere this time. You didn’t ask, you’re sure of it by the look in his mocha eyes. 

Because like you’ve said before, his eyes never lie. They could never. 

You pull away before planting your hands on either side of his shoulders, chest heaving up and down due to shortness of breaths. “How did you...you know, make it?”

“I really thought that I was going to suffocate to my untimely death under the ruins of the diner but the girls found me later on when they were digging through everything. I was knocked out for a good week, some scratches here and there, but no one was hurt severely“ he stops himself before continuing when he sees your glossy eyes. “Nayeon is fine too. She didn’t lose that much blood, surprisingly.” 

You let silence fall upon the both of you for a second when a rush of relief runs down your spine. Then, your lips twitch slightly at what you’re going to say next. “Do you know why I treated your wounds that day? Do you know why I stared at the floor when your friend was teasing us? Do you know why I spent the past few days being all depressed and teary in bed?” You ask Felix with such determination that it makes him chuckle. 

“Easy,” he grins and caresses your cheekbone the exact same way he did a few days ago. “Because you fell for a spoiled rich kid who knows absolutely nothing about being in love. Just like how I did for you, a girl who’s best at killing the walking dead, not cooking, not cleaning, none of that shit. Weirdly enough, fate brought the two of us together again when we’re both lying on the borderline between life and death.” 

You roll your eyes at him and finally crack a smile. The smile that he adores the most. “Then what if fate does us apart? What if it doesn’t want us to end up with each other again? What if this isn’t a happy ending but a beginning to something much more terrifying?”

“In that case,” Felix leans in again, his breath fanning your cheeks. “I will always find you. And look for you, and run to you until I no longer have the strength to lift myself off the ground with my own feet.” He gently slips the silver ring that he treasures with his entire life onto your finger and places small kisses on your knuckles, looking as beautiful as ever. 

He’s right, and wrong at the same time. The idea of fate does have some kind of power over mundane mortals like you because you’ve been tied down to the idea of not being able to control your own life since you’re born. But on the other hand, sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hand to be able to get what you want in life. So seeing how determined Felix is to find you even if it means walking to the other side of the planet with his bare feet in spite of being such a naïveté who believes in things that are considered dumb, you know that he’s being serious. 

At the same time, you accept the fact that you didn’t find love, it found you because it’s got a little something to do with fate, destiny and what’s written in the stars. 

You tell him, voice hoarse. “You’ll find me and never let me go?”

“Not this lifetime, not even in another one.” He says with a smile, eyes crinkling. 

[paperbackpieces-makemewhole]

While Merrick never really strayed from her preferred targets and her set MO, she did like to change how she lured them out of public settings. Most of the time, it was all too easy: false promises of a good time back at their place, leading them to wake up strapped to a table at hers.

But there was something oh so fun about playing the victim. Making the scum think it would get what it wants, reveling in their look of shock when they realize there's a knife in their gut.

This is why she is currently dressed to the nines with a hand clamped over her mouth as she lets her next target drag her toward an alley. Down what she believes to be a deserted street. Pretending to try and fight him off with all her might as they become enveloped in darkness.

@merrick-of-violet

Tonight had been going like any other night for Enzo — bar-hopping to find a target that fits his MO, getting aforementioned target to a secluded place, killing them, cleaning up and then finding a different secluded place to let the adrenaline drop.

He's currently on the last part of that routine, smoking in an alleyway about a block away from the bar he'd been in, when he hears muffled yelling and struggling accompanied by footsteps a little closer to the entrance of the alley.

Oh. And here he thought the night was over.

In the blink of an eye, the scum is crumpled against the wall, his skull bashed in and bleeding from blunt force trauma. Enzo glances over at Merrick, wiping his knuckles with a cloth. "You okay?" he asks, the gentleness of his voice a complete contrast to the fact that his knuckles are bruised from punching the daylights out of the guy on the floor.

[stilesxeveryone]

The Rewatch, pt2

Feel free to message me about any of my dot points! Ultimately this is just for me, so I can remember all my thoughts the next time I do a season or episode specific fics, but I greatly encourage discussion!! None of my friends watch teen wolf so I can’t discuss things with them :(

Season 1, episode 7

Stiles: I’m not scared of you!

Peter: and I took that personally

To be honest I don’t think I’d ever take a werewolf fight to my high school, like everything is gonna be locked and oh god there are so many stairs and nowhere to hide

I will still never understand why Scott threw Derek under the bus in this episode? Like I feel like saying Derek is the murderer that’s behind everything just raises way more questions than answers and would cause more problems than solutions

Stiles punching Jackson? Valid and wonderful

Okay I’m gonna be honest here, there was a big old chunk of this episode that was just dramatic tension and no dialogue so I did not follow a single part of that because I’m also drawing dinosaurs at the moment

Also I find it interesting that Peter (the big bad alpha) seems to want Scott to kill his friends and join him as pack member. Why does he decide that one pack member is better than turning the others and forcing them to join as well? Maybe he believes it will create stronger loyalty, but in my opinion I feel like numbers are more important at this point in time

Season 1, episode 8

Oh no I hate this episode

Scott and Lydia kissing is actually one of the worst things I’ve ever seen (and why I hate this episode), and wow asshole move from both of them

Watching this episode makes me feel less bad about the fic I half-finished where Scott major attacks Stiles on a full moon because uhhh, it’s kinda accurate to the asshole ways of early Scott

Werewolf - now with added visual hallucinations? (Also I still hate their beta shift faces so much, especially Derek’s)

Okay but yes to a canon divergence AU where Chris and Kate Argent think that Stiles is the second beta werewolf instead of Jackson

Season 1, episode 9

I really wish they put in like any effort at all to make the photos that Scott sends to Allison actual photos? Instead of just screenshots from previous episodes? Like where are my cute couples selfies or sneaky candid photos during study dates and shit

Jackson dos a really good job at being absolutely creepy, like I hate it but also good shit

Stiles, at literally every interaction with Derek, saying he’s not afraid of him and being confident and then immediately being frightened by him (and the same happening with Peter in the high school) is character consistency and I appreciate that

I wish people wrote more Stiles and Danny friendships tbh (as well as relationships to be fair), I just really enjoy all their scenes together

“You must be Stiles” yes bitch!!! I always find it funny how fucking soft Peter says that line, like his voice is so gentle even though he’s meant to be the big bad wolf and all that

I’ve been meaning to say this since episode one but I love the music they use, as in the actual songs and such, but I literally hate the instrumental stuff they use. Very rarely does it build tension the right way and it almost never sounds nice

Season 1, episode 10

I still continue to not at all understand why Peter needs Scott

“You’re way too pretty to be out here all by yourself”

Okay but Allison/Lydia power couple (Lydia looks so good with red lipstick)

The whole scene of Stiles’ father being drunk and saying “I miss talking to you, and I miss your mum” is so soft and sad and personal and I love it

Oh my god I totally forgot about the part where Peter takes Scott’s mum on a date, that’s so weird

Also “you have incredible skin” is so serial killer-y, I can’t believe Melissa let him get away with that

Jackson really needs to listen to his gut more, like stop trusting the scary wolf men and go do some homework (also wow Derek really ripped into him about the fact that no one cares about him)

Season 1, episode 11

My god, Derek deserves to kill Kate. She’s so gross and he deserves a little revenge

Allison getting Lydia to go with Stiles to the dance! I forgot about that! As always, give me Allison/Stiles sibling/best friend relationship or give me death! Also Stiles/Lydia friendship is very good as well

Did Peter just say that Allison should go for a lighter dress? While she’s holding a black and white dress? Sir this makes no sense (also Allison looks great in dark outfits)

Also there’s no way teachers don’t immediately notice Jackson giving alcohol to some of the other kids, they’d be watching the drinks like hawks dude

Jackson goes through so much this season (and the next), it makes me feel so sorry for him

The CGI for Peter’s fangs extending is honestly so gross and I hate it

“Because you’re the clever one, aren’t you” if only more people understood this

Season 1, episode 12

Peter making a period joke is so,, absolutely unnecessary and weird and I hate it

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Allison’s mum is a snake and I hate her

Also Allison basically has to decide on whether her boyfriend is a monster or if her aunt (and family in general) are monsters and that is a tough decision, especially with how manipulative Kate is. I don’t remember what exactly she does in season 2 but idk how much I can blame her for it

Parking garage scene!! My favourite to read canon divergent scenes about

In defense of Scott, some of my passwords do in fact involve the name of my significant other, but in argument against Scott, I’m a little more creative than just his first name

I wish this show gave me the classic wolf howls instead of the weird, low, grumbly sound that makes no sense to me

I tried writing a parking garage AU once and it went horribly, but I think I’ll be coming back to it soon! Having some very fun ideas right now

Stiles and Chris scene! God bless Stiles just straight up not taking any of his shit and putting him in his place about the Hale fire

Also I don’t think it gets mentioned enough that Jackson witnesses this entire scene of Stiles standing up against the big bad hunter

I honestly really like that the code is “we hunt those who hunt us”, I think it’s valid and it’s more about self defense, even if Kate and the others don’t treat it like that

They really set Peter on fire again, huh, definitely not adding to his trauma and major pain or anything

Overall I do enjoy this season, I mean there’s a reason I continued watching it and am back here again for another rewatch. I think there are definitely some issues with the writing, of character morals and motivations not always aligning with their actions and that kind of thing. I really hope that as the show continues I see improvement in Tyler Posey’s acting, because until now I’ve never really paid too much attention to him honestly (which is a concern since he’s the main character).

I do really wish that they didn’t set Peter on fire, and I find it interesting that Stiles and Jackson were more involved with Peter’s death than Scott was. Although if Scott (or anyone other than Derek) killed Peter we would have avoided like all of season 2, but I do enjoy season 2.

I really enjoy seeing the characters interacting with each other honestly, especially Stiles interacting with any of the “bad guys” and the bad guys (Chris, Derek, Peter) and I really wish we got to see him talk with Kate, honestly.

[sloppy-butcher]

Ok,new follower here. So this blog is amazing,you writings are just beautiful. I hope I can become as good as you, beause I would like to open my own blog, but I always think my works are too bad. Anyways, I don't know if you write soulmates stuff, like your partner name is written on your body or thigs like that. If so, could you write something related with Joey and Frank sharing the same male sm reader? If you don't feel comfortable writing for three characters or for a male reader it's fine!

THANK YOU SO MUCH for your support T_T I love you so much! I encourage you to start that blog because the only way to get better is to try. and if you do start a blog, drop me that link babey

So i spent a hot minute finding which soulmate alternative universe would best fit your request since you didn’t specifically state which au you wanted. Well, i found a reaaallly interesting one. hope it’s okay

This AU states that soulmates share pain. If one is hurt the other shows their wounds or bruises. I think this will work well with Frank and Joey and a survivor!S/O. I have no problem writing for a male S/O (although i will probs just make this gender nuetral as i dont see gender really playing an important role in this (and i prefer gender nuetral tings)) or for three characters. i will have to write this in HeadCanon form as i am very lazy and i dont want to write like a full fic T_T cause you know.... i have toomuch to say

hope these are okay? ily

Soulmate Au HeadCanons: Poly!The Legion (Frank and Joey) with a Survivor S/O

They realized their connection long before they even knew you existed. The theory was that soulmates shared pain and it was obvious to them that they were meant to be together. Joey would share in Franks pain, he could feel the scar that tore across his face and Frank could feel when Joey had worked himself far past his breaking point. They thought they were the only ones connected in this psychic-link, bound by a force too grand and cosmic to be comprehended by simple-minded mortals. But like the universe, fate works in mysterious ways and everything changed when you joined the Fog.

Joey first noticed it when he went to sit down at the end of a particularly gruelling workday. He felt his left shoulder explode into a burning hot pain and his body seized with the sudden shock. He barely held back his cries of a surprise but Frank wasn’t so well-restrained. Joey heard him from across the Lodge and fearing for his friend, ran off in the direction of his call ignoring his own body screaming for him to stop. He found Frank surrounded by a worried Julie and Susie. They looked between him and Joey, expressions from behind their masks piercing through to Joey's soul. They were worried for their friends, Frank’s scream and Joey’s sluggish and limp stature was enough to tell the girls that the pain the two were experiencing was, no doubt, incredibly excruciating. No one knew what had just happened, neither of them had been hurt or injured, and they feared that maybe the two were being punished by the Entity for a lacklustre performance. But both boys assured they did well enough to keep the thing satisfied and when the pain spontaneously faded, the whole incident was pushed out of their minds and momentarily forgotten.

But the pain never stopped completely. It was sporadic, turning on randomly like a lightswitch bursting with newfound anger and agony that would contort their limbs and burn their muscles. And there was nothing they could do to alleviate the pain, no amount of massaging or rubbing could take away the sharp edge of the hurt; there weren’t even enough painkillers in the realm to quell the agony. The only thing the boys could do was just sit there and wait for the pain to decide to go away. It was torture, sometimes the simple act of sitting alone was pure unadulterated suffering. But still, the boys had no idea where this pain was coming from.

It was only after Joey returned from a trial in which he had mori’d a rather annoying and pesky survivor that something started to click. Joey walked into the main lounge of the Resort and found his friends standing around the fire pit waiting for him. Frank had his shirt off and the pants of his left leg rolled up. Ordinarily the sight of Frank without his shirt on would excite Joey but something made him hesitate. A harsh red scar ripped down Frank’s chest and when Frank noticed Joey's reaction he held out his left arm for the other to inspect. Another red wound ran across the forearm. There was no mistaking it now. It was their trademark kill, a stab at the left arm followed by the grabbing of the left ankle then finished with the brutal gutting from the collar bone all the way down to the hip. “We watched it appear.” Julie’s voice wavered with concern. “We watched it appear on him as if...” She broke off ‘as if Joey himself did it to him.’. Joey approached Frank. Through the pinpricks of his mask, Joey could see Frank's eyes and he could feel his pain. Without saying much the girls made Joey take off his own shirt and directed him to stand next to Frank. When Julie stepped back to inspect both boys she raised a hand to cover the mouth of her mask and Susie audibly gasped. They were identical, both bore the exact same scars of the exact same knife.

To be honest, the boys would never have figured out the source of their shared pain. Combined the two barely make up a single brain cell so it was by the grace of God or something else that allowed the truth to finally be exposed. It was in a trial between you and Frank. The killer had been run around for the past ten minutes and with no sign of catching his elusive prey. You were impressed by your capable teammate and when they went down just outside the opened exit gate you leapt into action to save the wounded hero. You ended up sacrificing yourself for them, a worthy trade, everyone else got out except you. And, to you, that was okay. You were okay with this. Frank, however, was not. He was beyond furious at being denied his prey and when he trudged back to your collapsed form he felt his rage overflow him. He stood over you and you smugly returned his glare. That was it. In a swift motion, he punched you in the face. Your nose broke and blood gushed out and into your mouth. You screamed out but your cries, however, were mixed in with the killers. Frank recoiled, clutching at his mask where his nose would be. You watched in shock as he spilt swear words and stomped around you.

Curiously you reached up for your busted face and using your thumb and forefinger you squeezed the throbbing nose. Frank’s cries intensified and he clawed desperately at his mask. Through the haze he caught you staring at him in shocked amusement, which he mistook for condescending judgment. He growled and stormed over to you determined to make you regret everything. Panicking you grabbed your nose again and Frank jumped back. And then all the pieces fell into place. Frank could feel your pain. His eyes widened on your collapsed body and it felt as if his world was imploding. Oh shit.

It took some convincing but eventually, you agreed to meet Frank back at the Resort. He told you there was someone else, another ‘soulmate’ in this trifecta of fucked-up bullshit. You used the term ‘soulmate’ loosely. You had heard the stories about soulmates, people destined to be together would share such a special bond that they would even share pain. But never in a million years would you have guessed that your soulmate (or soulmateS) was, a serial killer. You really wanted it to not be real, you wanted this to be some kind of dream, a sick nightmare you were experiencing while laying on your deathbed somewhere far away. But there Frank was before you at the boundary between snow and forest,  like he promised you, with his partner Joey. You walked up to them and stopped at a safe distance away. Joey seemed to bloat his chest as if to say not to try anything. Frank looked at you and you knew you had to show him. Reaching up you grabbed at your nose which was starting to feel better but was still puffy and red. You put pressure on it and Frank began to shake with the pain. Frank moaned and clenched his fists in an effort to ride out the pain like Joey was but after a moment he relented and shouted at you to stop. Frank turned and muttered something to Joey who never took his gaze off you. You could have sworn that he was a stone-statue because he never moved and showed no sign that what you did had affected him in any way. But then you noticed his slight leg twitch and the irregular heaving of his chest. He did feel it. Frank returned his attention back to you and in the cold silence of realization, you said, “Well? What do we do now?”

You could have forgotten everything, walked away from the nonsensical situation that had been presented before you and continued on living a simple life devoid of drama and tension. But that life would also lack depth, something to make it special and worthwhile. You were presented with your soulmates, a rarity in this hellhole and something about the wonder of what made the universe decide to bring you all together surpassed your urge to stay away. Slowly but surely you introduced yourself into their lives. Your interactions at first were stiff and hollow, fear and uncertainty making you doubt if the boys would respect the bound of soulmates enough to not kill you or at least hurt you.

But time wore on and you became braver. They were gentle, well... they tried to be. And when you spoke with them as people do you realized that you had a lot in common with them both. And eventually, you were confident enough to laugh and joke with them.

Joey was the one who needed the most time to accept that you and he were soulmates. He eyed you suspiciously as you would talk with Frank, feeling some kind of jealousy build up in his chest. He hated how you could get Frank to react in ways he had never seen before. He hated how easy it was for you. One day when he had you alone to himself, he finally broke that long silence between you two. But where he expected a change in personality, a two-face switch, Joey only found genuineness. You were as kind and playful with him as you were with Frank, unfazed by your burden of the circumstance and not worried by his own mistakes and misfortunes. You were strong and he admired you for that. “How do you do it?” Joey softly asked clutching his hand which now held a new red welt. The mood quietened down and you turned to look at him. “How do you handle all this pain each and every day?” You reached out and gently took his hand in yours. Suddenly all his pain vanished at the contact and he slightly gasped at the shock. You were warm and comforting, like the wind of a summer’s afternoon, constant and welcoming. He raised his eyes to yours and you gave him your best smile. He melted. “One day at a time.” You replied squeezing his hand for emphasis. You relaxed and began to pull away only to stop as he held you firm, determined to not let your warmth go.

Frank always had a problem when it came to hurting you in trials. While Joey could suck it up and deal with the pain, Frank could not bear the thought of having a hook run through your shoulder and subsequently his. It was you who finally convinced him that his job was more important than your fleeting health.  You took Frank's hand in yours, engulfing him in your comfort and reassurance. “We can get through this. I will get better.” He breathed out and admitted, albeit to himself, that you were right. This was a momentary instance, a speck of nothing when compared to the kind of torture the Entity would inflict on him. And it wasn’t just himself he had to look out for, it was everyone. He had you and Joey he had to look out for. With a look apologetic regret Frank would mercilessly hunt you down and when he would lift you up and onto the meat hook he could hear you at the back of his mind saying, “Suck it up, Princess.”

They would always feel awful if you had a particularly bad day. You would trudge back to the Resort trying your best to hide from their concerned eyes your bruised limb or uneven walk but of course, they already knew what had happened. Joey would sweep you effortlessly off your feet and he would not let you walk around without his assistance. Frank, although less forward than the other, would follow behind and would pester you with questions, ‘Are you okay now?’ ‘Are you comfortable?’ ‘Anyway that he could help ease the hurt?’ They both were like oversized puppies yapping at your ankles because they heard you make a noise. You’d reassure them that you were fine and after exchanging doubtful looks between each other they would give in and give you some air.

They would listen to your stories. It's one thing to experience the pain and another thing to watch it happen. You’d tell them about how you got your injuries and more often than not you would end up a broken-down and crying mess. The image of looming figures silhouetted against an endless black sky haunts your mind. Although you all share the physical scars, the mental ones stay trapped inside you. When you would become an inconsolable disaster the boys would be by your side in an instant. By the time you regained control over your anxiety, you would find yourself buried in the arms of either Joey or Frank. You face pushed deep into their bodies as if they were trying to shield you from the monster that was yourself. It was scary, they could tell. But you weren’t alone. Not anymore. 

After a long day's work of causing and enduring pain, when your bodies would ache with collective suffering the 3 of you would find a quiet cove to all lie it. The boys would sleep on either side of you, draping their limps over you and almost drowning you in their weight. It felt good to be lost at sea with them, so far away from the pain of the day and from the pain tomorrow will bring. If for a moment, you all were at peace, happy and content in the embrace of your soulmates. 

[useless19]

Might I suggest a specific example loosely based on a fic I read years ago? (I'm picturing it as human!au for ease, but it should work for any sort of non-royalty all living in the same city au).

Luigi comes out as gay and his family aren't fantastic about it. There's no disowning or genuine hate, but neither is there the sort of support he was hoping for. Some aunts keep saying 'when you get a girlfriend' and he has to correct them every single time, and the usual family ribbing sometimes takes an angle that hits him harder than he'd like to admit. But it's fine! It's totally fine! Luigi just has to put up with it for a while and it'll die down enough that he can brush off the teasing - it's no worse than the comments he got for dropping his electrician course to follow Mario into plumbing, honestly.

Mario, on the other hand, is furious with their family. Luigi told him months ago and he only spent half a day alternating between stupid questions ('but wasn't there that thing with Daisy?' and 'is that why you were obsessed with that Olympic fencer?') and reassuring Luigi that he'd always be his best friend, until Luigi told him to stop being so smothering (with a smile and none of his initial nervousness when he asked Mario if they could talk that morning).

So, when Mario spots the ad while scrolling for something plumbing related, he urges Luigi to go for it. Luigi is less sure. He raises all kinds of objections and eventually puts his foots down - he's not bringing a probable serial-killer with 'photos of up to 8 kids he can pass off as his own' to thanksgiving thank you very much!

Mario isn't going to force Luigi to do something he doesn't want to do, but last time it took years for the comments about Luigi's life choices to simmer down and he wants Luigi to be happy. What's a big brother to do? Confirm with the guy that he's still available and tell his mom that he's going to be bringing a date to thanksgiving, obviously. Everyone assumes that Mario has finally worked up the guts to ask Peach out so of course he can bring his girlfriend (Mario doesn't correct the assumption, but he does warn Luigi).

Thankfully, Mario arranges a meetup before the day so their cover isn't immediately blown when his rival shows up and they nearly get into a fight. Eventually they stop shouting at each other long enough to discuss plans and Bowser is 100% on board. He might not like Mario, but he loves causing chaos (which is why he posted the advert in the first place).

Bowser gets 2 rules to follow: 1) No starting physical fights with anyone who doesn't throw the first punch 2) He can be as mean as he likes to everyone, including Mario, but he can't be mean to Luigi

The day rolls around and things go down exactly like Mario was hoping. Bowser can be truly awful when he puts his mind to it and the looks on everyone's faces when Mario introduced him as his boyfriend was priceless. Bowser doesn't get shy or nervous, he will fill any awkward silence, demand to be the centre of attention, and always has something (usually bad) to say about everything. He even manages to remember to be nice to Luigi most of the time, which is the only part Mario was really worried about.

And then Luigi laughs at one of Bowser's terrible jokes. It's only a quiet snigger, but Bowser notices and tries to get him to laugh again. And again. Bowser's never really learnt the fine art of ignoring people, so when he's going all out to draw attention he can't not interact with his fake date's brother. Which, for lack of practice at talking nicely, turns into flirting. Luigi doesn't entirely respond to it, but he also doesn't not respond to it either.

Finally, the dinner's over, and Bowser gets all but thrown out. He had a good time, so he doesn't make good on his empty threats to set fire to the building (you get done for arson one time and it's all everyone knows about you). He's halfway home when he gets a text from Luigi, saying that he got Bowser's number from Mario (he hopes that's ok!) and would Bowser be interested in coming to Christmas dinner too? As Luigi's date? Not that it has to be a date date. Unless that's something he's interested in? Which Luigi understands if not. But maybe...?

Bowser snorts and texts back 'at least buy me dinner first'. He gets back a 'You literally just ate four full plates and dessert' then 'Oh', 'I'm free Monday?'.

(Luigi tells Mario the next day, who has to bite his tongue and remind himself that he's going to be supportive before he manages to give Luigi a high-five).

OKAY BUT CAN WE ACKNOWLEDGE that the "alone on thanksgiving? mad at your dad?" is actually PERFECT for bowuigi??? Movie-canon, games-canon, "modern" AU, reverse AU. Every possible variation is a banger, no missed shots.

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 2

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 1.7k

warnings: this chapter contains mature themes, descriptions of violence, and foul language. 

description: no matter how hard he tries, jisung can’t shake off the feeling you give him, and it’s starting to drive him insane.

watch the trailer here!

2| up in flames

Jisung felt like he was burning up.

It was drizzling again, dark clouds knitting together in the evening sky, but he barely felt the drops hitting his skin. He was too focused on the feeling eating away at his gut as he wandered the streets, the sun sinking lower and lower in the horizon.

Warmth.

That was the only way he could describe what he felt: a warm feeling deep in his chest equal parts foreign and familiar, and it drove him insane.

Jisung’s head was pounding. Felix’s voice rang in his ears like a broken record, making him wince.

“Hey, ‘sung, you’re single right? I think I know a girl who’d be perfect for you.” Cue that signature, greasy Felix wink. “You free this Sunday, bro?”

Why had he agreed? Sure, it wasn’t like he was bad at relationships -- he knew all the sweet talk, smooth lies; they came almost naturally to him. He always knew what to say. What people liked to hear. But he had never wanted to keep them around for long. 

Until you.

The words to decline Felix’s offer had been already forming on Jisung’s tongue, but they had disintegrated as soon as Felix had pulled up pictures of you on his phone. Because the moment he saw the warmth in your smile, that light in your eyes, Jisung felt his mouth go dry. And when he first laid eyes on you in Mia’s Diner, it happened all over again. 

Why? What were you doing to him?

Jisung reached up to touch his hair, running his fingers through it; water droplets shook from the locks and fell in his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get you out of his head. The way your cheeks glowed pink when you’d ruffled his hair, the warmth of your hand brushing his skin as you pulled away shyly. 

Everything about you felt so damn familiar.

A sudden, sharp throbbing in his head sent Jisung doubling over, hands flying out and slapping against a brick wall. Not good. His skull was splitting, his vision blurring a thick, hazy red as images flashed through his mind. 

The warmth. A gentle touch. Laughter. Screaming. A cold body bleeding out at his feet--

He stumbled blindly, wandering the streets. The ground was spinning, his head was pounding, red clouding his peripheral vision. There was no way he was remembering now. All the memories, the nightmares, the thoughts, he had to burn them, rip them to pieces, stop--

“Are you okay?”

A hand shot out to grip his arm tightly, jarring him back to reality. His pupils wavered, focusing on a woman standing in front of him. She had been smoking, a silver Zippo lighter in her other hand. A red cashmere coat was draped over her lean frame, a smear of bright red lipstick coating her lips and staining the cigarette. She smiled at him -- simpered, really -- when he whipped around, staring into her eyes. 

She raised an eyebrow, taken aback. “My, aren’t you handsome?” Pocketing her lighter and flicking away the cigarette, she leaned in closer. Her long coat slipped slightly off her shoulders, revealing nothing but bare skin and lingerie underneath. “Say, would you like spend the night with me, sweetheart? You can touch me, too,” she purred. She smelled strongly of expired perfume. “I’ll make you feel real good.”

Jisung glanced at his surroundings. He had wandered off campus, he realised hazily. On the outskirts of Miroh Heights University was an area -- almost like a red-light district -- overrun with clubs, arcades and casinos; every student’s go-to party destination. But if you wandered deep enough, it was also littered with brothels, slums, and drug dens. He looked at the woman. So she was a prostitute, he thought. He must have looked drunk as shit, then; an easy client. 

If it wasn’t for the dirty feeling creeping up his skin, Jisung might have tried to leave. Her fingers were beginning to wander, lightly roaming his body. He could feel the pounding growing in his head again, blood hissing in his ears.

You can touch me, too.

I’ll make you feel real good.

Red coat. Red lipstick. Red nails digging into his forearm.

He grabbed the woman’s hand, almost too hard, making her jump. Despite every inch of his skin feeling repulsed, he plastered a smirk on his face, pulling her closer. “Lead the way, then.”

She giggled, snaking her arm around his. “Eager, aren’t we?”

She lead him away from the back of the brothel, down several winding alleyways and through run-down backstreets. The neon lights and clamour of the clubbing district faded, the buildings and streets getting smaller and narrower as they finally stopped in front of a small flat. The other buildings keeping it company looked like they might have once been bungalows or townhouses, but were either long abandoned or in line for demolition. 

The woman flashed Jisung what he supposed was a sultry smile before motioning him inside and locking the door behind them. Even in the dark, Jisung could tell the building was falling apart -- there was only one room, its walls barren and cracked, a single dirty bed in the middle of the room. A half-empty bottle of vodka sat on a table in the corner. The lights were off.

Jisung felt a smile creep onto his face. 

Easy. Too easy.

The hooker turned around, slipping her arms around his shoulders. “You’ve got a great smile, sweetheart.”

Jisung studied her carefully, letting the smile drop from his lips. “I’m glad you think so.” He leaned forward, voice ghosting the girl’s ear. “It’s so important to enjoy the last thing you see.”

Her face flashed with confusion, then horror as Jisung’s hand shot out, wrapping around her throat with a vicelike grip. Jisung felt the blood in his ears burst, the moment his skin made contact, head pounding and blurring his vision with red, red, red. The girl’s lips were frantically forming silent screams as he crushed her windpipe, backing her into the wall. Her head hit the hard surface with a crack, eyes rolling back as her fingers, which had been scrabbling at him uselessly, finally relaxed. Jisung let go, watching the body slide down the wall, a thick smear of blood trailing with it from where the skull had split open. 

Crimson blood was pouring out of the head, forming a dark pool at his feet. He was always surprised at the sheer amount bodies could hold.

Jisung wasn’t sure for how long he stood like this, waiting for the headache to ebb away, watching the body with mild interest.  Soon, the blood had soaked through his Converse and into his socks. He wiped the soles of his shoes on the red cashmere coat, which was fanned around the body like a flower in full bloom, before leaning down and fishing out the lighter the woman had slipped into the pocket earlier.

“Least favourite colour?”

“Red.”

Jisung cast a look around the room. Red. There was so much of it -- sinking into the cracks in the floor, congealing on his fingers, dripping onto his white shirt. And then there was the red coat, the red nails, red lipstick, red stiletto heels--

He snatched the bottle of vodka off the table and hurled it onto the ground, the glass shattering and alcohol splashing over the body, mixing into the blood. The stench made him dizzy. He flipped the switch on the lighter, dark pupils dilating at the flame that darted out and licked at his thumb, before flicking the lighter onto the vodka-soaked corpse.

It caught fire instantly, consuming the floorboards around it and engulfing the bedsheets. The smell of smoke and bone filled his nostrils. The pounding in his head was finally fading, his breathing smoothing out, and the ground had stopped spinning. He flexed his fingers. 

It felt good. He was back in control.

Almost subconsciously, his fingers reached up to ruffle his hair again. Without a word, Jisung slipped out into the cool night air. 

━━━━━━━━

The wail of sirens and the screech of the police radio woke Woojin up, startling him from his chair. With a groggy groan, he rubbed his face and peered at the clock. 1:25 A.M. So he’d fallen asleep at his desk. The station was dark; the other officers were off work or on patrol, he assumed. He slapped himself lightly, eyes threatening to close oncemore, as he picked up the receiver and pressed it to his ear.

“Capt. Kim Woojin speaking.”

“Sir, we’ve got a 904 in D-4, on the outskirts of Miroh Heights University; it’s a 10-54.”

Woojin sat up now, fully awake. “A fire, and a possible dead body?”

“Yes, sir. The firefighters have already extinguished the scene, and found the remains of a woman. Details surrounding the case are strange, Chief, very strange -- I sent the reports and files to your office at midnight, and was wondering if you’d gotten them.”

Woojin covered the receiver and cursed, then put it back to his ear.

“Eyewitnesses have reported seeing a figure -- likely a young man -- escaping the scene, but they aren’t sure. We may be dealing with a murderer here, or a serial arsonist.”

“Understood. Thank you, officer, I’ll see to the matter immediately. Clear.” 

Woojin hung up, spotting the pile of paperwork that had been dropped in the box outside his office. He retrieved them, flipping through and frowning. A house in flames, one woman dead. And the shadow of a young boy slipping out from the wreckage. It was suspicious, of course, but that wasn’t why he had an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. No. Something about this case seemed almost...familiar.

He shook his head, groaning. It was late; he must be losing it. Nevertheless, Woojin punched in the first number he always did the moment a case like this arose, and waited for the other end to pick up.

“Hello?”

“District 9 Precinct, Capt. Kim Woojin speaking,” the young police chief muttered into the receiver, casting a weary look at the mountain of new cases on his desk. “I need you to ring up Detective Bang, and tell him to page the homicide unit-- we have a long night ahead of us.”

[lifblogs]

20/04 Monday 3. Thief

Things get violent and spicy in this, so definitely rated M. It’s a serial killer AU. Hope it’s fun! @bend-me-shape-me​, @helianthus21​, @pray4jensen​

“No! Please, you don’t have to do this!”

Castiel rolled his eyes as his latest victim pleaded. Cas leaned against a chest in the storage facility basement he was using, crossing his arms, even putting one ankle over the other. He licked his bottom lip.

“You done yet?” Castiel asked, as the man sat there, tied to the chair, blubbering.

His name was Marvin Atkins. He was thirty-seven, he had a membership at a gym that he used quite frequently, his favorite topping on pizza was broccoli, and he worked for a business firm. He also had yet another handy fact about him that had made Castiel so interested in him in the first place — he was six foot three, and had green eyes. Men like that were hard to come by. He only saw a man more beautiful than that every once in awhile, when they’d meet up to talk about their kills.

He felt his dress pants start growing tight as he thought of Dean Winchester.

They weren’t exactly boyfriends, but they weren’t enemies. Dean’s type was guys who fit Castiel’s profile; Castiel’s, Dean’s. It had only been a matter of time before they’d find each other. At this point Cas couldn’t even remember who had tried to kill who first. But now they were used to the whole bondage and roughing each other up thing. They just used it to get pleasure out of each other.

But even then, Castiel was sure he had a soft spot for Dean Winchester somewhere inside him. He’d never admit it, but if he didn’t, why would he even be doing what he was now?

Castiel shook his head, tisk-ing. “Marvin, Marvin, Marvin… This isn’t about you,” Castiel said. He got off the chest, and came forward. Already with one hand in his pocket, he was fingering the rubber ball and duct tape that he had. “This is about something so much bigger.”

Marvin’s wild eyes grew even more panicked, and white was practically all Castiel could see. “What? Like the mafia?”

Castiel tilted his head. “Hmm… Close. Valentine’s Day.”

Marvin just stared at him in confusion, seemingly forgetting how panicked he was. That was, until Castiel approached, getting in his personal space. His victim was shaking, sweating. Tears built up in his eyes.

Castiel fought with him to get the rubber ball in his mouth, clamped around his teeth, and then he kept it there with duct tape going around his head. A make-shift ball gag. Cas had learned that particular trick from the last time Dean had taken him captive.

Cas took out a silver-colored blade, the metal seeming to reflect back pure light from the old swinging bulb up above and the spotlight he’d placed on his victim.

Castiel rubbed the sharp edge against the man’s cheeks, slicing, spilling blood.

His victim cried, struggling.

A powerful rush of sensation filled his gut. It was like getting punched, while getting infused with adrenaline and pleasure all at once. Castiel’s cock twitched in his pants.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he explained. “I’m going to carve you up, nice and pretty, and then…” He dragged the blade down to Marvin’s chest, imagining the fluttering heart in his breast. “Then, I’m going to take this. Your heart. I know someone who’d want it.”

Castiel started cutting, and he reveled in Marvin’s muffled screams.

oOoOo

Castiel didn’t know where Dean lived, but he knew where he was staying for now. He was in a motel on the outskirts of town, and the motel provided hot tubs, so he could imagine Dean was living it up. They were also a good place to keep bodies if you didn’t want to make too much of a mess.

When Castiel knocked on the door he knew was his, it opened just a crack. He could see one of Dean’s beautiful eyes peer out. Blood dripped behind Castiel’s back from what he held in his hand. He should probably keep it out of the light, but no one was around anyway. Besides, the blood on his clothes would be what they noticed first, not that he was holding something behind his back.

“Talk quickly,” Dean snarled out, the tense way his lips shaped the words showing those lovely white teeth of his. Cas had a twinge of sensation in between his legs, imagining those teeth against his skin. He worked his own tongue around his mouth, realizing he wanted to bite Dean. “I have a gun to the door,” Dean went on. “Right next to your head. Either we can make this ugly, or really ugly.”

“Dean, I’m just here to say Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Dean frowned, a picture of total confusion.

“What?”

Castiel pressed against the door to come in, and then tossed Dean what he’d been holding. It slipped from Dean’s hand, but he caught it again before it hit the floor. This made him have to drop his gun though, and when he came back up, Castiel was holding it under his chin.

Dean held the bleeding heart up, studying it, even with metal glinting against his flesh.

“Valentine’s Day, huh, Castiel?” Dean asked. “Who’d you get this from?”

“I stole it,” Cas responded, drawing in close, breathing heavy now that he was near Dean.

“I didn’t know you were a thief.”

Castiel lowered the gun, but brought it down, pressing it against Dean’s pelvis. He rutted against it.

“Neither did I. But I can assure you, the man who had it, won’t be needing it anymore.”

Dean cracked a smile, and then pulled Castiel in close, even as the barrel of the gun now threatened to go into his jeans.

“Well, I’m all yours. Who’s turn is it to play victim this time?”

Castiel kissed Dean, bit his bottom lip, and pulled, making sure it bled. He groaned as he tasted it.

“I do believe it’s yours,” Castiel told him.

“Well, fuck me.”

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Feysand: Punching Bags

Modern Feysand AU

Feyre breaks up with her abusive boyfriend and goes to a boxing gym to work out aggression. She meets the trainer Cassian who then realizes, hey, you’d like my brother. 

Also: “Hey kiss me, my ex is here.” 

All of the bat boys are actual brothers and Mor is all their cousins. 

No azriel and mor love story for that reason. 

and can we talk about how i got this idea from talking to my therapist

Stupid dick.

Those were my only thoughts as I got out of my car to go into the boxing studio.

Work out your aggression, Alis, my therapist, said to me. You went through an abusive relationship, Feyre. It’ll help get that resentment out.

I sighed again, pulling on the door handle, I could practically smell the sweat. The place was called Blood Rite. Nesta and Elain grimaced at the name after I told them where I was going. There was another thing that caused aggression; judgement from my sisters. 

There were two black haired tan men at the counter, one had shaggy hair that didn’t go past his ears. The other had long hair that was pulled into a bun. I walked up to the counter, the bun-man greeted me, “hi, welcome to Blood Rite, how can I help you?” “Hi, I spoke with someone on the phone that said I could just….come in and punch?” 

He smiled, Jesus he was pretty. “Yeah, just a 50 dollar fee and you can punch till your heart's content.” 

“Thank you,” I paid, I was about to go to the locker rooms when he called out. 

“Miss? We always ask names here, I’m Cassian, this is Azriel.” The shaggy haired one smiled and waved. 

“I’m Feyre.”

“Nice to meet you, Feyre.” I smiled in response. and went to the locker room with my bag. I wasn’t used to smiling at males again, Tamlin didn’t like it and I didn’t want to get hit. I sighed in frustration, I know I couldn’t have left in that situation. But it was still frustrating. I threw my bag into a locker, slid my phone into my leggings pocket and plugged in the headphones. 

I wrapped my hands and began punching, I punched before Tamlin, it was one of those things he “didn’t like me doing”. At first, I didn’t notice the controlling aspects. He blamed it on his ex, Ianthe or whatever. 

Punch. Punch. Punch. 

I didn’t wear the right clothes, I ate too much, I didn’t eat the right foods, I didn’t smile enough, I was too nice, too flirty. 

Why was I not good enough for that piece of shit? What did I do? What did I do to make him so fucking angry that he hit every goddamn day of our relationship?

Every cell of my body was on fire with different emotions, my hands felt numb, it wasn’t because of how much I punched, it was because of the anxiety coursing through my veins. My legs were itching to have kicked him in the balls, at least once. 

I could still feel his hands on me, how he’d grab my shoulders and yank me back to him if I walked away. How every time he was behind me, every hair on my body stood up. 

Someone touched my shoulder. 

Without thinking I spun around and punched them in the face. Then I saw the tan skin and long black hair, Cassian fell to the ground groaning. I ripped my earbuds out of my ears, “oh my god, I’m so sorry!” He groaned, “fucking hell, you throw a punch.” “I’m sorry,” I winced, I offered up a hand to help him up, he grabbed my hand. “Oh thank god it’s not bleeding,” I said.

“It’s alright.” He said, “but damn you throw a good punch.” 

I winced again, he continued, “but I was telling you, we’re closing.” 

My cheeks went crimson, “aw shit, what a way to end your night.”

He shrugged and smiled, “no problem, but I can tell you’re going through some shit, there’s a great place down the road, you seem like you need a friend.”

This dude would totally be a serial killer. “Sure,” I said, “What’s the name, I could meet you there?” Eh, what else did I have to lose? I was living in my sister's basement.

“Great, there’s this place called Rita’s down the road, I’ll be there in ten, I have to close down the computers and turn on the whole security protocol.” 

I nodded, “okay, see you there.” I ran off to go get my bag, I went to my car and hoped to god that I didn’t get killed tonight. 

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

Rita’s was a bar. I quickly looked up their menu on my phone, Cassian said he’d be here in ten because all he had to do was close down the computers because Azriel took care of the money. 

Ugh, they had truffle fries, what a blessing. 

I saw him walk up to the doors and wait, I looked at the clock, he was right on time. I swallowed down the bundle of nerves, what if Tamlin showed? My stomach fell to my ass. 

I swallowed my fear and met him at the door, he offered me his arm, and I took it, smiling. We went and sat at a table, a waitress came, we ordered. 

He sighed and looked at me kindly. “So, you want me to ask the hard question or the easy ones?” 

“Give me an example of both.” 

“Easy: what’s your favorite color?” not red, “Hard: what made you so angry that you punched me that hard?” He asked, concerned. 

My stomach sank, “blue.” I answered the first one. 

He nodded, “Mines red, favorite food?”

“Truffle fries.” I said, “Chicken wings. This place has the best truffle fries.” He said wistfully. 

“Yeah, I saw their menu online, definitely going to enjoy those. So do you own the gym?” 

“I run it with my brothers, Azriel and Rhysand.” 

“Ah.” I said, awkwardly closing the conversation. 

It was awkward now, making friends was never my strong suit, it was Elains. 

“You should really talk about what’s bothering you.” He said gently, I nodded, “no judgement?” 

“Nope. But you’re so much like my brother, not talking about shit, afraid of being a burden.”

I huffed a laugh, “wow, you really attacked me with that one.”

“Hey, I know shit. So tell me.”

So I did, I spilled my guts to a complete stranger, I told him everything. From Tamlin and I meeting, first date, first signs of abuse. Everything. He held my hand. 

I made a friend.

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

A few more months went by, Cassian and I had a routine of me going to the studio every Monday, Wednesday and Friday night. Cas staying an hour after hours for us to talk, work out, whatever and then getting food after. 

But tonight was different. Cassian invited me out with his friends, who apparently have been dying to meet me after accidentally giving him a black eye. Azriel and him talked me up, I have never met Rhysand, he only came in on weekends and weekends were the days I dedicated to myself.

But I’ve heard the other regular girls gush about him. 

I wore skin tight black jeans, black shirt with no sleeves that was skin tight and had a cut out by my breasts. If I lifted my arms, the shirt exposed my midriff. Tamlin had forbidden this shirt, so I felt it was needed to break it out again. My muscles from working out and punching shit showed off quite nicely and I had heeled black boots. 

I shoved my phone in my pocket, grabbed my leather jacket and headed out. I thought I had managed to avoid my sisters’ gazes but nope, Nesta is like a hawk.

“Where the hell are you going looking like that?”

“Out.” I said as I grabbed my keys.

“Feyre.”

“Nesta.” I said, warning in my voice as I turned around to face her. I wouldn’t be backing down, I will never back down again. 

Elain turned the corner, her eyes widening at my outfit, “where are you going?”

“She says she’s going ‘out’.” Nesta said. 

Elain hummed, “well, have fun Fey.” She smiled, a genuine, real smile, grabbed her hot chocolate and left the room.

I looked at Nesta with a ‘ha’ expression and opened the door to the garage, but not before I heard her go, “be safe.” I sighed as the door shut, if I went back in, it’d kill Nesta’s pride, me knowing that she cares. I brushed it off, I was going to have fun tonight with friends. Well, friends of a friend.

Good enough for me.

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

Rita’s was packed, I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel in anxiety, okay I got this. 

I pulled out my phone to text Cassian, I’m here. 

Three dots popped up, fuck yeah, i’m on my way to the parking lot. 

 I smiled and got out, it was warm for March but the sun was gone so it was chilly again. Clutching my jacket closer to my body, I walked to the doors. 

I ignored the creeps outside, Cassian came out and greeted me with a hug, “heya Feyre.” He waggled his eyebrows at the rhyme.

I rolled my eyes, “that was awful.”

“Get used to it, the group is ready with stories and puns for you.”

“Is it too late for me to leave?” I joked as he pulled me into the building.

“Yup, you’re stuck with me and now them.” 

My heart warmed at being accepted so quickly, Lucien didn’t accept me quickly. My heart then cooled at the thought of him. I missed him. 

“What’re you thinking about?” He said as we walked to the back of the club. “It’s just...been awhile since I’ve been out like this.” I shrugged. 

He nodded and squeezed my hand in comfort. 

We found the group in the back, well, I’m assuming they’re the group based on the fact that Azriel is there too. When he saw me he smiled (which was rare and I was so happy to see it), he got out of the giant booth to hug me, which again, surprised me but I was glad for it. 

“Everybody, this is Feyre.” I waved awkwardly as both brothers had their arms around me. 

“I’m Morrigan,” said the beautiful blonde. 

“Amren.” The other woman said, she was beautifully terrifying,

“And I’m Rhysand.” Said the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He had the most beautiful eyes, Jesus christ. Were they violet?

I knew there was good genes in that family (hello look at Cassian and Azriel) but fucking hell. I smiled at all of them, don’t be an idiot, Feyre

Cassian let me slide in on the left side first of the u shaped booth, then he slid in after me. I was right next to Morrigan who hugged me, “I’m so glad to finally meet you!” She squealed. 

“I can’t believe you punched Cassian.” Rhysand laughed downing his whiskey. 

“She’s working on her anger management.” Cassian joked.

“Watch it, I can punch you again. And this time, it’ll be on purpose.” I gave him a look that had him howling. 

The others started laughing which eased the knot that was formed in my belly. Morrigan began telling more stupid stories about Cassian. Turns out they were cousins, Jesus everyone is related except Amren. 

Eventually, Cassian and Morrigan worked together to drag Amren and Azriel out onto the dance floor. 

“I can’t believe we kept missing each other.” Rhysand said. 

“I know,”

“Was it worth the wait?”

I pretended to think about it, “hmm, I finally met the great Rhysand and he doesn’t ask me to dance? Not really.” Okay, I need to stop drinking. 

But he smiled, those violet eyes twinkling. “I guess that means I can’t disappoint.” He got up and offered me his hand, I smiled and took it. 

He led me onto the dance floor, “just an fyi, I haven’t danced on the club floor in about three years.” I warned. Another thing Tamlin ruined for me. 

“Well, then, let’s dust off those moves!” Last Friday Night by Katy Perry started playing. 

I nearly rolled my eyes but then Rhysand started twirling me around, I started laughing. He then did some weird disco which nearly killed me. He pulled me into his arms, him and I danced together, his hands on my swaying hips, it felt freeing. We kept laughing and I felt light. 

Haven’t felt this in years. 

I saw a flash of familiar bronze hair, my stomach sank, it was Lucien. ANd next to him, Tamlin. Motherfucker. I quickly turned into Rhysand who noticed immediately, “what?” He whispered. 

“Keep dancing,” I said breathlessly, “him and his friend are over at the bar.” 

“Who?” 

“My ex. Blond and redhead guys, blond is my ex.” 

“The ex?” He referenced, Cassian told me that Rhysand had asked about my story, and he told it with my permission. 

“Yes.” I said, nerves fluttering in my stomach. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. But they’re looking.” 

“Fuck. Kiss me, please?” “Darling, you don't have to ask. Been thinking about it all night.” I turned my head, he went down and met me. This kiss was seering. My fingers wove themselves into his hair, my fingernails scraped his scalp and he groaned into my mouth. His hands slid up my waist, he gently squeezed my mid riffe, his fingers cold against my hot skin.  

We pulled away, he checked, “they’re gone.” I smiled, “thank you.” 

“Anytime.” He smiled back. 

The group found us, it was obvious we had kissed, both our lips were swollen, his hair was a mess thanks to me, and his hands were still on my wrist. 

They were about to say something, when Juice by Lizzo started playing. Cassian shouted and dragged me to go dance with him, I grabbed Rhys, who grabbed Az, who grabbed Mor and she grabbed Amren. All of us ended up in a dance circle just being idiots. 

Mor and I duetted the bridge of the song, “somebody come get this man, I think he got lost in my dms!” 

“What!” 

“My dms!”

“What!” 

“You better come get your man, I think he wanna be way more than friends!”

“What!” 

“More than friends!” 

We danced a few more hours away, when the others got tired, but I didn’t wanna go home. It was 2 in the morning but I felt alive. Rhysand and I went down to a diner, the others were ready to throw in their dancing shoes but since I wanted to stay out; which never happened, Rhysand stayed out with me. I didn’t have to worry about coming home to an angry man who would beat me. 

I felt so free. 

We pulled up to a 90s themed diner, the car ride wasn’t awkward but it wasn’t at ease, that kiss loomed over us. 

“I’m sorry about that kiss,” I said, once we were seated, my conscious just wouldn’t let me wait till later. 

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “I didn’t mind it.” 

I smiled. The waitress came over and we both ordered milkshakes. “I craved milkshakes like crazy whenever I went out.” I said. 

“When was the last time you went out like this?” 

I sighed, trying not to let the smile slip, “three years. But hey, I made some pretty amazing friends tonight, and I met you.” Vodka makes me ballsy, never again. 

“I’m different from a friend?” He asked, smiling. 

I nodded, “I don't kiss my friends.” Not like that, at least. 

“So is this a date?” He asked, quirking his eyebrow. 

I nodded, “I think so.” 

“Thank God, cause seriously, you’re beautiful.” He said, “and I’m a lucky man.” 

I smiled, little did I know, this was the beginning of the rest of my life.

[eutaerpe]

venus and mars

pairing — jimin x reader

genre/warnings — fluff, idolverse, boyfriend au, a wild (brat) jungkook appears, sleep deprived maknae line

notes  — hi!!! this is part of a small series of disconnected drabbles/blurbs centered on jimin, who is not my bias wrecker,,.......aha........yeah. unedited so sorry for my mistakes, this was written when i was sleep deprived.......aha......!!! i’ll link in the future the venus and mars moodboard, as tumblr still fucks up posts with links :( hope you like this!!! send me thoughts?? or love? wait no i’m proving a point i’m not jimin ♥︎

summary  — “He’s gone.”

“Good,” you hum contently, “Now you can talk dirty to me.”

“You literally mentioned chocolate bunnies and serial killers earlier, babe.”

“Oooh, yes, more,” you moan playfully, cuddling your pillow. “Park Jimin. Chef kiss. The man you are today.” 

Sometimes releasing an album it’s exhausting.

Jimin knows that.

It’s indefinitely cooler dropping hints to your fans and making them believe it’s a mind-blowing journey where you write lyrics everyday and produce sounds in thirty minutes tops. Like they’ve always been there, like they’ve been in your mind the whole time and you just had to politely ask them to come out and materialize themselves.

Most of the time, it’s just people in a room. Nodding to whatever is happening in their Macs, moving their hands in the air, following a certain rhythm one day thousands of people will know. Sometimes, instead, it’s all quiet, if he’s lucky; there’s only a reigning peace towering the leather couches and armchairs where people are sprawled on.

Right now, the silence’s broken by the small sounds his phone is making. The truth is that he’s gently forcing everyone to listen to his tracks.

He has been holding his phone and earbuds for the past forty-three minutes, crouching on his knees next to the person he needed the approval of. It’s a tad embarrassing, and people mostly thinks he does this in order to fulfil his praise kink, but. They’re not totally wrong.

He just really, desperately needs approval.

“It’s nice,” Namjoon says, and Jimin feels a rush of excitement spreading into his body. Namjoon doesn’t lie. Namjoon likes telling the truth, whether it’s a rushed “I don’t like it, I feel like you could do a lot better” or a warmer “I like this vibe. Keep working on this.”

Getting the members’ approval is one of the moments he shields the most in his heart, along with private, quick moments fans can’t see taking place. There’s a lot of congratulations behind the stage, a lot of hugging that can’t happen because of all the styling and make-up, lots of texts read by the managers out loud, declaring things like “you’ve really outdone yourselves” and “keep that going”, which never fail to make Jimin warm.

Though the hastiness of it all is somewhat frightening. There are people crowding the streets and stadiums and everywhere they go—for them, Jimin thinks, it’s heavier. The tickets fever, waiting outside for hours, shifting their bodies into difficult positions, outside buildings for so long just to see their smiles flashing for thirty seconds.

It’s unnerving.

Fans do so much and they—they jump into their cars, rapidly seeing the fans becoming dots into the distance. In a millisecond. Jimin hates that.

It’s past four am, his rushed recording has gotten almost everyone’s approval – not Jungkook’s, though; the Brat has decided that his work needs more backup vocals and a lot heavier hook, and drums or other weird, loud instruments – and this result alone should be relaxing, or. Exciting, he supposes. This should result in a definitely warmer feeling aimed to push him to work harder, as stuff like this usually does, but this time feels different. This time it’s – nonsense, an unknown frigid state of anxiety that he cannot calm down.

Dorm life feels suffocating now, because Seokjin is in the studio, Namjoon is distantly working to lyrics and Hoseok has disappeared ever since he announced he’d be working for a diverse track, loud and crazy and depictive of their pent-up energy.

Anxious Jimin knows talking helps, but Rational Jimin argues that the only voice he’d want to hear, now, is not available, so what’s the point?

You’re resting.

Aha. What a feeling. What an unconceivable, strange action he was used to when he was younger.

Still, you’re resting. Closing your eyelids for more than thirty-six seconds on a working day. Sleeping.

Like every other normal human being at four am.

He groans, unblocking his phone and instantly drowning in his oversized hoodie, his left hand barely making an appearance in the cold hair.

He shouldn’t, he reckons, but you have always told Jimin he shouldn’t think, and moreover, he shouldn’t listen to his self-destructive thoughts when hungry or sleep-deprived.

So, ding, ding, ding! He excels in non-proper thinking when sleep deprived – and he’s always sleep deprived, so. Ten thousand points to Gryffindor, as Seokjin-hyung would say.

Jungkook mutters a “Gotta pee,” exiting the room and leaving Jimin alone in the living room. You’re not picking up. That’s okay, that’s fine, he should really stop bothering you—

“Hey, Chim,”

It’s the softest voice he has ever heard in his twenty-three years of life. God. You could punch him in the gut, and he’d thank you.

“Is…” – you’re shuffling in bed, and he can picture you passing a hand over your closed eyes – “Is everything okay?”

Jimin licks his lips, feeling his tiredness embracing him. “Yeah, sorry I woke you up…”

“Mhm.” You breathe out. “Nonsense.”

He hears you sitting on your bed, yawning. “Have you showed the others your recording?”, you ask, because you’re perfect like this. Jimin instantly feels guilty for this random night call.

“The hyungs liked it,” he murmurs, voice low, “I’ll show you tomorrow, if you want to?”

“Please. It’s not like I’ve been begging you to for the past week, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the main reason why I’m avoiding you.”

You groan, making him smile. “Don’t joke about it, jerk. We miss you.”

“We?”

“My bed? Me? Mostly the bed, though?”

The idiot snorts. “Cocky, aren’t we?”

But you do love this idiot. “Not joking. I’ve been hearing stuff from these sheets. ‘Been missing your non-existent tattoo.”

“Sounds logic.” Jimin hums, and that’s all you need to hear to know he’s feeling better than seconds ago.

“Babe,” you start, tongue rolling on the back of your mouth, “What I’m about to say is not gonna make a lot of sense because a minute ago I was dreaming about chocolate bunnies and serial killers, but. You know I miss you, right? But then again, you know this, and you know that I love you.”

Jungkook plops on the couch and starts scrolling on what Jimin assumes is his secret twitter account. Stan account, according to the sources. (Taehyung and Seokjin are his sources, thank you very much). When the younger turns around and catches him staring, Jimin all but attempts a smile—promptly cut by the cushion Guk throws him.

Jimin sighs. They grow up so fast.

“I know you. I know that if there’s someone who can go through these hard few days, it’s you and the guys. In a couple weeks you’re going to think about this day and laugh because it sounds like the plot of an indie, overrated movie. You can do it. I know you do.”

He loves you so much he could cry, but he decides against it. Instead, he says: “You’re like my energizer drink, you know?”

To which Jungkook and you both answer with a disinterested, “Ew, disgusting.”

The things your boyfriend says when sleepy. Gosh.

“Why the fuck is noona still dating you?” – Jungkook prorupts loudly enough that you hear, voice painted with curiosity – “You’re weird, hyung.”

“It’s definitely because of your dick—”

“She says I’m a kind soul.”

“—Dicking game’s so good I might forget you just called me a sweetened drink.”

“And buy her expensive stuff.”

Jungkook feigns a shocked face. “So, you’re her sugar daddy? Noona, I have an apartment. For myself.”

“Don’t hit on my girl right in front of me, kid.”

You erupt into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god, when did Guk become so annoying? I love him. Can we adopt him?”

“Too bad,” he says aloud, trying not to smile, “Too bad we’ve already adopted him as our group’s mascot, babe. He’s not an obedient child, though.”

The “Fuck off,” Jungkook sputters is enough for making you laugh so hard he doesn’t have it in himself to stop you because you’re so loud you could wake Tae, asleep on the kitchen counter.

This—this moment right here, is what Jimin loves most about his life. Besides performing and laughing because Jungkook called him a small pepper once again – the audacity – and other vague, members-related facts. You calm him, and love him, and listen to whatever thing he has on his mind.

“He’s gone.”

“Good,” you hum contently, “Now you can talk dirty to me.”

“You literally mentioned chocolate bunnies and serial killers earlier, babe.”

“Oooh, yes, more,” you moan playfully, cuddling your pillow. “Park Jimin. Chef kiss. The man you are today.”

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud.”

“Yeah, me neither. Guess one of us really needs to sleep and, shockingly, that’s not you?”

“I know,” – Jimin assures, closing his eyes – “Pretty sure this is another of your strange dreams, weirdo.”

You’re drifting off, and it’s the cutest thing Jimin has ever witnessed. “Kiss Guk goodnight. And…” a yawn, “Call me again in a couple hours, I really want to know what you’re working on, baby.”

“That can do,” he says, softly. “Love you.”

But he doesn’t hear you saying it back to him.

Only Taehyung muttering a soft “Nobody ever kisses me goodnight.”, half dead, half pouted, which makes Jimin smile like an idiot.

[schweeeppess]

Do you have any angsty fic recommendations? I feel like ripping my heart out for no reason and figured you'd have some good recommendations

OH BOY DO I EVER!

(Dick & Tim & Jason) theyve broken me by Princex_N

Retraumatization is a conscious or unconscious reminder of past trauma that results in a re-experiencing of the initial trauma event. It can be triggered by a situation, an attitude or expression, or by certain environments that replicate the dynamics (loss of power/control/safety) of the original trauma. Being forced to talk about your trauma before you're mentally ready to do so can also be a trigger.

Jason agrees to talk to Bruce about the circumstances of his death and resurrection in Batman and Red Hood #20, at serious detriment to himself.

If you mention angsty fics, you literally cannot just not mention this one. I cried so hard reading this, it’s not funny. It breaks your heart into shards then stabs you with them, and bruh. I just. 1000/10

(the batboys in general) When the Stakes are Higher by keeptogethernow

There's a new serial killer in Gotham, and he's managing to evade even Batman's attempts to catch him. The psychopath's inclinations have Bruce on edge, but Jason's not as worried...until it becomes personal. But when even the world's greatest detective is at a loss, will their efforts be enough to prevent another tragedy in the Wayne family?

Not as angsty as the last rec, like at all! It’s very suspenseful though, and there is quite some angst, but it’s not as bad as “theyve broken me”.

(Dick & his brothers) the man with guns for eyes by 8sword

“Don’t blame him, little D. He gave me a choice.”

"He always makes it a choice," Damian mutters. "If you’re the one who makes the decision, it’s your fault if it’s the wrong one.”

(Dick comes back from the dead.)

Oooooh, boy, this one had me crying hard in just the beginning! It hurts! Very, very bad!

(Tim & Jason, mostly) New Alphabet by AllumetteRouge (RedRaidingHood)

Tim had hoped to have the manor (and Alfred’s cooking) for himself today. Only, there’s a fourteen-year-old Jason and a whole lot of trouble waiting for him.

Again, not as bad as the last one, but it is angsty--like real angsty--at certain points.

(Tim & Dick & Bruce, mostly) (You) Forgot About Where it All Began by Qais

Bruce is back from his jaunt through time, but his sons are not okay. Jason is aggrieved on Tim's behalf, and he isn't going to stay quiet about it.

This one makes me cry, too, and I just. It’s so emotional, at least to me.

(Jason & Tim) Tightrope by Acxa_Kogane for Kyra_Marmora

Time passed with baited breath as the gentle wind swept through the void, lightly pressing against Tim's outstretched fingers and playing with his hair. 

The two who stood at the beginning of the rope never took their eyes away from the one that was floating above the shadows.

Then, the careful steps began to slow, and suddenly stopped altogether.

I CRIED SO FUCKING HARD AT THIS ONE, JUST LIKE THE FIRST AND THIRD RECS. I WAS LISTENING TO THIS SONG AND WAS JUST SOBBING. HHHHHHHHHHHHH.

(Jason & Tim, mostly) Stages of Deterioration by aradian_nights

After Bruce finds Jason Todd, catatonic and traumatized, miraculously alive on the streets of Gotham, Tim, Dick, and Barbara attempt to fix their broken brother. AU for Invasion.

Horribly angsty at many points, this one gets ranked right up there with recs 1, 3, and 6. 1000/10 breaks my heart and actually made me cry a little during certain chapters.

(Damian and Tim & Jason) It's Not Poetic by the_authors_exploits

There is laughter in the air, and tears in their eyes; because it's all a ploy, a facade, and people fall for it all the time. Until it becomes too much to hide and the laughter fades and they can't ignore it anymore. PLEASE READ THE TAGS

I will absolutely never not recommend this fic, unless the tags are triggers for you. Otherwise I adore this fic--it is definitely one of my sheer favorites--and highly recommend it.

(Jason & everybody) The Calling by LananiA3O

Three years after escaping from prison, after almost complete radio silence, Jason heeds a call for assistance from Batman. When he disobeys a direct command in order to save more lives, old issues arise again, and Jason finally has enough. It is time to set the record straight...

This one will run you over, stomp on you, slam a piano on you, then stab you straight in the heart just to make sure you’re crushed and dead from angst. You will cry. You will grieve. I recommend it.

(Dick & Jason) these things define you by Miisakee

Jason and Dick go to fight a gang and it all goes downhill from there.

Another one of the lesser angsty fics! It is still very, very angsty, so be reassured you just might cry. Maybe. I can’t remember if I did.

(Bruce & Jason) Morning Sun by Lilfunny for drakefeathers

Between his death, resurrection and subsequent replacement, Jason Todd just really needs a hug. Or maybe he just needs his dad.

AHHHHH THIS ONE I DID CRY FOR! SO EMOTIONAL! BROKE MY HEART AND HIT ME IN THE GUT WITH A CROWBAR. I CRIED. MOST CERTAINLY RECOMMEND.

(Jason & Tim) It's Not That Funny by Ionaperidot

“I’m sorry I killed you, Jay," Tim says. "Please don’t be mad at me.”

Jason sighs, raising his head slowly. “You are not handling the Pit nearly as well as I thought you were.”

After Tim kills the Joker, Bruce sends him across the country with his parents, where he'll be safe. After Jason finds out, he tracks him down to visit. It's all going pretty well until Ra's al Ghul gets involved.

Okay, you really really need to be careful with this fic. There is very unhealthy coping mechanisms, several suicides, several murders, Jason lets Tim cut and burn him so he doesn’t do it to himself... It can be extremely triggering, so I strongly suggest you be careful before deciding to read this. It’s so utterly heart shattering. It makes you so very sad.

(Dick & everybody) If Night Falls in Your Heart by WithTheKeyIsKing

Dick never knew how to tell his family about what Tarantula and Mirage did to him, so he simply didn't.

That solution works, until it doesn't.

Hoo, boy, this was written by a friend of mine and she did not pull her punches as she wrote this, I’ll tell you that. I fucking cried. This one hurt and it hurt bad. This fic and the next rec both deal with Dick’s rape, so be advised.

(Dick & Jason) When I Needed You by firefright

On the night Blockbuster dies, Dick goes through one of the worst experiences of his life. But this time he's not alone, this time someone comes to save him. Someone familiar, though he doesn't figure that part out until much later.

Grahhh, I hurt so bad when I read this, and every time I come back to it I ache. It’s so heart-wrenching and emotional and I just--hhhhhhh. Recommend! If it’s not triggering, of course.

I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I WAS MAKING THE LIST THEN MY PAGE REFRESHED AND I LOST EVERYTHING SO I HAD TO START ALL OVER AGAIN AND I DIED A LITTLE BUT HERE IT IS! HERE YOU GO NONNIE! I’M SORRY THERE’S ONLY LIKE A FEW RECS BUT IT’S ALL I COULD REALLY FIND.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY!