#he was climbing on everything and then falling off which meant his shell clanked on shit and made noise

[bunnyb34r]

Well I WAS sleeping peacefully (aside from a bug bite on my fucking knee somehow) but Gurkle decided that it was his job to give me a wakeup call and get my ass up to feed him 😑

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Dark of the Night

So I thought this was kinda short but its actually 4 pages of writing, so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Murder, blood, cops, and mentions of WW2, drinking and sex

Master List

~~

“Come on out, let me see you.” The deep voice echoed through the trees behind you. You didn’t dare stop moving, despite the branches catching on your clothes and the skin exposed by your Halloween costume. Never in a million years did you actually expect this kind of thing to happen. The night had started off smoothly, a simple highschool Halloween party, the right mix of sexy and drunk that was supposed to end with everyone either getting laid or passing out. 

Somehow none of you were so lucky. 

When the first scream happened, it had brought everyone into the kitchen to find a giant of a man tearing apart the party's host. Her blood was staining the white tiles and within seconds of seeing this, even the bravest of football players had bolted from the scene. At first you had tried hiding in the basement, but that had resulted in someone’s corpse being dropped next to you, splattering you in blood. He had seen you, despite trying to keep quiet, and had tried to swing at you, but thanks to the small hallway you were in, he had only managed to cut your arm. You barely managed to escape the house, your shoes long abandoned, and no thoughts on your mind but to save yourself. 

Now here you were, running through the woods, barefoot and bleeding, hoping you would make it to town before he caught up with you. You swung yourself around a large tree, trying to catch your breath, but still remain quiet. 

“Hey! Over here!” Someone yelled quietly, “Hey!” You finally caught sight of the person trying to get your attention. It was one of the seniors who had been at the party, waving to you from a small hatch in the ground. “Get over here, quickly.” He motioned you over again, glancing towards the sound of the attacker approaching. You didn’t need to be told twice. You flew across the 15 feet to him in mere seconds, pulling the hatch closed as you climbed down the ladder. 

Inside was pitch black, and for a few seconds you were sure you were alone until you saw the light of his phone screen as he turned on his flashlight. “Are you-”

“Where are you?!” The attacker's voice comes from right above you and before you can react, his hand is clapped over your mouth, his body pressing yours against the damp wall behind you as he kept you both quiet. Your arms stings where his other hand is holding your wound, which makes your eyes water. His phone is on the floor now, the screen barely visible in the darkness. Far above you someone screams, and you hear the attacker running towards them, his heavy footfalls slowly retreating into silence. Your savior doesn’t move for several moments, waiting until he’s sure no one is there before letting you go and grabbing his phone. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want him to hear us.” He explains, shining his flashlight towards his own hand. You can’t see his face but he must have realized the blood on his palm was yours, because the next thing you know his light is pointed at you. “Oh shit, you’re bleeding.” You glance down at the gash on your arm, finally able to see the blood that's coating the length of your forearm. 

“Oh, he must have got me more than I thought.” 

“Come here, there's another room this way.” He holds out a hand for you to take, and you do, happily. In the other room is an old bed, a broken mirror, an old desk, and what looks like a dresser, though its beyond repair. He sits you on the bed, which shockingly holds your weight, and sits next to your injured arm. His phone is angled so the flashlight reflects off the mirror, casting light across the room. 

“What is this place?” You ask as he rips the sleeve of his tshirt off. 

“I think it might have been a world war 2 bunker. People built them all over the place. The other room has shelves and old canned food.” He explains, tying the scrap of his shirt over your cut. “You know you’re lucky you got away.” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I just hope some of the others did too.” 

“Me too. I’m Jaebeom by the way, but everyone calls me JB.” You chuckle at his cute smile, which looks so out of place with his black tshirt and eyebrow piercing. 

“I thought it was you.” You nod, “You’re part of-”

“If you say Jackson’s squad, I’m going back up top.” He groans, which makes you laugh again. 

“No, I was going to say Mark’s friend group.” You defend. “I’m Y/n, I’m Mark’s lab partner in Chem.” 

“Okay, I remember him talking about you.” He nods, “Good to know you’re real.” 

“And the only reason he’s passing Chem.” Above you another scream echoes, closer than last time. “Are you sure we’re safe down here?” 

“I don’t know, to be honest. If he knows where this place is, we’re sitting ducks.” He confesses. Absently, you reach for his hand, needing some kind of anchor. 

“Do you think someone was able to phone the police?” You look over at him again, but he’s focused on your entwined hands. “Can you?” He shakes his head sadly, looking back up at you. 

“I have no service down here. What about you?”

“I kinda threw my phone at the guys head. Hopefully its still at Nicole’s.” Your heart sinks when you remember what had happened to your friend. “Oh god, Nicole.” Your voice breaks, tears stinging your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, but the reality of what was happening was finally hitting you. 

“Hey, don’t cry.” JB’s voice is soft as he pulls you closer, letting you hide your face in his neck. “I’m scared too, but we’re alive. Isn’t that something to be happy about?” 

“Our friends are dead.” You remind him. 

“But we aren’t.” He reiterates. “Right now, we just need to focus on staying alive.” He pulls you away from him, looking you in the eyes. “We’ll stay down here for a while, then we’ll run back towards the house, okay?” You nod along. 

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Silence falls over the bunker as you both strain to hear the world around you, you’re still lying on his shoulder, savoring his warm arm around you. “You know there’s a rumor going around about you?” 

“Is there?” 

“Yeah, people say you’re dating some model from China.” JB laughs at the statement, which has you laughing as well. 

“Okay one, she’s Korean and two, she’s my cousin.” 

“Oh fuck!” You laugh, pulling him away as you crack up. He laughs with you, and the weight of reality begins to lessen. As you finally manage to get control of yourself, you can’t stop looking at him. Until now you had only ever been passing ships, hell you hadn’t even known he was at a party with only twenty-some guests. In the halls at school he never caught your eyes, but here you were, hiding in some dark ass bunker from a killer psychopath together, and despite everything that was happening one thought kept creeping back into your mind:

Damn he’s hot.

“So tell me-” He cuts himself off, smile dropping as he presses a single finger to his lips. Carefully he reaches over, grabbing both his phone and your hand in order to shut the light off. 

“Are you in there?” The voice doesn’t sound like the attacker but still has you clutching JB’s hand for dear life. He squeezes back, pulling you up and carefully making his way over to the corner by the door. JB pushes you against the wall, his body flush against yours as you try to make yourselves as small as possible. 

“We’ll be okay.” He breathes, lips just touching the shell of your ear. “I won’t let him hurt you.” You can hear the dull clanking of someone’s shoes coming down the ladder and have to press your face into JB’s neck to keep yourself quiet. “Down here!” Another voice calls, “I saw her go in.” You might have recognized the voice if you could hear it over your pounding heart. JB turns, keeping you behind him as he peers into the darkness. You can only grip the back of his shirt, praying that your deaths come quickly. Your arm throbs as the sound of someone’s shoes get closer, the beam of their flashlight swinging back and forth as they search for you. Peeking over his shoulder you watch the beam of light get closer and closer to the room until its shining directly in your face. 

“Jaebeom?” 

“Dad?” 

~~

A week passes almost silently. JB’s father, the sheriff, had driven you both to the hospital, and hours later, you were safe in your own bed. Only a few days later was the funeral. Seven of the 29 kids invited had been killed, 10 injured and 2 missing, but they had shown up at the police station just hours after their names had been announced, having been making out in their car on the mountainside. The killer, a hermit from a nearby town, had been killed when he tried crossing the highway after one of his potential victims. 

None of this really meant anything to you. What mattered was that you were alive, your best friend Jeongyeon was alive, and your friend Nicole was not. 

You had only seen JB once since that night, at the funeral. He hadn’t said anything to you, just stood beside you as you listened to the preacher send your friends off to heaven, and held your hand tightly. Finally after over a week, school was back in session, so here you were, trying to ignore the whispered rumors as you pulled your chemistry book from your locker.

“You know, that bunker’s still unlocked if you want to join me in there again.” His voice makes a smile erupt on your lips. 

“Only if you promise there won't be any more psychos trying to kill us.” You turn to find him opening the locker neck to you. “Have you been there all year?”

“All four, actually. I usually just kept everything in my backpack.” He explains, setting his lunch bag on the empty shelf.

“Then why-”

“Mark told me where your locker was.” He pulls one of his books from his bag, setting it in his locker. “And I meant what I said about the bunker.”

“How about somewhere above ground?” You offer, “Like the pizza place by the library?” His smile grows into a grin. 

“It’s a date?” He extends his hand for you to take. You nod, closing your locker and entwining your fingers together. 

“A date.”

[charliedoyleloves]

You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out w viktor? :>

“You Caught Me Doing Something Dangerous and Flipped Out” – Three Armed Metal Husband ft an engagement???? Maybe not exactly the trope, but still. I know you live for this content Maddie, do not lie to me.

@shvnpo

Also going to tag @sacredempressnatlyia because this seems like the type of thing you would like. If you don’t want to be tagged again, let me know!

He was stalking around the room again, his leg brace clacking against the floor with every odd step. Step, clack, step, clack, step.

The clack didn’t come, and they realized he knew they were awake.

“Charlize-“ his voice was a low growl, one that they were rarely on the receiving end of, “what were you thinking? The Enforcer? The Grey Lady?”

There were many things that Viktor was not. And subtle or patient was rarely one of them. He was a man of engineering, and engineering had things to do. Even his feelings were frantic and oh so loud. A fast paced song that they could never get him to dance with them to.

Charlie sat up, legs flexing where they couldn’t move any longer. They stared at Viktor, maskless and frazzled, so they did not need to stare down. It was obvious what was happening with them. Their job had them support their own weight, move it around and manipulate it.

Charlie knew that they were lighter now.

“You needed someone to go. The auction had Blitz’s tech, I needed to get it back for you.” Their arms supported them as they got into a straight sit. Legs aching. “How were any of us to know it was a set up for Ferros to go after someone? Lets face it, shady blackmarket deals is kind-of what I do for you.”

“No!” His arms flew wide, third arm pulling at his hair slightly. A habit to calm himself. “You’re a fucking acrobat Charlie! That is your job, one that I know you love! I don’t need you to be doing any of this!”

They threw up their hands, a sign that he would know was them condescending. With him trying to remove his emotions, how could they explain that they had to go after his technology because it would make him feel better. That their decision was purely emotional.

He took a deep breath, one they could almost feel in his song, and dragged his hands down his face.

“You are an important person. To the Cirque, to the Evolution.”

They bit their tongue, stopping themselves from making an inappropriately snarky comment. One to hide the hurt of him not mentioning himself. Once upon a time, he would have brought up that they were important to him.

But that was just being selfish. Viktor had his hands, all three, full with the prosthetics and surgeries he was doing. Important work.

“Just say it Vik. It was stupid and reckless.” They shrugged, listening to the frantic thrum of him. Hoping it would calm it down. “Not your fault, but mine.”

Just facts. The highest proof of something. Facts over feelings, right?

But he didn’t speak again for a while. Time that they used to finally face their own facts. Looking down, they traced the outline of their legs under the sheets. From their hips, to thigh, then cut off. The blade of the Grey Lady, the Steel Shadow of Piltover, cut clean through above their knee.

As they tried to flex the muscles, it didn’t work properly. The ends of them not anchored right. The end of their acrobatic career. But they pioneered a new type of magic with their studies before their performances. One that they could devote their time to now, right?

The tears darkened the sheet, hot and streaming steadily. Breath caught in their chest, a fault of emotion not physiology.

Step, clank, step, clank, step.

Viktor left the room, leaving them alone. Would the Cirque really care for them, now that they could not perform for them? Their parents didn’t care, their debt to the family paid off. Viktor suppressing any care in him. With his song gone, they were acutely aware of how alone they were.

Their own feelings, a song they thought they were deafened to, bounced off the walls of the empty room. Empty beds and empty chairs around them, just as their parents had warned. They could not leave the room, basically becoming a cell all their own. Just like would have waited for them had they stayed in Demacia.

Was their fate ultimately to always end up trapped?

Their breath quickened, and their legs twitched and magic buzzed beneath their skin. It did not come, instead the magic uselessly flowing to their legs and not returning. Trying to heal something that it was never meant too.

The metal walls only caused it to bounce back to them. An echo chamber for their unheard songs. Dragging them into their unfortunate thought spiral. Getting louder and louder in their magic which deafened them to everything.

When a hand rested upon their shoulder, it all stopped.

“Charlie, I’m going to remove the sheet.”

Viktor’s voice was far softer now, his song still frantic but not unusually so. The tempo off and instruments of his emotions not in sync. He must have used some of his chems to force himself to be calm.

They moved their hands so he could, turning their head to hide their distaste. The cut of their legs was clean, not shocking from a professional. If one of the Glorious Evolution was not there to cauterize the wounds, they would have died of bloodloss quite quickly. The young man’s chem induced calm likely being the only thing that saved their life.

But perhaps it would have been better if there were no such chems.

Charlie’s leg jumped at the feeling of cold metal, not at all the overly warm metal of Viktors augments. They swore, turning back to him before stopping.

Beside their leg was an intricately made full leg. Copper swirled in filigree above matte red and blues. The metalwork being among the finest he had made. Large enough to fit over their thigh. Long enough that it would have covered their entire leg. The feet being just their size.

“I can create the inner workings of a prosthetic for you, but…” His taking the calming chems made more sense as they looked over the fine craftsmenship. “Is this the shell of them you would want? Something plainer can be created, if it’s too much.”

An engagement gift. It wasn’t among the finest metalwork Viktor had made, but would have been the finest to date.

They looked to him, their eyes wide. Brown meeting his own dark blue. Exhausted rings around his, a stubble that would have taken him too many days without shaving to achieve. Third hand resting upon their shoulder and rubbing small circles.

On his knees beside their bed.

“You made me leg braces?”

Like the one he wore, but so much more. Just, more. Something they could wear in their performances. The points where they were most themselves, they would wear his finest work.

“A pair, yes.” One of his hands shook the spare one. Looking away to focus on his creation. “You hold onto Demacian Aesthetic Principles, and symmetry is a good thing, yes? And I was testing out some engineering that could give you options should your gravitational magic is not enough. I tested the heels, but they should be able to dampen the shock of large falls. Possibly even reducing them into their entirety because of the hydraulics-“

Charlie leaned forward and put a hand on his cheek. The frantic pace of his song increasing as everything was beginning to sound in tune. Accidentally wearing the chems away with the sheer frantic nature of the moment. A spiral downwards into emotion.

“Viktor, I would love for those to be the shells.” Their thumb rubbed against him, and they watched his eyes flit back and forth as he thought. “I just want to be sure what all you are asking me; will you marry me?”

They heard a group of wind instruments pause, a group of the assistants, nurses, and helpers of his Glorious Evolution listening in. With the augments he gave them, no doubt.

But his slight laughter against their hand pulled their thoughts from that. His eyes darting back to theirs as he leaned into their hand.

“How is it even when I’m on my knee, you propose?” All three of his hands rested on them. One a cheek, one at their waist, the third kept to their shoulder. A tired smile and the craftsmanship telling them how long he had thought of this. “But I need to be certain that you are not accepting because of a fear-“

“In my trunk with the Cirque, there is a cloak that is enchanted and made with the finest materials that I could get my hands on.” It was a task to keep their focus on his eyes, to not draw themselves inward. To not revert back to the childhood habit of taking up as little space as possible. “I ask you as someone who has spent the last five years loving you.”

They could not force a smile upon their face. Not because it wasn’t a happy moment, but because they needed him to know that this was serious to them. That they meant the words they said. That they spent nearly five hundred hours embroidering and enchanting the gift they were too scared to give him.

“My Gravity,” they flushed as the new nickname, knowing how important he thought such things; the heat of both his hands upon their cheeks; the intensity of his stare, “I will spend the rest of my days returning to you, for as long as you would have me.”

They laughed a bit, leaning into him as their hands went to hide their face. Ears reddening and curling into themselves. New leg to be accidentally falling to the ground.

“You could have just said yes.”

Their own song was humming in their ears, heartbeat acting as the drumline. His laughter adding more to the music.

His hands shifted, letting him shift them further onto the bed, and he climbed up. Not nearly as armored as usual, the thin fabric of his shirt warming them up. Literally being soft around them. They hid further into their hands.

Pillows were shuffled, him trying to find a comfortable way to lay down in the bed that was too small for him. Legs bent where theirs was propped against him. Not saying a thing about how he curled around them as if to protect them.

Charlie did elbow him about it.

“So,” he whispered into their hair, “do you think I will have to tell my mother about this? Or will the others whom were totally working and not listening in will?”

They laughed into their hands and his chest.

“Would you risk her not hearing it from you the first moment you see her next?” Hands were moved, trying to figure out the new comfortable. Still tucked under his chin. “If the first thing you say to her is not ‘I got engaged’ or ‘They Said Yes’, she will hold it over you for the rest of your life. Frankly, you should call her now.”

“Maybe.” It was a hum against their head. “You need rest though. I noticed that your mana has been draining and it has been impacting your vitals for days. Sleep, more sugars to keep yourself balanced, and low activity until I can at least make a temporary prosthetic to stop the magic from draining.”

“Can I ask one thing?”

Another hum.

“Can you kiss me?” They could feel and hear the curious and amused look on his face. Whether it was their magic or just seven years of knowing him was not as important. “We did just get engaged, I did just wake up from a major injury, and it has been over a week since the last time.”

One of his hands tilted their chin uncomfortably high as he stooped at an equally uncomfortable level on the bed. But it was still a kiss that they loved dearly.