#her saying that gave me whiplash and immediately made me feel sick

[criticalbeauregard]

so much of laudna’s journey with delilah has reminded me of dani at the end of bly manor but probably never more than her just now saying “she’s gonna take me” exactly like dani during the “the beast in the jungle” monologue

[lustbile-archive]

Can We See Some ID?

LucasxReaderxHendery

Word Count: 6.4K

Summary/Warnings: Next installment of Club X. Smut, threesome, double penetration, anal & vaginal sex, semi-public (alleyway) sex, both Hendery and Lucas being kinda suspicious, and as always blood and sharp object play. (also oof this is the longest one I’ve written yet)

Apart of my Club X Series: Masterlist

(Recommend reading other works (especially Mark’s) but it’s not requiered)

You’d be lying if you said the atmosphere of the club hadn’t rattled you from the moment you and your friends stepped in. The lights and blaring music was enough to shake you, but the way you were swept in by your friends, first to a crowded booth, and then almost immediately to the bar almost gave you whiplash.

The amount of writhing bodies worried you a bit admittedly when you had first walked in, but something about the air, the energy that ran rapid across every square inch of the place made it feel like your brain was made of cotton. That and you hadn’t gotten to sit down for long, before the group was standing again, moving in search of drinks. And a part of you had wanted to stay in the booth with your friend and the mysterious boy that stayed back, but not only did you not want to intrude on whatever spark that was dancing between them, but it was almost like there was an invisible force pushing you away from the booth, telling you that you needed to leave that very second.

It felt like everything in Club X had been created to move at a million miles per second, and you could only somewhat push down and ignore the nagging voice in the back of your mind that told you something was off.

You smiled regardless as you leaned against the old wood of the bar, the small amount of alcohol that the bartender had provided you swam through your veins and made you feel airy.

The sweet candy-like flavor of the drink only helped to smother the voice, but it had also left you feeling woozy. Feeling like a child who had gorged themselves on too many halloween candies, you dropped the glass down onto the bar with a loud clunk and leaned away, desperately needing a breath of outside air.

You peered over the heads of the bodies that swirled around you, looking desperately for the friend who had dragged you all here in the first place. You’d feel weird just disappearing, even if it was only for a moment, without warning or letting anyone know where you had gone.

You could feel a dopey grin fill your face when you caught a glimpse of where she stood, too sloshed with varying emotions to be concerned with how foolish you may have looked.

You tripped slightly over your own feet as you moved closer to where she stood, silently scolding yourself for how funny you had let yourself feel regardless of consuming such a little amount of alcohol, but you didn’t feel drunk. No, it was something else that ran around underneath your skin and made you feel like every step you took was about an inch above the floor you moved on. Something you couldn’t really feel or see or taste, but you knew it was there as it warmed every inch of your body and turned your legs to jelly.

And it had seemed the exact same force had taken its hold on your friend, as when you reach her you have to speak her name about three times before she turns to look at you, reluctantly turning away from the eye contact that she was holding with the boy she had brought you all here to meet. Her eyes are dazed when they meet yours, in a way that you could only read as love sick, a soft smile pulled across her lips, and your briefly aware of the way one her hands is tangled with his, while his free hand is not so discreetly crawling its way under her skirt.

“Hey,” you speak softer than you had intended, a soft slowness coating your words like honey, but she seems to hear you perfectly fine when her eyebrows dart up in curiosity, “I’m gonna step out for a minute, get fresh air and maybe take a smoke.”

The way she nods is endearing, almost like a child who had just been told something that they’d consider sacred knowledge, “okay,” she pauses, the words almost visibly forming in her mind, “be safe and I have my phone so call if you need me, we’ll probably be back at the booth by the time you get back.”

“Hm, tight,” you mirror her nodding, turning towards the entrance, “love you.”

Her response of ‘love you too,’ is only a whisper as she says it at your back as you walk away.

It feels as if the bodies of the other club goers are easier to pass through as you walk to the empty entrance, as if they step away to make room for you to pass. You’re to the door much faster than it took to get to the booth, and it's almost as if the space in front of the entrance was another universe with the way that people seem to be avoiding it as if they’d get in trouble if they got too close.

If the entrance was purgatory, the outside of the club was heaven. The cool bite of the soft wind was welcomed by your heated skin. The way the atmosphere felt was such a blunt contrast you had to take a moment to adjust, a sharp inhale of air filled your lungs and your eyes fluttered closed as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a tight hold.

“Is the club that rough these days?” you jump and your eyes shoot open at the unexpected voice. Your head turns, and the moment you make eye contact with one of the bouncers, you feel your skin warm in embarrassment at being caught enjoying the fresh air a bit too much.

“Sorry,” you stutter out, stepping away from the entrance and standing on the opposite side from them, “I forgot you guys were standing out here, and it was getting a little stuffy in there.”

“You’re fine,” the other reassures, his voice has a deeper timber to it than the other man’s, and the way he leans his shoulder against the wall accentuates how long his legs are, showing that he’s also the taller of the two, “we just don’t usually see people walk out as much as they walk in.”

Your confusion makes its home on your face through your furrowed eyebrows at the way his words trail off at the end of his sentence, and the way his soft and confident smile falls as his eyes trail your body. You dart your eyes in search of the other man, hoping that you can escape the intense look in his eyes, only to find that he’s looking at you in the same way. You feel your heartbeat pick up in your chest, the feeling getting rapid enough that you can feel it in your throat. You can’t help but shift under their stares, your lips tucking between your teeth to chew on as you try to figure out what you could have said or done to make them look at you so intensely.

You introduce yourself, your name slipping past your lips in an offering before you can even think, and the sudden change in conversation seems to break them from whatever weird spell they had found themselves under as they smile in recognition.

“Lucas,” the taller man nods as a greeting before leaning towards the other man.

“Hendery,” his quiet laugh disjoints the syllables slightly, but not enough that you can’t understand, and there’s something about the knowledge of their names that warms your chest and puts you slightly at ease. You no longer feel as on edge as you did only moments before, and you can even feel your body subconsciously shifting closer to where they stood.

“Well,” you start, glancing around the empty street and picking at the cuff of your long sleeved shirt, “I don’t want to bother you two while you’re working, and I should probably be getting back to my friends.”

You feel your reluctance as you speak, not fully convinced that you want to pull yourself away from the two handsome men. Something about the way they continue to stare at you makes you feel a turning in your stomach that is a stark difference from the one you felt in the club. It’s as if you forgot the reason you came out here in the first place, as you stand there almost reveling in their attention. You have to stop yourself from jolting in excitement when Hendery speaks, stopping you from moving back through the entrance.

“Well, we’re not particularly busy,” he glances at Lucas who simply nods in agreement, “and it's usually only us two so we wouldn't mind the new face.”

You’re momentarily reminded of the fact that they had let your group of friends enter the club without asking for even one ID and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from reminding them of this fact when he mentions them not being busy. Instead you smile, and begin to take the handful of steps to get to where they stand.

“You got a light?” you ask as you pull a half empty pack of cigarettes from your small purse, a curious arch in your eyebrow as you silently beg for an excuse to stay.

“I do,” Lucas nods, pulling a cherry red lighter from his pants pocket, “if you’ve got one to spare?”

“Of course,” you place one of the cigarettes between your teeth before holding the box out to him. You feel your heart stutter when he leans closer and, instead of using his hand, he bites one that sticks out, putting his lips far closer to your skin then you had thought they would ever get. You tell yourself the quick wink he offers before leaning away is your imagination, and instead offer the box to Hendery, who simply shakes his head in disinterest.

You hear the spark of the lighter as you return the pack to your purse, looking back up in time to see Lucas releasing the smoke from his lungs with his head tilted back, and if you weren’t hyper aware of the way Hendery continued to devour you with his eyes, you would have probably allowed yourself to drool a bit over the way his neck stretches and his veins pop out.

“C’mere,” he slurs, the cigarette still bitten between his teeth as he nods for you to come closer.

You lean closer again, the cigarette balanced between your lips as you wait for him to light it, trying desperately to not crumble at the way the proximity forces you to stare at his warm skin illuminated by the soft orange of the flame.

He’s only centimeters away when the fire is blown out by the wind. He clicks his tongue in disappointment and tries again, only for it to face the same fate, and you can’t help but wonder why the wind hadn’t affected it when lighting his.

“Here,” Hendery speaks softly as he leans closer, his cupped hand lifting to block the end of the cigarette. Lucas hums in appreciation, and the side of Hendery’s hand brushes softly against your cheek making your eyes flutter closed as the cigarette is successfully lit.

The lighter is pulled away, as well as Hendery’s hand, making your breath quietly rush out through your nose as you lean back. Your nerves once again thud against your skin as you breathe the smoke into your lungs, the amount of time it's been since the last time you had smoke made the taste and smoke burn at the back of your throat and you're clearing your throat before it can make you cough.

“You smoke often?” Hendery asks, no trace of judgment in his tone, curious at your reaction and simply trying to build conversation as Lucas mirrored you in puffing on his cigarette.

“Nah,” you answer honestly, shaking your head softly, “it’s more of a social thing or when I get pretty stressed.”

“You stressed about something?” Lucas asks like he already knows the answer, his lips pulling into a crooked smile and the smoke spills from his lips as he speaks. His eyes widen in curiosity and Hendery lets out a soft hum in concern, and you can't help but warm at their worry about you.

“You could say that,” you nod once you pluck your own cigarette from your lips, your finger tapping on it to knock off the growing ashes, “just life I suppose, nothing major or different than what everyone deals with.”

“You know what they say is a really good stress reliever,” Hendery starts, his eyes flicking to Lucas as they exchange what you assume is a silent understanding. You hum in curiosity, shifting slightly closer to hear him.

“Sex,” the way he says it is far too casual, his tone steady as if he was recommending a new restaurant. You feel nervous laughter building up in your chest, your face warming at being scandalized, and you turn in hopes to find Lucas in the same state at his friend’s boldness, only to see him chuckling deeply in agreement.

“Yeah, what is it they’re calling it these days?” Lucas pauses, pretending to wrack his brain for an answer before grinning, “post nut clarity?”

“Yeah okay,” you huff, dropping your half finished cigarette to the ground and digging the toe of your shoe against the end to snuff out the fire, “I'll keep that in mind if I ever get the offer.”

Your sarcastic tone and attitude gets stuck in your throat when you meet their hardened stares as they burn against your skin. You can’t help but let out another nervous and confused laugh before you begin to catch on to what their dark eyes are telling you.

“You don’t mean…” you trail off, your hand lifting as you move an accusatory finger between the two of them, “are you suggesting I have sex with one of you?”

“Not one,” Lucas says quietly yet bluntly, taking his turn in shaking his head as he snuffs his cigarette against the cinder of the building he leans against, his hands slipping into the pockets of his pants as he lets his eyes trail the length of your body.

“Both of us preferably,” Hendery finishes the thought as he moves towards you, his own hand lifting to return to the side of your face and the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek bone, making you shiver before your eyes shift back to Lucas for confirmation.

“We know you want us,” Lucas speaks so confidently it nearly knocks the wind from your chest. Your floundering for a response when he continues with unwavering sureness in his voice, “and we both want you so I don’t see why not.”

You’re standing frozen once the words are in the air, neither of the boys speaking further to let you collect your thoughts and wrap them around the offer. You’d be lying if you ever tried to claim you didn’t want them, the arousal that’s begun to bite at your lower stomach making sure you know that, and you’d be a bigger liar if you said the idea of them both having their way with you didn’t set you skin ablaze with a dangerous excitement.

“Well we can’t do it here,” the voice of reason in your mind makes you speak one last time before its smothered by Hendery’s hand that still pets at your skin and the unimpressed look Lucas throws your direction, “aren’t you on the clock?”

“We can do whatever we want,” Hendery attempts to reassure, a cocky spike in his voice that makes your stomach turn.

“We can round the corner if you want,” Lucas says, nodding his head in the direction of the alley beside the club. His eyes dart to look at Hendery, who stiffens slightly beside you, before he offers another, slightly confusing reassurance, “it's still in the perimeter of the club so we’ll be fine.”

You can’t help but feel detached from the ‘we’ he speaks about as he speaks more to Hendery, the boy in question hesitantly nodding before he turns to you, “we know you want to, so why don’t you come have some fun? No one will see you unless you want them to.”

You assume he means the shadows of the alley will protect you versus the view you’d be putting on right on the street, but something about his words hits you in the gut. The same dizzy feeling you had felt in the confines of the club were returning and you could feel your stomach tightening in anticipation. There was no doubt found anywhere in your body anymore, and you start to think that messing around with these boys in a dark alley is exactly what you’re meant to do tonight.

Before you can even form a coherent response, you dumbly nod at Lucas in agreement as Hendery starts walking towards the alley. Regardless of the want and excitement that’s building in you, you can’t help but hesitate where you stand, and with his dark eyes still glued to you, Lucas takes notice of your nerves and with a gesturing hand encourages you to follow in Hendery’s steps.

You nod once again, before you will your feet to move, the same feeling of hovering slightly above ground hits you again and you fear that the world may pass you too quickly. It’s not until you stand at the entrance of the alley, curiously watching Hendery as he leans against the wall, are you knocked into reality by Lucas gently shoving you until you're crashing into Hendery’s chest.

In your shock, your fingers wrap around the fabric of his shirt and his move to steady you by your waist. It’s hard not to get overwhelmed by how close he suddenly was, and he seems almost as shocked as you as he stares into your eyes with his eyebrows raised high.

You’re sure that you could get lost and locked into place by his eyes, if it weren’t for the feeling of Lucas’ hands grabbing you again. One of them reaches down to grab your leg at the bend of your knee and hike it around Hendery’s hip, both of you gasping at the way it presses you two against each other so suddenly.

“You two are so cute,” Lucas starts, a teasing glint to his voice, while his other hand impatiently reaches under your skirt and begins ripping the seams of your underwear until the scraps of fabric falls at your feet, “but I’ve waited too long for this for you two to start acting coy now.”

You’re only given milliseconds to try to decipher what he means by waiting for this before you feel his rough fingers gripping the hem of your shirt and shoving it up towards your chest. He catches your bralette on the way towards your collar bones, releasing your chest to the cool wind of the night and you can’t help the gasp of shock you let out at the feeling of the fabric of Hendery’s shirt brushing the pebbling skin.

Hendery’s hands slowly return to your skin from where they were knocked away by Lucas’ impatient actions, and you look at him with pleading eyes, asking silently for something you yourself are unaware of. He quietly coos at you in an attempt to calm your rapidly changing emotions, but is quickly interrupted by Lucas’ quick actions.

“You’re gonna be real good for us hm?” Lucas asks rhetorically, his blunt nails running up the back of your thighs. A shiver wracks your body at the feeling, and warmth fills your chest when you see that your response, paired with the soft pout that rests on your mouth, resparks the cocky nature Hendery had earlier. The soft smirk he wears at your already submissive nature and the dark chuckle lets out makes an evil tingling feeling run under every inch of your skin.

“Please,” the word slips from your teeth before you can even think of it, and you're curling into Hendery’s chest while tilting your hips back into Lucas’ hands before you could even consider how shameless you may look.

“Hendery,” Lucas addresses the other man, ignoring your pleads as his hand falls to softly pet at the wetness that’s beginning to collect between your legs, “we’ll need a little distracting while I get everything prepped okay?”

“Yeah,” the word comes out wrapped in a sigh before he moves on hand to grab your jaw. He shows no hesitation before his mouth molds against yours, his greedy tongue immediately pushing past your lips and swallowing your moans as his other hand moves to roll one of your sensitive nipples harshly between his finger tips.

You’re completely oblivious to the soft clicking of a cap from behind you, as you try to memorize the heat of Hendery’s mouth and taste of his tongue. You’re equally as oblivious to the reassuring warning Lucas offers, but there’s no way of ignoring the cool and thick liquid that rests on his fingers as they brush your skin from your clit to the tip of your tailbone.

You pull away from Hendery’s mouth, gasping as your head turns slightly in Lucas’ direction. The tingling feeling his fingers and the gel had left behind had you reeling and the two boys chuckle darkly in response.

“Of course you have lube,” Hendery says accusingly, yet slightly impressed.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Lucas asks rhetorically, his slick fingers returning to your body and finding their way to the entrance you hadn’t anticipated being used when they invited you to the alley, but considering you hadn’t expected being here at all, you find it hard to be surprised by anything the two of them could throw at you, “I had a feeling we’d be sharing our person and I’m not a big fan of taking turns if I’m being honest.”

You don’t get a chance to ask what he could have meant by their person before Hendery brings your mouth back to his. He swallows every whimper and whine that slips from your mouth at the cold sensation of Lucas’ fingers, and greedily laps up the pleased yet confused gasp you let out when one of his long digits presses into you. You feel your muscles relax as you melt against the both of them, the taste of Hendery’s lips and his playful fingers tugging at your skin does distract you from Lucas’ actions, yet you still find yourself surprised by how pliant you are to his explorative nature. He only moves his long finger in and out of you a few times before your eyes are rolling back at the foriegn but weirdly pleasurable feeling.

“You good baby?” Lucas’ deep voice rasps in your ear, and another cocky laugh is breathed against the shell of your ear when you nod to your best ability as you arch back into him, “you’re lucky we can do what we do, or I’m not sure you’d be enjoying this as much as you are right now.”

“You’re being too obvious don’t you think?” Hendery asks when you pull away to let out a confused hum, a slightly disappointed rumble to his voice as you move your still hungry mouth to his neck.

“What? I think they should be able to tell by now that there’s something up don’t you think?” Lucas gets more confident as he speaks while his words and unrelenting pace only works to jumble your brain further, “How the club makes them feel, the willingness to just do whatever we ask, how relaxed they are? Hell I said something about our person earlier, I'm sure they’re starting to catch up a little bit hm?”

“You have such a big mouth,” Hendery retorts, not in an insulting tone, more just stating a fact, “if you’re so confident in our abilities, how about you add another finger?”

“Gladly,” Lucas’ tone is smug and you feel your heart rate pick up at what the challenge means for you. This time you hear the telling noise of the lube being released from its bottle and feel the new wave of cool it has as it lands directly above where his finger moves inside of you. As his finger leaves your body to collect the gel, you try to remind yourself to relax, but when he moves to press two of his amazing long fingers into your body, you’re shocked at how easily they slide in. There’s still a tension there that’s impossible to ignore, but you still flounder and whine a bit at the ease he has at pulling you apart. Whatever abilities of Lucas’ that Hendery had doubted earlier, they are definitely at work on your body as you all but turn to jelly against them, but you couldn’t for the life of you wrap your mind around what could be possibly happening to you as you’re pressed between the two men.

“How about you start having your fun Hendery?” Lucas asks, taking your neglected nipple between the fingers of his own free hand and running the flat of his tongue up the skin of your neck, while his fingers gently scissor inside you, “we’ll be ready to in no time so how about you get us really started.”

The huff he lets out is transparent, the eagerness to really get started on something shining through completely as his hand falls from its place from your jaw to start to pull and tug at the waistband of his pants.

Your eyes shut at the noise of his belt being undone, and you feel your heart in your throat when you feel him pull himself from the fabric, his damp tip brushing against the skin of your thighs.

Lucas’ hand falls from your chest to grab at your thigh again, his fingers rough as they hike your leg higher onto Hendery’s hip while he continues to spread you open and Hendery slowly jerks himself off against you.

“God please,” you groan into Hendery’s neck, the feeling of Lucas’ fingers and the stickiness Hendery leaves behind on your skin has you reeling an impatient. The two men only laugh quietly at your desperation, and Lucas groans when your hips start moving on their own along with his movements.

“Get it on dude, can’t keep us waiting can you?” Lucas taunts before moving his mouth back onto your skin, hoping the challenge will get the other boy to work faster.

There’s a grumble from Hendery that rattles your chest as he starts to lose the grasp on his own patience, and as you shiver between them he starts dragging his tip against your sensitive skin.

“Hendery please,” your voice feels like thick honey as it leaves your throat, “I need it so bad please.”

Lucas hums against your neck at your pleading, and you hear Hendery let out a deep huff at your tone. There’s a moment where he shuffles his feet, adjusting his stance with his free hand wrapping around your waist, before he starts to move inside you. The feeling of him entering you, and Lucas’ still moving digits throws you off. The sudden intrusion makes your back arch as you lean back against Lucas, making them both laugh again at your reaction.

Once he’s fully inside you, he moves his hand to take over the job of holding your leg high on his hip, and Lucas takes the opportunity of a free hand to wrap it loosely around your neck.

You can already feel that you are losing yourself when Hendery starts moving, his thrust moving at the same pace as Lucas’ fingers. The fact that you’re standing in an alley out in the open completely escapes your mind as you start to moan out into the cold air.

The roughness of Hendery’s thrusts knocks your hands off his shirt, your greedy hand leaving behind stretched fabric. They flail in the air only a few moments before they latch onto the wrist of the hand Lucas has around your neck, holding on desperately and digging your nails into his skin while your eyes roll back into your skull.

Your so caught up with the feeling of Hendery moving inside you and the way Lucas’ hand interrupts the blood flow to your head that you only somewhat notice the feeling of his fingers moving inside you. You whimper at the loss of sensation, but the noises are destroyed by interrupting moans and cries.

Lucas’ teeth latch onto your jaw right above where his fingers hold you, the bite and burn of your skin and the way Hendery grunts in front of you distracts you from the sound of Lucas undoing his pants and the lube being opened again. It’s not until you feel him pressing into you from behind do you feel like you might genuinely fall apart.

Lucas’ feet shuffle a bit behind you, pressing you further into Hendery with his hand still around your neck. Hendery’s thrusts slow down when he realizes what is happening, and both boys start to coo at you in encouragement.

“You can take me hm?” Lucas asks rhetorically, as he presses only an inch inside you, the stretch much less than what you had expected, but still jarring with Hendery still stretching you out on his own. You never had expected to be as calm as you were pressed tightly between their chests, but something about their breaths and their hands kneading against your skin makes you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. Some nagging voice inside your head tells you to relax and take anything they throw at you and before you know it, you’re whining for more.

Lucas thrusts gently, adding more and more lube as he moves deeper inside you. You’re sure that you’ve never felt more full nor held in your entire life and shivers start to wrack your body as you try to shift back onto where Lucas tries to move slowly.

“Fuck, so impatient,” Hendery groans as he watches you desperately move, an air of arrogance filling the space between you, “I never thought it would be like this.”

“It’s wild huh?” Lucas asks over your shoulder, once again speaking as if you’re not between them as you deeply breath trying to collect your sanity, “fuck it feels so good.”

You and Hendery both groan in agreement, making Lucas grin into your neck, and with both of them pressed flush against you, you feel your body relaxing and going lax as you softly clench around them.

There’s a moment of pause, where their hands roam your skin as they adjust around you. Both of your legs now find their way hooked around Hendery’s hips, his arms hooked around the backs of your knees, as Lucas’ grip around your upper thighs and ass, helping to support you while also holding you spread open for him. Each of your hands grip onto their shirts as they press their chests tightly against you, and once you’ve caught your breath and gently nod at them, they begin moving.

Lucas’ hands do most of the work as they start to bounce you slightly between them, the movement forcing them to knock into you at the same pace, stuffing you full each time.

You feel your toes curling against your shoes as you flex around them. The pleasure you receive from both of them hard and warm inside you making you start to feel delirious once again. Their grunts and your moans fill the hollow space of the alley and you finally start to let yourself succumb to the pleasure.

You can feel your chest moving with their pace, your head tilting back as your jaw slowly opens. Your arousal growing and dripping around them, and with the amount of lube Lucas laid on your skin and his, you're soaking.

They stay at a moderate pace, moving you up and down slowly but pushing deep inside you every time, “you love this don’t you?” Lucas rasps in your ear making a shiver run up your spine and you only open your eyes enough to see the way Hendery watches you like you have been personally delivered to him from heaven.

“You wanna come,” it's not a question when Hendery speaks, but a statement that he’s completely confident in. You only have his attention long enough to weakly nod as they continue to move you between them before his eyes are moving to Lucas.

You can feel Lucas nod against your back before one of his hands disappears from your skin, Hendery’s arms flexing as he takes on more of your weight, his hips now moving with you to help keep you up between them.

His hand returns to your skin, once again wrapping around your neck, but this time he wears a thick metal ring on his index finger. The coolness of the material makes you flinch, but you try to ignore it. It gets harder to ignore it, when you notice a sharp chip on it start to bite into the below your jaw.

“Ow,” you let out weakly between gasping moans, the quiet noise of discontent being ignored by both of them as they continue to move inside you while the ring starts to draw blood from the shallow wound it creates.

It’s not until you feel a thick drop of blood hit your collarbone does he let up, his hand letting go and trailing down your side. It disappears once again, only for a second or two before it returns to its original place, the ring now missing from his finger.

You try to ignore the stinging pain on your neck, thinking it was just accident, already so lost in the fogginess of your mind that their heated breaths had created that it isnt hard to ignore, until Hendery speaks again.

“You first,” he nods at Lucas, his hips still moving roughly against you. You try to ignore him again, your fingers winding tighter around his shirt as you feel yourself teetering closer and closer to the edge, until Lucas is nudging your head to the side, “touch yourself for us baby, we wanna see you come.”

You let go of his shirt hesitantly, reaching down between your bodies in search of your neglected clit, when you feel Lucas’ lips latch around the burning wound on your neck. His full lips suck harshly against the skin, pulling your thickened blood into his mouth as your hand jerks in shock. You’re not sure why, but the shock of pain that runs down the side of your neck causes a new wave of arousal over your body, and in your desperation, your fingers move to roll fast circle over your clit.

Lucas pulls away after getting his fill of your sweetened blood, his tongue laving over the wound as the blood continues to spill in a steady stream down your neck.

If you weren’t pushed close enough to your finish from Lucas’ mouth, you get even closer when Hendery leans closer and takes his place. His mouth is even more eager than Lucas’, his more hyper energy showing through his mouth as he sloppily licks at the broken skin.

His mouth follows you as you continue to be roughly bounced between them, their unrelenting pace and their biting mouths combined with your own hand that seems to be possessed by some restless demon as it moves against your clit, finally pushes you over the edge you had been so dangerously dancing on.

You loudly gasp when your orgasm hits. Your legs violently shaking in their holds as you come and clench around them. It’s like a sharp electricity shoots around under your skin and you only hear them groan darkly in response.

You can’t seem to rip your own hand away, forcing you to push yourself through your own orgasm as they continue to fuck you full. You had never imagined you could possibly feel more full than you did until you feel their hands tighten and you hear the animalistic growls they let out while they start to come inside you.

Their come is thick as it fills you, and they continue to fuck you on them, shoving the evidence of their orgasms deep in you. Aftershocks wrack all three of you as it seems there’s a malevolent evil that wraps around you making it impossible to rip yourselves away from each other.

It’s Hendery who loses his footing first, his orgasm weakening his hold on you as he claws at your skin. He hesitates long enough to allow Lucas to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you tight against him as he stays deep inside you, finally allowing Hendery to drop your legs and detach his mouth from your skin as he leans back against the cold building.

Lucas pulls out as Hendery fixes his pants, his hands kneading your tensed muscles as you try to find your strength to stand on your own two feet. You can only imagine how much you three look like newborn deer as you all stumble around the alley, but with Lucas’ remaining strength he helps you stand and begins to adjust your clothing.

Once your top and skirt are in their rightful place, he passes you off to Hendery who holds you tightly against his chest. You both watch with widened eyes as Lucas pushes himself back into the fabric of his pants and you curl against his form, suddenly desperate for the physical reassurance.

There’s another moment of calm where you three look at each other intently. The only true evidence of what conspired amongst you being the stream of their combined come that rolls down the inside of your thighs. You want to cringe at the feeling, but you hatefully admit to yourself that there’s a gross sense of calm the feeling brings to you as you stand there.

“We have to get cleaned up huh?” Lucas is first to break the silence as he moves closer to the two of you. His fingers brush against the skin of your neck as he stares into your eyes, before he’s returning his attention to Hendery, “do y’think scary boss man will let us go back to our room to get back to normal.”

“We’ll have to ask,” he responds looking down at you with caution, “you know how he gets about the first time.”

“Yeah I do, but I like to think our first time is a little bit of a special case,” his eye return to you, an unexpected softness held behind them as he moves his thumb to tap against the tip of your nose, “but after that we have to get you back to your friends. Can’t break more than one rule tonight.”

[futurebicon]

No Control Part 2

Part 2. I'm actually managing to write these faster than I thought I would be able to. Part 3 will probably take a little bit longer considering I had more time during the weekend. But I hope part 3 will be out as soon as I can write it.

Warning- hospital, mentions of car accident, semi and brief panic attack (?), no medical knowledge

Remus didn't know what to do as he sat in the cold metal chair of the hospital waiting room.

Leo was frozen. Staring blankly at the wall in front of him. His pupils were wide and his skin was a ghostly pale. His chest was rising and falling quicker than it probably should be.

He was 19 years old. He had never lost someone before and now he was in danger of loosing one of the loves of his life. No wonder his mind was trying to protect him.

Shock

Finn was pacing the room and would of punched the wall about half a dozen times if Dumo hadn't stopped him.

Anger

Remus didn't know what was going on. He kept looking towards the doors thinking Sirius would walk through them with his bright smile and kiss him with his soft lips. "Ready to go, mon loup? Doctors said I'm fine so you can stop your worrying. Lets go home and cuddle and maybe later I can prove to you just how fine I am."

Denial

+++

The team trickle in quickly.

James and Lily first. James wanted a play by play of what happened as Lily ran over to Remus with tears on her face. She pulled him into her side and let him cry.

Regulus was next. Pale and frantic. He went over to Leo after squeezing Remus's shoulder in a desperate attempt to comfort. He sat beside his best friend and didn't say anything, just let him process what was happening while hoping his presence help enough.

Remus must have zoned out because when he blinked again the entire team had filled the small waiting room.

"What happened?" James asked again.

"Uh-" Remus explained how they got the call with stuttered and hitched breaths.

+++

"Sirius Black?" The doctor walked into the waiting room.

"Is he okay?" Remus jumped up.

She smiled kindly. "Have a seat."

That can't be good.

"Sirius is in surgery right now to fix severe internal bleeding in his head and to remove his spleen which was ruptured in the crash."

"Oh god." James breathed.

"Now I know it sounds extremely bad but he can survive without a spleen. The only long lasting effects will be a weakened immune system." She calmed their nerves only slightly.

"He does have severe head trauma, the extent of which we won't know until he wakes up. He broke four ribs, one of which punctured his lung. Along with that he also broken both his tibula and his fibula on his left leg. And has severe whiplash. It might not seem like it but he is suspected to make a full recovery. I'll be back if anything happens and when he's out of surgery." She left the room, passing a man in a matching white coat on the way out.

"Logan?" Leo choked.

The doctor nodded and sat down. "His injuries are extensive but he will be able to make a full recovery."

They all let out a sigh of relief.

"He has severe internal bleeding in his chest, abdomen, and head. He also has severe whiplash. His kidney's were mildly damage and he has bruising on his heart. I know it sounds terrifying but all it means is he needs to take it slow and not move around too much." He told them. "You'll be able to see him once we get him stable."

"He- he's not stable?" Finn stammered.

"His vitals are taking a while to get under control." He hesitated. "But it's nothing too concerning considering the trauma his body went through."

They two didn't say anything and the doctor left the room to silence.

+++

Logan was awake when they came in.

"Hi, loves." He rasped out.

Finn sobbed and had to stop himself from flinging himself into his injured boyfriend.

"Shh. I'm okay. I'm okay." His words were slow but held comfort as he cupped his face with a bandaged hand. "I'm okay."

"Lo" Leos voice was gasped and choked. He made no attempt to hide the fear.

"Hey Peanut." Logan smiled. "Come here"

Leo took a step towards him and stopped. "I dont- um- what if I-"

"You're not gonna hurt me. I'm okay."

"But I could." He scanned the room like he was trapped.

"Hey" Finn stood up and walked over to the teenager who hadn't fully come out of his shock yet and seeing his love like this made his mind want to hide away again.

"Here." He gently led him over to the hospital bed. "He's okay."

"Hi, my baby." Logan smiled and grabbed Leo's hand.

"You're okay?"

"I'm okay." Logan nodded.

"Promise?" His voice was broken and his eyes never stopped their sweep of the room.

"I promise."

"Okay." He breathed out and finally calmed down enough to sit beside Logan's bed.

+++

"Hey, Loops" Logan nodded at the pale man as the team walked in. "Any updates?"

"He's still in surgery." His voice was rough with tears and misuse. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore and in pain but I'm alive." He shrugged.

"Thankfully." Dumo walked over.

"Hey, Dumo." Logan hugged him as well as he could.

"Scared me for a while there, kiddo."

"Sorry about that."

"So what happened exactly?" Kasey asked.

"We were gonna go get something to eat and Sirius turned at a greenlight. Someone ran the light and hit Sirius's side. We spun out and then rolled, fuck I don't even know, a lot of times. I think I blacked out on the six or seventh roll. Maybe the second. It felt like forever. I don't know when, or if, Sirius blacked out." Logan explained.

"Kept saying your name though." He looked up at Remus.

Remus's hazel eyes filled with tears and he let out a sob into his elbow.

"Sorry."

"No, no it's okay." Remus sniffled back the tears. "Just, uh, just worried. You know?"

"He'll be alright." Logan told him before smiling. "We just have to come up with some new nickname for him now that he doesn't have a spleen or an immune system."

"Spleenless."

"Captain of the sick ship."

"Sniffles"

"Captain Spleen."

"No mo munie."

They all threw around names.

"He's gonna be more upset about the fact that he won't be able to hide when he's sick than he'll be about the missing organ." James laughed.

"Probably." Remus nodded.

Their laughs were cut off by a knock on the door. "Remus Lupin?" Sirius's doctor, Dr. Gemma, walked in.

"Yeah. What's going on? Is he alright?"

"He's out of surgery and awake." She told them with a kind smile.

"So he's okay?"

"He is showing signs of very, very slight amnesia. Just not remembering the accident at all which is completely understandable and no cause for concern."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course." She nodded.

Remus followed after her with whispers to update them on how he is.

+++

"I do have to warn you about the possible side effects he could start to show or is already showing." Dr. Gemma said as they walked down the long hallways.

"Like what?"

"As I said he does have slight amnesia. He seems to either be having hearing problems or is having a hard time understanding speech. Possibly both. He might also be having difficulty thinking. There is other symptoms that he hasn't shown yet but might in the future, headaches, seizure, nausea, vomiting, fever, and more. If any of these happen or anything concerning, page us immediately."

They finally turned down the hallway that seemed to be his.

"I'll let you two be, and again, page us immediatly if anything happens or if you need anything. Okay?" They stopped outside his door.

"Okay, thank you."

"No need for thanks." She smiled. "Now go see him. You were the first thing he asked about when he woke up."

Remus smiled at that and pushed the door open. He tried hard not to react to all the wires surrounding him but it was hard not too. All he could do to try was hurry over to his lovers side.

"Hi, baby." He smiled through tears as his hazel eyes saw grey. "Hi" He gripped his hand tightly.

"Re" Sirius said slowly.

"Yeah. yeah. It's me, baby. I'm right here. You're okay. You're okay." He kissed his forehead to hide the tears.

"Don't- cry- mon loup." It took him a while to say.

"Sorry. You just scared me for a little while." Remus smiled at him. "Are you feeling okay?"

Sirius gave him a confused look.

"What? What's wrong? Are you okay? What do you need?" Remus rambled in concern.

"Shh" Sirius set a hand on Remus's. "Okay" He talked about himself. "Just, too many."

"Too many what, love?"

"Words. Can't know. Don't think." He was begining to get frustrated.

"It's okay." Remus said slower. "I know. It's okay."

Sirius nodded and relaxed against the pillows.

"Said Logan- with- hurt?" the words were chopped and Remus could see the frustration in his eyes.

"Logan was in the car." Remus nodded. "But he's okay. The team is with him."

"Team?" Sirius furrowed his eyebrows and blinked in confusion.

"Your hockey team." Remus tried to keep the panic out of his voice. "James, Dumo, Logan, Leo, Finn, Kasey, Walker, Kuny, Olli-"

"I remember." Sirius cut him off. "Just forgot."

"That's okay. The doctors said that would happen."

"See them?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"See the doctors?"

"No. Team."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. I'm sure the team will be here soo-"

As if they heard them, a group of hockey players knocked on the door and walked into the hospital room

I really don't like this part compared to part one.

Thank you @lumosinlove for letting us take your happy, lovely characters and make them be in pain

[ilguna]

Berceuse - Chapter Two

summary: you can’t protect her forever.

warnings; swearing. murder plot ?

wc; 10.1k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

 It’s a good thing that Alyssum has a high pain tolerance, otherwise she’d be doing a lot more than gritting her teeth right now. The sound of the wax ripping off her skin is enough to bring tears to her eyes, even though it’s not actually taking any hair with it. 

The prep team is trying to be gentle, Alyssum can tell by their movements. They’ll warn her ahead of time, tell her when they know it’s going to be particularly brutal. It wasn’t until an hour ago, did she realize that they must have worked on you when it was your Hunger Games.

It must also be why they have this look on their face, like they know Alyssum but are too afraid to bring it up. She already knows Elysia has watched her grow up, so it’s not really a surprise that these people have watched her too. Of course, Alyssum hasn’t been in the public eye for nine years, this is her first appearance in a while. It must be some form of whiplash, from seeing a toddler to a teenager.

At the beginning of the session, the prep team had taken enough time to introduce themselves and what they would be focusing on. Cleo, a blonde girl with artificial curls, focuses mainly on the smaller details; Alyssum’s nails, special effects, and clothing adjustments if they’re needed. She’s talkative but polite and curious.

Leo, the only boy with dark orange hair and freckles like stars across his cheeks, is her makeup artist. He’s got gentle fingers, and a contagious laugh. His accent is stronger than the other two’s, and he always tilts his head when he's done with a sentence. He’s managed to find a way to reshape her face so far.

And finally, there’s Beth. Naturally dark and  wavy hair, pretty brown eyes. She’s the quietest, doesn’t talk unless she’s genuinely interested. She does Alyssum’s hair, scrubbing her scalp and carefully washing the soap and other products from her hair.

Alyssum can see why you like them. You don’t talk about them often, only sometimes in the boarding school, and if it’s at home, it’s always regarding parade outfits. Otherwise, it’s always in passing and never in detail.

Well, at least she can finally put a face to all the names she hears so often. It’s one thing to look forward to, to see all the people that had saved her older sister before she went into the Hunger Games. The ones that gave you a bright start and all the right pointers to help you win.

“I think we should hose her down one more time.” Cleo says, her hair is pulled up and out of her face, there’s a faint glisten of sweat across her forehead.

“And we can give her the lotion.” Beth says, giving Alyssum a reassuring smile, “Then she’ll be all done.”

Alyssum smiles back.

They took their time with the finishing touches, making sure they hadn’t missed any patches of hair, ticked everything off their list, and did any special adjustments that were required during the session. Once that’s done, and they’re sure that they’re not going to need her again, they leave to get Laurel, her stylist.

Alyssum vaguely remembers meeting Laurel, and it wasn’t during your Victory Tour when you’d won. No, she was too young to actually realize that she should be taking in her surroundings to hold to her memory. Instead, Alyssum remembers meeting Laurel during Annie’s Victory Tour, when she came to visit during the winter, at the very beginning. 

She can’t seem to recall much, besides the obvious fact that Laurel was much, much taller than she was at the time. Alyssum had only been eight at the time, and back then, she was only beginning her training at the boarding school. The reality of what type of world she lives in didn’t quite set in just yet.

Alyssum ties the robe shut, per Beth’s instructions. Laurel trusts them enough to not double-check their work. Not to mention, there’s not much to go over in the first place, she’s still very young.

When the door in front of her slowly starts opening, Alyssum sits up a bit taller on the medical table she’s sitting on. It reminds her of the check ups she has every month to make sure she’s growing properly. 

A tall woman with dark hair is revealed, and immediately, Alyssum knows that it’s Laurel. She can’t help herself when she gets off of the table and heads forward, arms extended for a hug. 

Laurel opens only one of her arms, but squeezes Alyssum into her side tightly, a slight laugh bubbling out, “How have you been, Aly?”

“Good, if you ignore the reaping.” She smiles, allowing Laurel to direct her out of the adjacent room and into the next one.

It has a few couches, and a coffee table in the middle of them with food displayed. 

“Still passing all of your classes?”

“Yes, of course. (Y/n) and Reed make it hard not to.”

Alyssum takes a seat on the couch, hands resting in her lap. It isn’t until Laurel motions to the food in front of her, does she realize that the food is for her, not for Laurel. It’s also at that moment, she remembers that she hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning, which had to have been hours ago.

With no argument, Alyssum takes only the food she recognizes, not feeling adventurous. The food last night on the train was delicious, there’s no question about it. The problem is that, in less than two hours, she’ll be in front of a large crowd who already knows her name, and her entire background. The last thing that Alyssum wants is to get sick all over the chariot. 

“(Y/n) requested for me to be careful with what I dress you in.” Laurel says.

“That’s probably for the best.” she pauses between bites, “Reed likes it better if I don’t show too much skin. I think it was the same way for (Y/n).”

A knowing smile crosses her stylists’ face, “Yes, that’s why we had to change her outfit. I have something that’s a little more modest for you, too.”

“He’ll like that.” Alyssum rests her plate on her knees, “What will it be?”

“A dress, we’re going for an underwater princess theme. It’ll cover your skin in the right places, all while making you look appealing to the potential sponsors in the audience.”

“Has (Y/n) seen it?”

“Yes, she’s already approved of it.” 

Alyssum lets out a hum as she nods, trying to picture it to herself. It’ll probably be blue, that’s all that District Four is known for being. A vast blue ocean with violent waves, green seaweed that traps the legs, brightly-colored coral reefs that are a sore to the eye, and endless amounts of potential outfits that come from fish, alone. 

A blue dress, something breezy because it represents the wind that comes from the ocean. Likely ripped, or maybe wet to give the illusion that she’s just come out of the water, and plenty of jewelry to secure the idea that she’s a princess. This idea has been done before, there’s no doubt about it, it’s Alyssum’s turn to represent the idea.

She finishes her plate, setting it onto the table, then gives Laurel a bright smile, “When do we start?”

A couple of hours later, Alyssum is standing in front of a mirror in the dressing room. The dress she’s wearing is lopsided, with one side being shorter than the other. The short side goes to her knees, the longer going to her ankles. It’s ripped, just as she thought it would be, and layered to make the dress bigger. The fabric is soft against her skin, almost ticklish. 

The top half of the dress is halter--no sleeves, the support is in the neck--it’s a little tighter in the middle, but the back is open to make up for it. And then they gave her white no-show socks for her, also white, dress flats. As for jewelry, so far the only important piece seems to be on her head, the pearl crown.

Of course, she has the whole matching set; the pearl earrings, the pearl necklace, and the pearl bracelet. None of it compares to the crown, or even the diamond ring that they managed to find in the drawers.

Her makeup is mild, most of it being rainbow highlights so that the sun rays catch her face the right way. Leo insisted on light blue eyeshadow, blush, and clear lip gloss, Cleo made sure Alyssum had blue nails. As for Beth, she decided on a simple halo braid, with white ribbon woven through. There’s a few loose hairs hanging in Alyssum’s face that were promptly curled once the braid was done. And as if the ribbons weren’t enough, Cleo tucked in a few white flowers.

It isn’t until she sees Paslee at the chariots, does she realize how severely overdressed she feels. So much jewelry, flowers, and makeup. Only for Paslee to look simple, with a suit and a crown on his brow. She does notice the matching flower tucked into the suit’s pocket.

Alyssum has half the mind to glare at you for allowing this to happen. She understands that the stylists’ all have a vision, and in order to stay as a stylist, they need to go above and beyond. She just thinks it’s ridiculous, and embarrassing that she looks like a walking mannequin.

Until she takes a look around her, and realizes that she’s not the only one. She’s far from being the only girl overdressed next to their male counterparts. District One is dressed in glitter, District Two is a little more naked this year, and it’s all the same for the districts to her right. 

“It looks like you’re going to get most of the attention.” Paslee says, nudging Alyssum’s arm with his elbow. He gives her a grin, trying to be polite and calm her nerves.

She doesn’t know how he’s so at ease. Everyone back home is going to see them two, everyone from the boarding school will be taking pointers on how to or not to act. It doesn’t matter if they fail or succeed, the two of them will both be examples. Their mistakes picked apart and shamed by the other victors, by the future victors.

And her brothers, and family friends, who have seen you go through this exact same situation, will be seeing all the differences and similarities. Practically experts all by themselves since they experienced it second-hand. Affected, but not directly.

Still, Alyssum manages to muster a smile to give back to Paslee, “I’ll try and save some for you.”

Paslee laughs, not minding the fact that he’s drawing attention. As soon as you and Finnick approach, dressed formally in your own ways, business begins. Laurel circles Alyssum, trying to catch any last-minute mistakes, picking at areas in the dress she realizes she doesn’t like, and tucking any fabric that needs to get out of the way.

When it comes to Pleurisy and Paslee, he just has a few curls out of place, and they fix the flower in his pocket by safely-pinning it so it doesn’t move anymore. Other than that, his shoes are still shined, and he knows better than to make any big movements in the suit, afraid that it’ll rip. 

“Okay,” you breathe, “You two already know that there are cameras, so be wary of any facial expressions.”

Alyssum nods.

“Everything will come to you naturally, so don’t worry about doing the wrong or right thing.” Finnick smiles, “Just remember that whatever you do today, will be your personality for the rest of the week.”

Paslee stands a bit taller, “What about the arena?”

“Facades don’t last very long,” you say, “Remember when I showed you my games? Or what about Johanna’s?”

It dawns on him, “Wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“Exactly.”

The anthem begins, silencing any other thoughts. The large doors slide open, allowing light to fill the hall they stand in, revealing them to the crowded streets. This is when Laurel and Pleurisy jump into action, forcing Alyssum and Paslee onto the chariot just as District One begins to move out.

“Turn inwards a bit!” You shout over the roar, hoping they hear it.

Alyssum turns her body so that she’s more towards Paslee, than the crowd. She takes in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds while she feels her heart beat in her chest. When she breathes again, she feels slightly more relaxed, trying to ignore the impending doom feeling that’s stuck in the back of her mind.

The chariot begins moving, leaving her worries behind her. There’s no time to focus on the wobbliness of her knees, or the dryness of her mouth. She tries to suppress the smile sneaking onto her face, but the moment cheers erupt into screams, she can’t help it anymore.

Alyssum is your little sister, she has a big name to live up to. She may only be twelve, but there’s a whole list of people that are expecting great things, inside and outside of the arena. Forget everyone else here, Alyssum is underneath a microscope.

She lifts her hand and waves to the crowd of people on her left, trying to make eye contact with as many people as possible. How many of them were your sponsors? Will they sponsor her? Do any of them actually like her?

Then she hears her name screamed, head whipping in the direction, eyes searching to see a woman dressed in red. The woman hurls a blue rose at Alyssum, making her jerk to the side to catch it in time. Thankfully, all thorns have been removed from the stem, otherwise there’s no doubt that she’d be bleeding.

With the flower in hand, Alyssum holds it up for the woman to see, breaks a good portion of the stem, and then tucks it into her hair. Just as she moves on, more gifts are being thrown at her. Paslee, who’s begun to notice, can’t help but to laugh with her. It’s all so ridiculous.

Alyssum opens her mouth, leaning over to talk to Paslee, when the crowd explodes behind them. She thought that they’d been loud for her, but there’s another district that seems to have captured attention.

Paslee says something, she doesn’t catch it. Her eyes flicker upwards, looking to find some sort of indication on what’s going on. Should she be panicking or upset? All she knows is that she can’t turn around to look. It’ll just take the attention away from her, and redirect it to the other district.

She sees it on a television screen above her. Her smile slowly fades, she nudges Paslee with her elbow to get his attention. He follows her gaze, and soon, he’s no longer smiling either.

District Twelve is on fire.

Both of them, the girl and the boy, are on fire. They’re dressed in neck-to-ankle black, complete with a cape. They’re so bright, it makes the career districts forgettable. Alyssum tries not to be mad, making a genuine effort to convince herself that she should be happy for District Twelve, they’ve actually become memorable for once.

She can’t keep the thought process going on for long, though. The Hunger Games is a competition, tributes are posed against each other from the start. Those sponsors that could’ve been hers, are now possibly theirs.

District One’s chariot begins to enter the City Circle, signifying that the parade is already halfway over. All that’s left is the president’s speech, and then they’ll be on their way back to the hall that they came from in the Tribute Center.

Knowing that there’s going to be more cameras, Alyssum fixes her stance so that she’s standing taller again, forcing the smile to come back to her face. She can still hear the cheering and clapping behind her, the Capitol isn’t done with getting their fill of the Twelve tributes.

Each of the twelve chariots fill the loop of the City Circle, on the buildings nearby, Alyssum can see that every window is packed. With how close they are to the president’s mansion, it just means that these people are the most expensive. They are the ones that Alyssum should be wanting to sponsor her.

Since District Four’s chariot is already stopped, and now they’re just waiting for the others to come to a halt behind them, Alyssum looks up to the windows and gives a slight wave. Nothing hurts right now, anything she doesn’t do could set her up for failure. If she does too much, then it’s the same thing. 

With the music ending flourishly, she redirects her attention to the balcony, where President Snow has stepped on to make his appearance for the speech. He gives his traditional welcome, but Alyssum’s focused on the television screen still, watching as the camera crew does their usual stop-and-go on the tributes in the chariots. She’s happy to see that she does get a few extra seconds, probably just long enough for Caesar and Claudius to comment, before moving on to the other districts.

They stay on Twelve the longest.

When the speech is finally over, the horses bring the chariots around the circle one last time for a final look, then they bring the tributes into the Tribute Center. 

The chariot barely has enough time to come to a stop before the prep teams have surrounded Alyssum and Paslee, clapping their hands and squealing out praise. Alyssum tries to kindly accept what they have to say, but her eyes are on District Twelve, wanting to see who their stylist is. Only a genius pulls something like that out of thin air, and they’re brave to do it for Twelve in the first place. 

The first thing that she notices is how she’s not the only one looking. Many, many other tributes around the girl and boy from Twelve are staring, and they’re not friendly looks either. This is enough for Alyssum to decide that she doesn’t need to hop on the train of hate, the other tributes already have that handled.

Just as she goes to turn away, her eyes catch Twelve’s girl--Katniss’--eyes. And it’s in those seconds, does Alyssum realize she’s got this whole thing backwards. Yes, the Hunger Games is a competition, which is the exact reason why she should be trying to get ahead at any possible chance. Even if there’s no guarantee it works, or that it might mess up future plans, it’s worth a try.

This is why Alyssum smiles, and waves long enough for Katniss to wave back. The two of them have got a lot of spotlight on them at the moment, only for different reasons. They could always bounce back and forth, desperate for the most shining airtime, or they could become allies and use it to their advantage.

Katniss gives Alyssum a shocked smile.

A hand is placed on Alyssum’s upper back, drawing her from the interaction she was having. When she looks over, she can see that it’s you, and you’re giving a curious look to where Alyssum was just staring.

“Ready to go?” you ask, once you don’t see anything.

“Yeah.” She beams.

Together, in a group, they all move to take an elevator up to their floor. On the way over, Paslee and Alyssum take a look at the careers while they can, since this is their preview to the training rooms. Of course, they saw them on television, but it’s nothing compared to seeing them in the flesh.

And from what Alyssum gathers in less than a minute, the most threatening district in their career group is going to be District Two. Just like she had figured yesterday, when she saw the reaping recaps. The girl is short but bulky, and the boy is average and strong. He’s been training his entire life, Alyssum knows it.

Elysia calls for the elevator, and holds the door so that everyone can go inside, with the exception of the stylists and prep teams. Elysia presses the button that will lead them to District Four’s apartment, in the meantime, Alyssum stares through the glass walls and watches as the ground gets further away from her. 

This is her first--and probably last--time in an elevator.

In the apartment, Paslee and Alyssum suddenly have free reign until dinner. Elysia shows them their rooms again, and they’re bigger than the ones on the train. Alyssum figures that she may as well shower, not really wanting to stay in her costume until dinnertime.

She hums to herself as she picks out a comfortable evening outfit, jeans and a shirt, and gently picks up the shoes to lay by the door. The shower in the Capitol is much more complicated than the one on the train. She sets everything down on the counter, and messes with the control panel on the shower until it turns on, and it’s a respectable temperature.

The makeup runs straight down the drain, easily forgettable. She doesn’t need to wash her hair again, it’s been done plenty of times today already, so she just keeps it in the braid. The most she does is take out the flowers and toss them in a nearby trash can in the bathroom. After that, she’s left to scrub dirt and sweat from her skin, thinking how it’s such a waste of time to spend hours preparing her for just one chariot ride that doesn’t even last thirty minutes.

Just as Alyssum’s finished getting dressed, Elysia is knocking on the door to let her know that dinner’s ready. She slips on the shoes that she set beside the door, and then heads out of the room.

The first thing that Alyssum notices is how the stylists are here, which means they must be joining supper. It’s perfect, actually, because Alyssum has a question about District Twelve’s stylist, not really over how they gave Katniss and her tribute mate such a big debut.

You’re sitting at the table with Finnick, Laurel and Pleurisy, the four of you being engrossed in conversation. Elysia is nowhere to be seen, presumably retrieving Paslee. Alyssum almost feels like she’s intruding on the moment, until you’re motioning her over to join.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, giving her a side hug.

She smiles slightly, shrugging, “Good? I don’t know.”

“You’re not nervous or anything?” 

Alyssum pauses long enough to realize what you’re implying. It isn’t about what she’s feeling at the moment, it’s any worries that might have come up from this morning to now. For example, the tribute parade.

“Oh, well,” Alyssum moves around the table to take an empty seat near to you, “I just wanted to know if Twelve’s stylist was new, since it’s a different approach to the district, instead of the usual coal miner stuff.”

Finnick nods, a smug look on his face when he looks at you, “I told you.”

You briefly glare, “I said I wasn’t sure because I saw her waving to the tributes, I never said you were wrong.”

“Your tone of voice did.”

“That’s--” you start.

“--not the point.” Laurel finishes smoothly, looking over Alyssum carefully, “And you’re smart for picking that up, because he is new.”

“Should we be worried about the interviews?” Paslee asks, coming down the steps with Elysia. He’s also changed into something more comfortable, taking a seat next to Alyssum.

“It’s all about personality and becoming memorable, as always.” Elysia tries.

“That’s not what I meant,” Paslee shakes his head, “I meant outfit-wise. If he pulled that out of nowhere, then what else will he be able to pull?”

If Alyssum was worried about Paslee not picking up on things earlier, she isn’t anymore. She knows that he’s older than her and all, but sometimes people skip over the small details because they don’t think it’s important. 

“We’re going to try and find a way to make you guys pop too,” Pleurisy says, “We just have to change the outfits that we had originally laid out.”

“That’s comforting.” Paslee mutters, it’s hardly audible, and it looks like the others didn’t pick it up, with the exception of Alyssum.

It’s silent in the room for a long moment, allowing the tension to settle in further. Alyssum knows that all the outfits are supposed to be the stylists idea, which is the exact reason why they have so many outfits planned for the future. In a situation like this, though, planning ahead does nothing but screw you over.

Well, Pleurisy did just say they have to change the original outfits, anyway. It doesn’t hurt to try and throw out some ideas.

“What if the outfits changed pictures?” Alyssum asks Laurel.

She sits up taller, “What do you mean?”

“Um… well, like an optical illusion but if I moved my body, the scenery on the dress would change to something else because of how I was standing.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, Alyssum begins to doubt the idea, maybe it wasn’t smart after all.

“Oh,” Elysia says, “Oh, I get it, like those Valentines cards that kids hand out in school.”

Laurel shifts her attention to her, “Is that what she means?”

“People hand out cards?” Paslee asks.

“It must be a Capitol thing.” Finnick tells him.

The light goes off in Pleurisy’s head too, “Lenticular! It’s called lenticular, I was just talking to Esmeray about it.”

“Do you think it’s possible to pull off?” Laurel asks, “Besides the materials, I think we could order it all tonight.”

Pleurisy is nodding quickly, “Yes, we just need to figure out the pictures--”

Paslee pats Alyssum on the back, “Quick thinking.”

Alyssum smiles, “Thank me later.”

Dinner kicks off after that, the Avoxes serving the meals one at a time. It’s just like how it was on the train, starting lightly with savory soups, and slowly moving into more of the heavier, more filling, foods. About halfway through, Alyssum decides that she’s full and would like to give her stomach time to settle before continuing.

The conversation keeps on the interview outfits for a while, Laurel and Pleurisy allow everyone to chime in and ask questions. Every now and then, they’ll actually ask for input on what the dress should look like. Like base color, where the pictures should go, what the top half of the dress should look like--it’s already decided that it should be puffed out and end above her knees.

Or with Paslee, what type of suit, if the pants should be the same material or just a plain base color. If his pictures should resemble something different or similar to Alyssum. It even goes down to the question of whether or not Alyssum and Paslee should match during the interviews, it’s common but not exactly liked by tributes.

For now, the two of them agree to it, because they haven’t found a need to say no just yet. Maybe later on, if the two of them have suddenly lost interest in an alliance and found two different groups to stick with. Alyssum has a feeling that Paslee is going to naturally drift towards the careers, which isn’t a horrible idea for him. He’s seventeen, built like the rest of them. Alyssum is still small, she’s twelve, and she’d be the youngest out of all of them.

Then again, there’s no one else to really form an alliance with. Of course, there’s always the other twelve year-old girl from Eleven, or the occasional other young tributes from the less popular distracts. That’s a whole problem by itself, though, because they’re typically not prepared for the Hunger Games, and therefore become a danger the more that time goes on.

And Alyssum can’t forget about her interaction with Katniss just a few hours ago. She’s an older sister, Alyssum saw her volunteer over the younger girl. Alyssum knows it could mean a number of things, like Katniss just wanting to protect her. But out of all the Hunger Games that Alyssum has watched, she’s never seen an older sibling volunteer over the younger one, because either way it’s a death sentence. Both of them will die.

No one is driven to volunteer that quickly just because they want to protect their younger siblings. There’s always a part of them that knows that they can win the Hunger Games. And for that exact reason alone, makes Alyssum think that Katniss can be a good ally. It’s just a matter of getting close enough to see what she knows.

Also, if Katniss does end up showing promise before the Hunger Games, the last thing that Alyssum would want is to be an enemy of some kind. Even a little bit of friendship between two tributes can go a long way. She’s seen it happen before, and it typically pays off in the end. Even if that means to sacrifice certain alliances.

After dinner, the Avoxes bring around a tall cake, painted a light shade of green. When they cut it open, candy pearls spill out the middle, clattering against the glass plate. They dish out a healthy serving for everyone to have, but with how rich the cake is, Alyssum can’t get through half of it before feeling full.

Once they’re all done at the table, they move on to watch the recap of the tribute parade. Honestly, Alyssum doesn’t like having to watch it over, it just means she gets to see the Capitol freak out over Twelve again. She’s tired of talking about them, at least until tomorrow.

The good news is that Alyssum and Paslee had been the center of attention until they had come out. If there’s anything to build off of, it would be that. But she already figured that was the case.

“It’s been a big day,” you start, looking over to Paslee and Alyssum, “I’m sure you two are exhausted.” You reach over, tucking one of the loose hanging hairs out of Alyssum’s face and behind her ear. There’s a gentle smile on your lips, “Finnick and I damn near passed out after our parade.”

Finnick places his hand on your upper back, a smile beginning on his own face, “We skipped dinner entirely.”

“Rest.” your attention diverts to Paslee, “Meet us here tomorrow morning so we can help you with the training session. The first day always means the most, the two days that follow are just as important. We’ll be here if you have any questions.”

“I’ll wake you in the morning if you don’t get up yourself.” Elysia pipes, sitting up straight.

It’s clear that they’re queueing them to go, so Alyssum doesn’t argue. She looks at Laurel, “Thank you for the tribute parade. And if you see the others, can you thank them too? I appreciate them being gentle.” she turns to you and Finnick, “Goodnight, love you.”

“Love you too.” you say, Finnick’s voice echoes yours.

Just like that, Alyssum heads up the steps, leaving Paslee to say his own goodnight. She doesn’t go into her room immediately, though. She stands in the hallway, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans while she waits for him to catch up. When he does, he notices her and stands on the other side of the hall to make it look like he’s gone to his room.

“Do you want to try out the career group?” She asks.

“What else do you have in mind?” Paslee asks back.

Alyssum tilts her head slightly, eyes drifting from his face when she hears you and the others start speaking to each other again, “Katniss and her friend have made a pretty good impression.”

“They’re from Twelve,” he says, tone disinterested. 

“(Y/n) and Finnick were fifteen and fourteen when they won together, an occurrence that the Capitol hadn’t allowed in like--thirty years!” she brings her hands out to motion, “I’m not talking about odds here, because they’ve always been wonky with my family. I’m saying we pool sponsors together if they end up showing some promise.”

Paslee doesn’t look convinced, his face twists and he’s shaking his head still. Alyssum’s only heard stories about what happened between you and Finnick during your time in the Capitol. There’s one story you tell to all the newcomers of the boarding school to give them an idea of what it’s really like. And the big lesson that normally derives from it, is that alliances don’t last.

You and Finnick had been allies until the two of you split, you to the careers and him to a group of lesser known tributes. In a way, it worked out in the end because the two of you did end up back together. The only problem is that’s not always the case. 

While Alyssum was watching the tribute parade, she noticed something very specific, and it’s that out of all of the districts, only two of them were friendly to each other. And she means that she and Paslee had looked at each other, and Katniss and her friend were holding hands. Out of the other ten districts, neither of the tributes even bothered to acknowledge each other.

Alyssum may not be perfect, but she’s not stupid enough to ignore the facts. She knows that it’s not often that tributes are going to like each other, especially coming from the same district. So, why not try and create an alliance that’ll actually work? Not even Districts One and Two were talking to each other. 

“Okay, well, you don’t have to like the idea,” Alyssum gives him a funny smile, “It’s just there in case it’s the better option.”

“I don’t…” Paslee trails off.

She’s backing away toward her room, eyebrows raised, “You don’t what?”

He doesn’t answer her, she goes into her room. You’ve said it many times inside of the boarding school, that only the tributes that have been drawn to go into the games can assign their fate. No one else can make these decisions for her, and dwelling on just one person can very well ruin her plan.

She gets ready for bed, changing into a pair of shorts and a shirt before curling into bed. The bed is soft and comfortable, the room cold enough to enjoy, and the blankets keeping her warm, she falls asleep in no time. Even though there are nightmares waiting in the days coming.

--

Elysia’s insistent knocking wakes Alyssum, she stands in the doorway, waiting patiently until Alyssum can finally comprehend what she’s saying, “First day of training, you’re not going to want to skip breakfast.”

Alyssum yawns, using the heels of her hands to rub her eyes.

“All uniforms are pre-picked by the stylists, yours should be in the closet.”

When she lifts her head, she sees a blurry image of Elysia standing at the door, one hand resting on the frame, the other on her hip. Alyssum has to  blink a few times in order to see better.

“Okay, thank you.” 

Elysia nods her head once, and then whirls around to leave. The door slides shut automatically, and Alyssum is left to get ready by herself. She silently makes her way around the room, throwing any blankets that might have ended up on the floor, back onto the bed.

The closet is still unnecessarily big, so it takes her a moment to scan the shelves to see which clothes Laurel had laid out for her. There’s a sports bra, a tank top and leggings all folded together on the shelf. She picks it all up, and grabs any extra items she’s going to need while getting ready. 

She spends a good minute staring at the window that takes up the entire wall, not liking the idea of the people below seeing her sleeping--and changing. She groans and heads into the bathroom instead, changing into the training outfit. It’s white in most areas, the accent color being black. Her leggings are entirely black, and the shoes are a repeat of the shirt.

Alyssum takes her time trying to brush her hair, knowing that there’s going to be snarls. The blow dryers that the shower comes with were extremely good at getting it all out last night. Today, it’s Alyssum’s problem. And she ends up tying it out of her face, anyway, not wanting to be bothered by it all day. 

It isn’t until she’s finished getting ready, does she realize that she’s missing something very important. She stands in the bathroom, staring at herself for a long time, going over each body part individually, thinking that she’ll catch it that way. She’s right, her eyes stop on her neck.

The necklace isn’t there.

Alyssum straightens up, the sleep completely leaving her body. Did she leave it on the train last night? You even went out of your way last night to ask to make sure she wouldn’t, and here she is. Then again, it could have happened this morning when the prep team had jumped at her for the grooming.

Did she even have it this morning?

Alyssum leaves her bedroom, going into the dining room. You’re already sitting out there with Finnick and Elysia, Paslee nowhere to be seen. He’s probably still getting ready, or searching for his training outfit, since it wasn’t in any obvious spot like Alyssum thought it would be.

“Good morning,” You hum, giving a smile to Alyssum, “How’d you sleep?”

Alyssum shrugs, “Pretty good, actually.” She takes her seat at the table, “Did you take my necklace off the train?”

Your smile widens into a grin, and Alyssum immediately knows that it’s the case, “Yes, and I already gave it to Elysia. The Gamemakers will have a look at it, and if it’s approved, Laurel will give it to you before you go back into the arena.”

“Okay,” she falls back against her chair, relieved that she’s not going to be in charge of it for the next couple of days.

“What about you?” Finnick asks Paslee, “Any tokens?”

Paslee nods a little, bringing up his wrist to show off a silver bracelet, “It belonged to Marsh. He forgot to take it into the arena with him.”

Finnick hold his hand out to take it, “Does it have any poison, knives, needles, anything that might get you in trouble?”

“No, it’s just this chain.” he drops it into Finnick’s palm.

“It should pass inspection, then.” Elysia takes it from Finnick, placing it into a pocket on the inside of her jacket. 

Breakfast is then served by the Avoxes, taking away the chance to continue the conversation any further. Alyssum eats the assorted dishes, being careful to avoid foods she knows that she doesn’t like, and anything that might make her feel sick inside of the training room. Not to mention, she will be able to eat lunch in a few hours.

You and Finnick finish much faster than they do, and don’t wait for them to finish eating before Finnick begins, “You have to remember that the Hunger Games is a competition. Save your best skill for the private session with the Gamemakers, that happens in two days.”

“Your goal is to impress the Gamemakers, not the tributes around you. Everything you do inside of the gym from today to the private session will be observed and noted. You are careers, they’re expecting great things from you. And there’s no use in saying ‘no pressure’ because the pressure is on.”

Alyssum’s nodding along, so is Paslee. They understand, the two of them have spent years in the boarding school for this reason. They have trained for years, and in doing that, have found the skills that they’re good at, and honed the ones that weren’t as good, they’re prepared. Especially Paslee more than Alyssum.

“Don’t force an alliance with the careers.” you say suddenly, eyes on Alyssum, “I’m talking to you, Aly.”

“I know you are.”

“The careers don’t like tributes younger than them because the younglings are hard to control and sometimes unpredictable. I’m not saying you are, but the more you force them, the more they’re going to deny.”

“Actually, now that you say that,” Finnick looks at you, “Maybe she shouldn’t try at all.”

Alyssum sits up in her chair now, mouth falling open. She wants to object, because that’s not fair at all.

“If she’s good in the training center and scores high, the careers will target her and take her down because they know that she’s weak to some capacity. I mean, look at her and tell me you wouldn’t be able to take her down in a fight.” Finnick explains.

“Well, of course I can.”

“No, I mean look at her from a tribute perspective…” he looks back at Alyssum, the room is silent for a while.

And then you blow air out of your cheeks, “The Twelve tributes we went against.”

“Exactly.” Finnick says, happy that you’ve figured out what he was thinking about, “We were young then too.”

You hum, “She still needs sponsors.”

Elysia clears her throat, “How about you try at eighty percent and not one hundred?”

“Yes, don’t make an actual effort to be noticed.” Finnick agrees.

Alyssum nods slowly, her mouth has since closed. She’s still not exactly thrilled by the idea of hanging back, because it could cost her the training score, but then she remembers that if it doesn’t work out with the careers, she has a backup plan.

“Okay.” Alyssum smiles, “Easy peasy.”

Elysia checks her watch, “We have fifteen minutes before we have to leave. Meet me at the elevator by ten.”

She stands from the table, gives a pointed look to Alyssum and Paslee, and then leaves to the back room. You and Finnick also take this as a sign to get up, knwoing how much work has to be done before the games. And the interview outfits!

“We’ll be here when you get back.” You smile, “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” Alyssum says, heading back to her room. 

She brushes her teeth first, making sure that her mouth hurts by how much toothpaste she uses. After, she searches the drawers for some type of body mist that she can put on, on top of the deodorant and everything else she applied before breakfast. She doesn’t want to smell horrible by the end of the day, so she’ll do anything possible to prevent it.

She spends her remaining time trying to find tomorrow’s outfit so that she doesn’t have to search. She places it in the same spot where she found today’s clothes, and hopes that no one will come around later to move it. By the time she’s done reorganizing the closet to her liking, it’s time for her to go.

Elysia is waiting at the elevator, just as she promised she would be. It’s a minute or so later before Paslee is joining them. She presses the button, the doors shut, and the only noise that fills the silence is the sound of the elevator going down. And right when Alyssum is prepared for it to stop at the base floor, it continues.

“The gymnasium is underground.” Elysia says, as if she’s reading their minds. When the doors open again, she starts off first, “I can’t go inside of the room with you, I’ll walk you as far as possible.”

And she does, taking them halfway through the hallway before she decides that they need to show some independence. If the other tributes see her in the doorway, then it’ll be obvious that they had her walk them up. Besides, it’s not really much of a problem, they can see the door now.

“Thank you!” Alyssum shouts, waving goodbye to Elysia before they both head inside.

The doors open automatically, allowing them to get their first look at the room they’ll be training in for the next three days. Alyssum can’t help but to look at each individual station, noting what they are and which ones she’d like to visit before the day is over.

They aren’t the last to arrive, and they aren’t the first either. That’s the good news, because punctuality is important, just not enough to be the first people inside. As long as they come inside some time during the middle, then they won’t be remembered. Even though the other tributes are looking at them now. She wonders what’s on their minds.

Paslee and Alyssum are stopped a little after the doors, being told that they need to wear a mandatory number. They don’t specify why, but it doesn’t take a genius to  realize that it’s because the gamemakers need a way to keep track of them. There’s going to be twenty-four tributes inside, she’s almost certain that the gamemakers just think of them all as a blur by now. So many faces, only one of them will survive.

Once the patch is placed on their backs, it’s time for them to pick a place to stand. Her eyes wander, dancing over the different Capitol personnel, glancing briefly at the gamemakers in the box above, and the tributes standing in a circle. Alyssum laces her fingers together, trying to keep level breathing.

These are her opponents. No one here right now is a friend. 

She doesn’t even see District Twelve.

The only thing that matters is that the other careers are here, standing together in a group. They’ve already formed their alliance, and they seem pretty friendly for the most part. At first, they pay Alyssum and Paslee no attention, continuing their conversation, filling the air with their laughter.

It isn’t until the blonde girl from One glances, and does a double-take, do the rest of them follow.

“Smile.” Alyssum murmurs, trying to be quiet as she looks away, “If they smile back, then join them. I’ll see you later, grab me if they’re interested.”

“Good luck.” Paslee says.

“Same to you.”

She moves away from the careers, choosing to stand in the back so she isn’t up front near the Capitol trainer. Her mind begins to run, starting slowly and speeding up the more time goes on. Is this the same head trainer that you had nine years ago? What about the people standing at the stations? Or the Gamemakers?

It takes everything in her not to hyperventilate, taking deep breaths through her nose. She’s walking in your shadow, everything she does will be compared to what you had done. Reaping, tribute parade, training score, interview outfits, first day debuts in the arena. It’s beginning to make her sick to her stomach. She shouldn’t have eaten so much this morning.

Thankfully, it’s only a couple more minutes before more tributes begin to trickle in. When District Twelve finally shows up and joins the circle, the head trainer is allowed to begin. Alyssum moves forward to see her, now.

Her name is Atala, she’s tall and clearly athletic. She says that each tribute is free to move station to station as they will, but the experts standing at each station aren’t allowed to move. Tributes are also not allowed to fight each other, which is why combat experts are provided if requested. It’s preferred that all items stay in their respective boundaries, but it’s not enforced.

Once the formalities are over, Atala begins going down a list of the stations available. Starting with survival, and moving on to combat. Alyssum can hardly note the names long enough to remember them. By the time Atala’s going down the combat list, Aly’s decided that she’ll just try and go to each station at least once.

Finally, Atala releases them, allowing everyone to move. Alyssum doesn’t move from her spot so that she can see exactly where everyone goes. The Careers, and Paslee, unsurprisingly head towards the weapons. She turns her body away from that direction, although she knows that she’ll have to go over there eventually.

It just leaves all the survival skills, like fire starting. 

She knows all of this already, the most she can do is a basic overview of it all. Ten minutes, at the very least, should be enough to refresh her memory. And hopefully the experts can give her new and improved ways of doing things. District Four’s boarding school is very good, you and every other victor have made sure of that. Sometimes the Capitol can pull tricks out of their asses.

So, Alyssum starts with the fires. The expert is clearly delighted, letting her sit around the ring of rocks before beginning. When they ask if Aly has any previous experience with starting fires, or any clue on how to, it’s an easy answer. She lists off three different ways, and demonstrates all three, before moving on to different ideas.

Since she clearly doesn’t need help, the expert settles for small talk. It’s polite, but they dance around questions, obviously wanting to ask them but are too afraid to go through with it. Alyssum gives up some information willingly, she just keeps the personal stuff to herself.

Once she finally grows bored, she bids the expert goodbye, moving on to the next lucky expert that gets to watch her do their job for them. It’s just as she expected, she knows all of these stations already. The most she can do is refresh her memory every couple of minutes.

Until she gives up the rotation entirely and just stands in the middle of the room, hands on her hips while she tries to make her next decision. All of her logic has secured itself on the idea of the weapons, since she hasn’t had full training with them yet. Even in the boarding school, she was only allowed to dabble in it. It was next year, and the year to follow, where she was supposed to fully begin to understand it all.

The problem is that’s where the careers are, where Paslee is. She doesn’t want to just go over there and make it seem like she wants their attention. If anything, she wants to get some practice of her own. All they do is hoard that area and intimidate anyone who thinks of going over, it’s unfair. And they’re supposed to do that all three days.

The only other option she’s seeing is actually settling on the survival stuff, but it’s pretty clear she doesn’t need to.

She takes in a deep breath, staring at the ceiling for a moment, and then begins to make her way on the far side away from the careers. Which starts her at axe practice, a top-heavy weapon that she doesn’t see herself willingly using inside of the arena. She’s not strong enough to lug a weapon like that around the entire time, something smaller--a knife--would be much easier.

The expert straightens when they see her approach, and are more than happy to begin her on basics. Immediately, Alyssum can see her mood uplift as she begins to learn new techniques, thinking that this is what she should have been doing the entire time. She spends a whole hour just testing out different sizes, and swinging them to get a feel for it.

By the time lunch rolls around, she’s learned how to wield an axe, carry heavier weapons, and only touched her toe to the water when it came to the spears. She knows how to throw spears, it’s the one skill that the victors teach at the boarding school for the younger kids, besides the knives. The smaller the items, the easier it is to work. That’s the rule.

It’s pretty obvious right off the bat that Paslee is stuck with the careers now, so she isn’t surprised when he sits with them and completely ignores her. Not a single glance has been offered her way this entire day. If he’s trying to play up an act, he’s doing a good job of it. She’s just hoping that he isn’t trying to shut her out already. She thought that he’d at least give her a chance to join the career pack.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. Alyssum gathers up a small plate of food that looks good before taking a seat at an empty table. She watches as the other tributes come into the adjacent lunch room, peeling apart her bread rolls and wondering if any of them are actually brave enough to sit with her. Not because she’s intimidating, or the sister of a victor, but because tributes don’t normally intermix--unless you’re a career.

She almost thinks that’s the case, until Katniss and her tribute counterpart are sitting at the end of her table. She shares a smile with the boy, dipping her spoon into the stew. Alliances are so delicate during the first few beginning days of the week in the Capitol, so it’s hard for her to force herself to speak to them.

“Your parade costumes were amazing,” she says, watching as Katniss looks over suddenly, eyes going over Alyssum. There’s no doubt that she’s sizing Alyssum up in some way, maybe figuring out her lifespan in the games will be. She wouldn’t be the first, and she’s not going to be the last, “I would’ve changed my mind last minute.”

The boy chuckles, “Trust me, I did.”

Katniss gives him a look, and then gives a sheepish smile, “Yeah, me too.”

Alyssum sits a bit taller, “I’m Alyssum.”

“Peeta,” the boy extends his hand, Aly moves to take it, shaking it once, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Katniss.” she holds out her hand too, but it’s not as smooth.

Alyssum’s a lot more gentle, and she ends up turning over Katniss’ hands to take a look at her nails, curious to see what her prep team had done to them. It’s just as she expected, fiery nails, flames of red and orange on a black background.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Peeta.” Alyssum let’s go of Katniss’ hand, moving back to her bowl of soup.

Conversation is light with the two of them, it gets a little awkward at times, but Peeta always manages to find a new topic to start with. No matter what, neither of them ask about you, which she’s a little surprised about. Everyone has been talking about the sister situation, so she’s sure it’s only a matter of time before the tributes are dragged in too.

As soon as lunch is over, Alyssum is the first to say goodbye to Katniss and Peeta, explaining that she wants the weapons that the careers were standing by before lunch. They understand, and she manages to take over the sword station, since the careers were dragging their feet.

She finds out early on that she’s not too shabby with a sword. She just needs a lot of practice, which she has more than enough time to do. The expert is polite, and doesn’t hide the fact that they’re surprised over her missing knowledge. Yes, she’s been excelling at survival skills, there’s no doubt that word has traveled, but it doesn’t mean she’ll be good at combat.

Either way, it’s clear that the careers grow impatient over her learning, and don’t give her anymore space. They move back in as soon as they’re ready to, making her a lot more stiff when it comes to swinging the sword. They’re so close, and she can hear their conversation, which is making her even more uncomfortable. Especially since they’re making bets on who’s going to run to the cornucopia, and making hypothetical kills with said tributes.

It all goes downhill once her name is mentioned.

Alyssum stops, sweat running down her temples as she looks over to the group. The girl from Two, the fifteen year-old who volunteered, is looking right at her with a dangerous smirk. The boy with her is also giving the same look.

Paslee glances over his shoulder. Alyssum slams the sword tip-down into the ground, knuckles turning pale from how hard she grips the other end.

“She’s only twelve, she’ll be dumb enough to run into the cornucopia,” the Two girl repeats, “And she’ll be the first I kill.”

Alyssum straightens, “Who says you’ll even be able to get your beefy hands on me?” her eyes wander down, face twisting, “Or that you’ll run fast enough.”

Two girl squints her eyes, starting forward. Alyssum keeps her stance, raising her chin a little when the girl comes close. Two girl is taller than she is, and she’s a lot bigger too. Alyssum knows exactly what you’d say to her right now, and it’s that she’s picking a fight she can’t win, one that’ll bite her in the ass later on.

However, Alyssum is part of the Gallows family, and she’ll dig her own grave if it means to defend the name.

“Say it again.”

“You heard me the first time.” Alyssum snaps, hand tightening around the sword, “If you can’t take the heat, don’t play with fire.”

The girl goes to open her mouth, but she’s stopped when Atala appears, clearly here to mediate.

“What’s going on?”

“Friendly banter.” Alyssum smiles, and then looks at Two girl, eyebrows raised, “She was just telling me how she’s going to kill me during the bloodbath. And I was just about to tell her that I’ll kill her in her sleep just like how my older sister killed Allio during her Hunger Games.”

Two girl jerks, Atala steps in-between before there’s an actual conflict. Alyssum dumps her sword in the bin by the station.

“That’s enough, stay away from each other.” Atala warns.

“If you’re going to get territorial again in the future,” Aly starts, beginning to move toward the door, going to leave early, “you might as well piss on the floor, bitch.”

Two jerks again, it takes two experts to hold her back this time. Alyssum doesn’t turn around after she leaves. It isn’t until she steps into the hallway, does she realize how jittery she is. The amount of adrenaline that must have been going through her body… for a second she had herself convinced that she was going to swing the sword. And she would have, if it had gotten any uglier.

She punches the elevator button, shaking her hands while she waits. She needs to tell you and Finnick before Paslee does, just so he doesn’t get the details fucked up. He might try to cut corners to save the relationship between you two and him, since being on good terms with mentors is an important factor. 

The elevator ride is short, and so is the walk to the apartment. By the time she gets inside, she feels considerably better, no longer as shaky, and her body has lost the heat factor. When she walks inside, she’s able to see that Finnick and Elysia are standing together, talking.

Their conversation falters when they both see Alyssum. 

Elysia immediately checks her watch, confused, “You aren’t supposed to be back for another hour and a half.”

All it takes is Finnick looking over her once to realize that something isn’t right, “What happened?”

“Got in a fight with one of the careers, and Paslee didn’t do anything to prevent it.”

Elysia’s eyes widen, hurrying over, “Did they touch you? How much trouble are you in?”

“Atala stopped it before we got physical, but I said something after she told us to stop so…”

“Tell me the entire story.” Finnick says.

Alyssum does, trying to be as transparent as possible, but it gets difficult at the end, especially when she starts telling Finnick about the conversation the careers were having right before. He slowly starts getting more angry, Elysia is more stressed than anything. It isn’t until the story is over, does Alyssum get the idea that the situation is worse than she thought it was.

“Well,” Finnick sighs, looking up to the ceiling, “You definitely left an impression.”

“Not the one you wanted me to, though.” Aly frowns, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, placing his hands on the back of his neck, “You have nothing to be sorry for, I’m hoping the Gamemakers at least watched. That might do some good for your score.”

“Where’s (Y/n)?” Alyssum asks.

“Sleeping, but I guess we should wake her up.” Finnick bites the inside of his cheek.

“I’ll stay out here in case Paslee shows up.” Elysia says, “Make sure he doesn’t go far.”

“Thanks,” Finnick nods, and then jerks his head for Alyssum to follow him, “Do you have an alliance, at least?”

“I sat with Katniss and Peeta during lunch, they’re pretty nice. Didn’t talk to them much.”

“That’s good, try not to make any more enemies, okay?”

Alyssum gives him a funny smile, “No promises.”

--

BERCEUSE IS A SPIN-OFF //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@amixedwitch / @justthatfangirloverthere / @fnnshelbys / @neenieweenie / @vxntae / @itsanantonia / @liaaacantwrite / @terezasworld /

[celest1all]

unfriendly (ii)

pairing; spencer reid x fem!reader

warning(s); angsty-ish, badly written ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, im not really sure what else.

authors note; here’s part two!!! there will not be a part three so please don't ask, thank you. also I started this at one a.m and its not four a.m so please don't yell at me if its poorly written :(

read part one

masterlist

everyone who wanted to be tagged for part two: @mggpleasedontlookhere @loki-an-idiot (there were some others but it wouldn’t let me tag, im sorry)

Everything was crumbling down around you and you had no idea how to stop it. The sound of Spencer’s voice plagued your mind so much that you had to take a ‘sick day’. It wasn’t just the sound, it was everything. What he said; “I don't want to be in a relationship with someone who just plain fucking rude” echoed night and day, the look of pure disgust he had on his face and how he walked off like he didn’t give a damn re-ran itself over and over again on repeat in your mind. It was exhausting. It was painful. It was breaking you. 

Thankfully, Hotch didn’t think anything of it when you had called in asking for a day to recover from your ‘food poisoning’ so he let you have the one day off. That’s why you were currently curled up on your sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around you whilst watching whatever was on, not having the energy (or the willpower) to change the channel.

You had texted Penelope earlier to say that you wouldn't be coming in today due to the fact that she was the only one who knew of yours and Spencer’s fight -- if you could call it a fight, it was more him yelling at you and leaving you sobbing in the hallway. You didn't choose to tell Garcia, she only knew because she stumbled upon you with you knees clutched to your chest, crying your heart out. But you were glad that she was the one to find you since she was your closest friend after Spencer.

Spencer. Oh how you missed him. Some would call you mad for missing the person who was the cause of you breaking down in a hallway of the FBI, but how could you not miss the one person who you loved most in this world? How could you not long be in the embrace of someone who made you feel whole, feel safe? 

You hated yourself for how utterly head over heels you were for someone who quite literally didn’t want to be seen with you. He had made that very clear when he took one look at you the day after it happened and scuttled away. 

You presumed that Spencer had told Ashley what had transpired between the two of you since she kept looking at you weirdly, but then again, it didn’t take a profiler (or whatever she was) to notice something had happened. 

Before the incident -- that’s what you were calling it now since it pained you too much to call it anything else -- you and Reid were attached at the hip, giving breakfast to each other and making the other coffee. Now? You wouldn't have been caught dead near one another.

When there was a case and you were being briefed at the roundtable, he would sit on the chair furthest away from you which was ultimately quite difficult since it was a round table. On the jet he would make sure was sat next to Ashley and once again, furthest away from you. Well, it was you who sat the furthest away this time. You knew that Reid was more liked on the team than you and you had come to terms with that ages ago so no one really noticed when you sat by yourself, distancing yourself from everyone. And you weren't about to tell them, you didn't want to ruin Spencer’s relationships with the team -- thats if they took your side, of course. 

A knock at your apartment door pulled you away from your pit of despair that was your mind. You thought for a second whether or not you should answer the damn thing, but when whoever was behind it knocked again, you reluctantly got up.

Apparently, the visitor was also impatient since they gave the door another two raps, “Alright, I’m coming. Jeez.” You muttered, not entirely sure if it was loud enough for them to hear you.

You slowly made your way to the entrance of your apartment, rubbing your eyes slightly. When you opened the door, you could tell immediately who it was even if you were still looking at the floor. How could you know who it was? Well, you didn’t really know anyone else who wore converse with odd socks on.

You widened your eyes before looking up, “Hi.” You didn’t really know what else to say. Hey Spence, how are you? Oh how’s your relationship with Seaver going? Yeah those didn’t really seem like viable options. 

“Hey...” He sighed, his head cocked to the side slightly.

You looked around the corridor outside your apartment briefly before returning to face him, “What are you doing here?” 

Spencer swallowed before raking his hands through his hair. “I was hoping we could talk.”

You scoffed at his words, “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“If I remember correctly, last time we ‘talked’ you insulted me and then left me crying in a hallway.” You stated plainly, crossing your arms over your chest. You saw Reid wince slightly but you didn’t really care. 

You rolled your eyes when Spencer didn’t reply but you still moved out of the way to let him inside. Old habits die hard apparently. He had a look of surprise on his face when he saw you move, but he walked inside nonetheless.

You shut the door behind him and sighed, “Why are you here, Reid?” 

Reid. He was expecting it, didn't make it hurt any less though. He looked round your apartment briefly, almost acting like he had never seen it before (which he has, multiple times).

He swivelled on his heel and turned to face you, his and gripping his strap of his satchel whilst he worried the bottom of his lip between his teeth. “I’m here to apologise.” 

You inhaled sharply, not really expecting him to say that. You weren’t entirely sure why he came to your apartment, to yell at you more, maybe? But to apologise was not on your list of reasons. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He repeated, frowning slightly.

“Yes okay.” You sent him a pointed lip, arms still crossed firmly over your chest. “As in start apologising.” Spencer nodded and mumbled a ‘right’ before he sat down on the sofa where you were previously cooped up.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” He started, fiddling with his hands that were in his lap. “I shouldn’t have said or done any of the things I did that day. I shouldn't have made cornered you and mocked you for being jealous. I shouldn’t have insulted you, called those things, and said that I didn’t want to be in a relationship when that is just a blatant lie. I never, never, should’ve left you in that hallway sobbing whilst I went off with Ashley.” He looked up at you and could see you visibly flinch at the sound of her name and he couldn’t blame you.”I could hear it from the bullpen, and I couldn’t stop hearing it. I’m so sorry for everything, y/n. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You stared into Spencer’s eyes, a smirk breaking out onto your face. “Okay, so correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just say that when you told me you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, was a lie?”

Reid narrowed his eyes ever so slightly whilst nodding, not entirely sure what you were getting at. “So why the fuck did you put me through hell?” Now it was his turn to flinch. Your sudden change in tone and the way you flung your arms about took him by surprise. “Do you have any idea how bad that hurt me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to hear the one person you love most in this world say that they could never be in a relationship with you? I had to take a fucking sick day just so I didn't have to see you or Seaver!”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes before continuing, “I’m going to forgive you.” 

Spencer could swear that he was about to get whiplash by how quick your moods were changing. “What?”

“I’m going to forgive you.” You repeated. “I’m forgiving you, this is me forgiving you.”

“Just a second ago, you were--“

“Look, Spence,” Spencer exhaled when he heard you say the nickname he had been dying to hear for a while. “I’m doing this because I’m in love with you. Love makes you do weird shit -- well, to me anyway. So I'm forgiving you. I forgive you.”

You watched him get up from his place on the sofa and make his way over to you, “I’m so fucking sorry, y/n. Truly.” 

“I know.” You smiled softly up at him. “How are things with you and Sea--Ashley?” 

Spencer frowned at you, “What do you mean?”

“You’re a couple, right?”

“No?”

“No?” Your face scrunched up and you shook your head in confusion. “Wait, I thought you were.”

“No.” He let out a breathy laugh before he placed his hand on your cheek, making you look up at him. “How could I be in a relationship with her when I love you?” 

Any bit of breath you had in your lungs had just been wiped from existence. “You...love...me?” When you scanned his face for any sign of deception and came up empty, you broke out into a grin. “Good, but you’re going to have to make up for what happened with a shit tonne of kisses and cuddles though.”

“I thought you said that you forgive me!” He replied, laughing slightly. 

You nodded at him, “Oh, I do. But I still want kisses and cuddles.”

“Let’s start now then.” Spencer grabbed your face and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of love. In that moment, you felt whole again. Something you hadn't felt for a while.

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Tea Time #3

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

So these little Tea Times were written as little filler-memory chapters to place in between the main story line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fever

↞♞♘↠

Today was not one of your best days, physically or mentally. It had downpoured that morning, leaving the training grounds coated in slippery rivers of mud. Despite the less than ideal conditions, Pixis had insisted that the cadets still complete their daily training tasks. Equally as unideal was the remnants of a fever that still clung to your fatigued form. You were not exempt from training, however, as the onsite nurse had given you the okay for physical activity despite your joints still aching and sporadic chills. You sloshed through the mud, trying to distract yourself from the rapid pounding of your head against your skill as you jogged.

And just as you started feeling optimistic about your exercise, your foot caught in a deep trench of slush and twisted your ankle so awkwardly it sent you flying into the mud. Your face stung from the impact and the gritty taste of dirt coated your lips. The footsteps of other cadets against the wet ground sounded like thunder against your ears as they spared but a passing glance to your fallen form. You coughed and sat up, attempting to regain what sickly dignity you had left when a sharp pain in your ankle sent freezing jolts throughout your body.

“Cadet, get your ass up and finish the run. A little rain shouldn’t stop you.” A barbed voice cut through the dreary haze. You knew that voice only from afar; overheard from distant chatter or through the horrifying tales told by your fellow cadets. And now the famed captain was standing above you, vibrant pupils of ice regarding you through curtains of shadow.

“I can’t sir.” You whimpered. Damn, you hated sounding so weak. But the throbbing of your head was like the bashing of an army of percussionists about to herniate out of your skull and while your ankle was not sprained, you reckoned it would be if you kept pushing it.

“Yes you can.” The captain articulated every syllable so crisply that each word felt like it was lodging you further to the cold ground.

You struggled to gather yourself when a wave of nausea pulsed up your throat from the whiplash you gave yourself from flailing too quickly to appease his orders.

The captain huffed in disbelief when you still weren’t standing. He had seen plenty of cadets fake sickness or injuries to get their lazy asses out of the morning run.

“You think you can get out of the rest of the exercise just because you stumbled and got your uniform dirty? I think not, brat.” He scoffed, poking you with his boot. You were mortified at his insults and could only sit there in silence as your fever assaulted your body at all angles.

“What happens when you fall out there, huh?” He spat. He knelt down and roughly grabbed at your arm to lift you up. You felt like a rag doll caught in his forceful grip as you felt the vomit rearing its anguished head but not yet charging out.

“The only person you can count on picking yourself up is you.” The captain added sternly and craned his neck to force your lolling head to make eye contact with him.

You were about to respond when a pair of arms embraced you from behind. A noise of relief escaped your lips when your body found a steady source of support. You rolled your head back onto their shoulder to see the face of your roommate Mikasa as she gazed thorns at the captain.

“Captain, she's been sick! She clearly can’t run in this condition.” Mikasa exclaimed, adjusting you in her hold when she felt you slipping. You felt too woozy to watch the electric scene unfold before you, but you could feel the kinetic jolts of defensiveness bouncing between their locked eyes. After what felt like an eternity on your end, he nodded in approval.

Too weak to shower, Mikasa had dropped you off at your shared quarters after having you inspected by a nurse. Having to return to her duties she was anxious about leaving you alone. You assured her that you would be fine and that this bed is much nicer than a face full of mud and a boot in the face.

Your mishap with the captain had spread as gossip always does at HQ and as you expected the nosiest of the cadets was at the foot of your bed before you could even reflect on all that had happened.

“I’m going to wring his neck with that stupid, tiny, cravat of his.” Jean seethed as he dipped the washcloth in the bowl. He mumbled about how the nurse had missed so much of the mud that still caked your flushed exterior. Jean’s delicate strokes of cool cloth felt heavenly as it moved over your exposed skin.

“Not if I do it first.” You replied weakly. Now that your body had time to equilibrate, the anger for the way you were treated and the self pity you felt for not being stronger began bubbling to the surface. Despite his irritation, Jean carefully took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and gingerly cleaned your face.

“But you and I both know we are no match for him. Even if we are taller.” You huffed bitterly. Jean rolled his eyes and nodded in resentment.

“Yeah, he’s got too much strength in that tiny body.”

“It's all in the thighs.” Your disdained muffle made Jean chuckle.

A moment passed of comfortable silence where only the soft droplets of water against skin and cloth were heard.

“I promised Oma I would watch out for you, Y/N.” Jean said in a small voice, toying with his bottom lip in insecurity. He soaked the cloth in water once more, this time going to clean your neck.

“That’s kind of hard to do when you’re always tripping over yourself after every girl we train with.” You tried to lighten the mood, sighing when the sweet cooling sensation came back.

“Yeah, well that girl today was you unfortunately.” He retorted. “It would be better if we were on the same training schedule.”

You and Jean were in separate training squadrons and more often than not didn’t see one another besides meals and downtime. You had a sneaking suspicion that you two were assigned separate schedules because of your friendship, seeing as your closeness could be a distraction to training.

“Seriously, though, I don’t intend on breaking my promise. Even if I’m an ass most of the time.” He promised with a sincerity you rarely heard from him. It was a seriousness that only those closest to him knew behind his arrogant shield.

You smiled up affectionately at him and wondered how you got so lucky with a best friend like him. Sure he was stupid, headstrong, acted before he thought, and picked stupid fights with people. But he was also caring, sensitive, and stronger than he knew. The two of you were basically siblings at this point and you would do anything for him.

Jean looked to you when you didn’t reply and his breath hitched in his throat at the love within your eyes. He blushed and narrowed his eyes in awkward inquisition. He was never one for the mushy-gushy.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked with feigned disgust as he wiped your collarbone.

“Just thinking about how you’re my ass, Jeanie.” You remarked and ruffled his hair with what strength you had. Your hand was a bit floppy with exhaustion and ended up almost poking him in the eye. He recoiled with a sputter and lightly placed your hand back at your side.

“Ew, please don’t ever say that again.”

Graduation

↞♞♘↠

“I feel like my baby is graduating!! Is this what being a mother feels like?” Hange wailed and sniffled into your hair. The moment you had stepped off of the stage with your new badges she had caged you into a breath-stealing bear hug.

“You’re going to pay for all my training equipment then right, Mom?” You teased into her shoulder and her sniffling immediately ceased.

“Little sister it is then.” She said and pulled you outward so she could look at you. Her hands squeezed your shoulders gently.

“Nonetheless, I’m so proud of you!” She proclaimed affectionately.

“Thank you, Hange. That means a lot to me. I couldn’t have gotten this far without a squad leader as extraordinary as you.” Your confession was paired with a warm smile that sent Hange into a sputtering mess once again.

“HOW DID YOU GET SO SWEET? I’m not going to lie, I’m going to miss being your squad leader.” She sighed and pinched your cheeks. “It forced you to spend time with me.”

“I’m still going to be spending time with you, I’m on the titan bio-team remember?” You giggled as her pinching intensified and you swatted her hands away.

“That’s true. I’m just going to have to get used to calling you squad leader Y/N.” She playfully saluted and you shook your head fondly.

“Yeah you and me both.”

“Now not only have you graduated in rank, but you’ve also graduated to the big-kid’s table.” Hange winked at you and your breath hitched.

Oh.

Your eyes darted over to the group of seasoned soldiers walking your way. They fell first to Erwin who was paced a few steps ahead, then to the lumbering tree that was Mike, and then to the shorter but no less intimidating captain next to him.

Looks like your teatime acquaintance would now be one of your new lunch buddies.

Little Friend

↞♞♘↠

"Oh by the goddess what on earth happened, Y/N?” Oma called. Upon seeing her dirt lathered 6 year old in the doorway she lept from her armchair and trotted over. You were the embodiment of an ice cream bar; a thick coating of mud covered every thread of your baby blue ruffled dress and every inch of your exposed skin. Your new Mary janes were caked with dried clotted earth and pieces of your curled hair was crustily sticking up with muck. Salty tears left streaks that exposed your true form underneath your outer shell. You took in a shaky exhale.

“J-Jeanie called him ugly.” You choked back a sob as you explained. Your grandmother knitted her eyebrows and crouched down to your level. She gently turned you around to examine her little mud pie for any injuries or scrapes.

“Who is Jeanie insulting?” She inquired in concern. She saw no one but yourself and you hadn’t said you were going to be playing with any other kids besides Jean today. Oma thought after serving in the garrison that nothing could surprise her. But when you reached into your left dress pocket with both hands and carefully pulled out a dark green, lopsided circular object she was proven wrong. You held it out with both arms fully extended and violently sniffed.

“PUDDLE.” You wailed. Your body shook from your childish sobs and caused the object in your hands to croak in disturbance. Oma deadpanned, face to face with the slimy creature.

“Why are you crying so much over a frog, my dear?” She blinked. You squinted your eyes a little to fight the incoming tears her words brought.

“His name is Puddle!” You scolded her with a childish anger.

“I apologize. Yes, Puddle.” She cooed, brushing the sticky pieces of hair out of your slobbery face and rubbing your cheek gently.

“Jeanie called him ugly and, and then t-tried to take him from me and-” You swallowed hard, tears freely streaming down your face and nose running. You held the frog gingerly to your chest and covered the spots where it’s ears would be located with your fingers.

“Said that he would eat him.” You whispered, bottom lip quivering uncontrollably. Oma huffed in disbelief at the whole situation but a warm smile graced her hardened features when you began stroking the creature’s head lovingly.

“How dare he call this beautiful creature ugly. That boy is-” Oma started.

“STUPID, HE’S SO STUPID.” You interjected, crying harder now. Oma brought you to her chest and let you get the rest of your waterworks out into her shoulder while she patted your back comfortingly. Puddle’s croaks were muffled by your embrace.

“Yes he sure is, darling. Well, we most certainly will not eat him. Shall we find a place to keep him so Jeanie can’t hurt him?” Your grandmother proposed sweetly and pulled you at arms length to free poor Puddle from his human hug-prison. She booped you on the nose with her finger and you giggled, the remnants of your sadness fading away at the idea of keeping your new friend. You started brightly bouncing up and down like you were a frog yourself.

“Thank you Oma!”

“Alright, come let’s go see what we can find.” She got to her feet and straightened out her dress before leading you into the parlor to find a suitable home for your new pet.

“Why did you name him Puddle?” She asked in idle curiosity. You seemed very passionate about that name.

“He lived in a puddle, that’s why his name is Puddle.” You stated as if it was the most simple law of the universe. She turned back from her rummaging to see you holding Puddle above your head and twirling slowly. You would lower it every so often to give it an Eskimo kiss and then return to your little dance.

Oma would never tire of seeing that childhood innocence and happy grin on your face.

[hybridequalist]

Thinking Out Loud (Part 4)

Okay, so I ended up lying. This is a few months late to the cross-post from AO3. (Link here) But in any case, here it is if you prefer to read on tumblr.

Previous Chapter (tumblr link)

Taglist: @nesli26, @manga-crazy, @venomemes, @galleyleelol, @makingtimemine, @jackie-sugarskull, @nightshade7117, @skysthelimit291, @randomshizzles101, @inumorph, @snow-massacre, @phantom-fangirl-stuff, @pixellated-sparks, @vsalamandor2, @otaku-mai, @snarky-badger​

You woke up slowly, feeling heavy from a deep, dreamless sleep. The apartment was eerily quiet aside from a faint scraping sound repeating over and over. Your psychic “hearing” took a minute to focus on the three minds in the other room, but once it did, you were overwhelmed by the internal conversation Eddie and Venom were having.

“I LIKE THIS FEMALE. WE SHOULD OFFER OUR PROTECTION TO HER. ”

“I don’t think that would go over well. Remember the last time we were tased? ”

“SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO KNOW. ”

“Consent is important buddy. Not to mention we don't wanna freak out the tenants either."

Lauren's thoughts were more structured--she was writing her words down and concentrating on that communication. However, that didn't stop her from sneaking glances at Eddie and sizing him up, trying to guess details about his life and personality. Currently she was sneaking glances at his biceps...for some reason you really didn’t want to dwell on too long.

"EDDIE, I HEAR HER," Venom whispered to his host. Like, actually whispered; his mental voice was somehow quieter than usual.

“She’s awake? That was faster than I thought. She seem ok? ”

“I THINK SHE’S LISTENING IN. MORSEL, IF YOU ARE, GO AHEAD AND KEEP RESTING. WE WILL OCCUPY THE COLORFUL FEMALE .”

The last two words were accompanied by a mental image of Lauren with an intense focus on her vibrant hair and current choice of large earrings. You also caught the tail end of a thought that was very distinctly non-human and carried traces of a predatory desire to grab the shiny, colorful things. Eddie’s thoughts quickly curbed it--a nonverbal suppression that Venom agreed with.

You slumped back into the mattress, turning your gaze inward as you stretched and assessed your body.

You were a little sore, especially in your chest. The hyperventilation from the panic attack really did a number on you it seemed. Your hands also felt a little stiff in the joints, but it didn’t hurt to move them.

Panic attacks didn’t always end up hurting after the fact, but it wasn’t wholly uncommon. Fatigue was usually the worst aftereffect, your body struggling to recover from your survival response to an imagined threat. It sometimes went away after a good sleep, but today was going to be one of those days where the heaviness settled into your bones and made even the smallest tasks far more tiring than they ought to be.

The once-over complete, you decided you were up for leaving the bed...but not the blanket, which dragged on the floor after you like a fluffy train. You gently pushed open the door and poked your head out, peering at the kitchen down the hall, catching sight of Eddie's leather jacket at the corner of the table.

A jolt of nerves coiled in your stomach and you pulled the blanket cloak around you a little tighter. With Eddie and Venom’s attention focused mostly on Lauren, their thoughts didn’t reflect what they thought of your panic attack. What if they thought you were pathetic? Or too fragile to be around? What if they had never seen a panic attack and thought you were somehow sick?

“EDDIE, SHE’S UP. SHE’S IN THE HALL. HER BREATHING WENT ALL FUNNY AGAIN. ”

Venom’s rumbling thoughts broke through the returning panic spiral. With effort, you stepped out from the hallway and into Lauren’s line of sight. Eddie caught your gaze, brow furrowed, but before you could properly react to him, your landlady took up your view.

Lauren looked you up and down, appraising your condition. While her face seemed only lightly concerned, her thoughts were at war: her motherly tendency to worry battled with her desire to give you space and the noverbal clash of feelings was giving you secondhand mental whiplash.

“Do you need something to eat? Or drink?” she signed. You replied with the sign for water and she bustled off to fill a glass.

“So, uh,” Eddie started, then paused, looking for the right words to finish his question. He finally went with: “How are you doin’ right now? Did your rest do you any good?”

You nodded and sat next to him at the table, reaching for the notepad he and Lauren had used before your arrival.

I’m achy, but otherwise fine now. Mostly.

“YOU WERE HIGHLY DISTRESSED. DID SOMETHING HAPPEN? CAN WE STOP IT FROM HAPPENING TO YOU AGAIN? ”

Venom’s concern felt...oddly directed. He didn’t fully understand what had happened and Eddie’s explanations hadn’t entirely cleared up his confusion. He was under the impression that someone had threatened you or you had some logical reason to freak out. He wanted to find the source of that stress and remove it, like pulling out a thorn.

Mindful that Lauren would probably read whatever you wrote down later, you set about composing your explanation.

It was a panic attack. Sometimes there’s a reason, but most of the time, I start thinking about something stressful and it gets so overwhelming my body reacts like I’m actually in danger.

Eddie and Venom conferred briefly about your explanation and suddenly the symbiote had a new question. You felt your gut twist as you felt the guilt his thoughts now carried.

“DID WE DO THAT TO YOU? DID WE FRIGHTEN YOU OR STRESS YOU? ”

Again, you were careful with your words.

It wasn’t anything you directly said or did. It was more about the prospect of being in a social situation at all. I don’t go out much, so I started overthinking the minor details. It spiraled really quickly from there.

Lauren put down a tall glass of ice water on the table in front of you. You signed your thanks, put down the pen and gulped the cool liquid, savoring the relief it brought your scratchy throat.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked Lauren.

“4 hours.”

“You’ve been talking to Eddie for 4 hours?!”

“He has to write really slow for me to read it. His normal handwriting is too messy. Plus, we took a lunch break.”

Lunch break?! You snatched the pen back up.

I’m so sorry I had to miss out on the lunch. You wanted to show me something and

Eddie’s hand intercepted yours, not grabbing it but rather gently holding you back from writing any more. It was only a moment of skin contact, but it made a jolt run through you and immediately snagged your attention.

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re ok and gonna be getting better. We can reschedule if you want. No problem.”

You instinctively glanced up, looking for his thoughts. You found nothing but sincerity from Eddie. Venom was....well, you weren’t actually sure what he was thinking. On a surface level, he agreed with his host, but underneath that there was some lingering frustration. The symbiote had apparently been really excited to show you something and this forced patience wasn’t entirely sitting well with him.

You carefully moved Eddie’s still-hovering hand and started on a new line.

What about the stuff you wanted to talk about? You wrote, uncertainty and guilt still gnawing at you.

“It can wait. Seriously. My buddy wasn’t even really ready to show off his new trick; he gets excited easy.”

“I SPENT ALL NIGHT PRACTICING! I AM TOTALLY READY! APOLOGIZE! ”

“You’re ready, Vee, but it’s my hands you need if you want to show her in public. And it’s a little soon to invite her to the apartment. ”

“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN TO THERE. I DON’T SEE WHAT THE HOLD UP IS .”

“Those...were extenuating circumstances. And besides, it was more you than me that brought her there. In any case, she’s still getting to know us and I want her to get used to us in public before we do any of your other ideas. ”

It was amazing how quickly they could turn the conversation internal and how much it resembled a verbal discussion rather than truly sharing thoughts. Was it because they knew you were listening? Or was it just their natural state when switching from direct talking to others to each other?

Eddie caught sight of you looking and gave an awkward smile.

“Sorry to keep secrets, but--”

He was interrupted by a ringtone blaring from his jacket. He sighed heavily and snatched his phone.

“It’s my boss. I got an interview in an hour. Sorry to say that I gotta run. I’ll text you later, so go ahead and take it easy for a bit. I’ll leave you to your landlady’s care.”

He waved to Lauren as he answered his phone, turning on his heel to leave. Venom mentally grumbled but gave a nonverbal farewell directed at you. You stared after them long after the door closed, uncertain what to think.

Lauren sat next to you and started signing.

“Well, now I know why you called him a hot mess. Emphasis on the hot.”

You hated how fast your cheeks flushed.

[ravens-words]

forget all the ways that we're broken, Part 3

On AO3

...............

III

"Michael? Is everything okay?" 

He sniffled and tried, though not very well, to stumble his way past her.

She blocked his way and put both her hands on his chest, then took a few seconds to look at him.

He looked awful. His face was bloodied, he had bags under his eyes, and though he was trying to hide it, they were filled with tears. 

She was so shocked she nearly took a step back. "Hey, what's going on?"

He tried to dislodge her hands, but she didn't budge. "Nothing," he lied. 

"Michael," she scolded him, "this isn't nothing. Who did this to you?"

He huffed. "I just got into a fight, okay?" 

"Why?"

"Just leave it alone, Maria."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," she told him stubbornly.

"Leave. Me. Alone."

He pushed past her, but she followed after him, though she made sure to stay behind several paces. He stopped abruptly a few feet away from his airstream and so did she. 

The tension in his muscles seemed to slip away little by little and when he moved forward, she knew why.

"Alex," he whispered tiredly and, to her surprise, with some hostility. 

Alex seemed to pay that no mind and moved closer to him. He raised his hand as if to touch the bruises littering Michael's face, but thought better of it and lowered his hand. "What do you need?"

"I thought this was what I needed," Michael answered, pointing at his face. "It didn't help."

Alex's hands were clenched, and so was his jaw, and she wondered why that was. Did he not want to be here? Was he uncomfortable with Michael's vulnerability? 

Michael stumbled a little, and Alex unthinkingly steadied him. In a move that surprised her, and Alex, if the widened eyes were an indication, Michael threw himself into his arms. 

Alex didn't waste any time and immediately pulled him in. Michael's face was buried in Alex's neck, his arms were clutching at his sides and it only took a second for him to start crying. Loud, hoarse and absolutely heartwrenching sobs tore out of his throat and Maria was forced to do nothing but watch as her boyfriend fell apart.

Alex's face was twisted in a pained expression; his lips were trembling, and his eyes were squeezed shut. Michael moved, as if he wanted to be even closer to him and Alex seemed to tighten his arms around the other man. 

"It's my fault," Michael cried. "God, if I'd waited, she could still be here."

"No," Alex told him firmly, and he peeled Michael away from him to hold his face in both his hands. "Listen to me, it wasn't on you. How could you have known, huh? It wasn't your fault, I promise you. It wasn't your fault."

Michael sniffled, then wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands and looked at Alex. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to check up on you. Knew today would be hard, and I didn't want you to be alone."

Michael laughed, it was cold, and the sudden change in demeanor gave Maria whiplash. He shook his head. "Not the first time I've gone through hard days alone, Alex, doubt it'll be the last. You can go now."

Her mouth fell open, and they spent a few seconds just staring at each other. Alex scoffed and shook his head. She watched Michael watch him leave, and wondered why he'd pushed him away.

She made to leave, but then changed her mind. Michael was her boyfriend; if he was upset, she needed to at least try to be there for him. Not that she had a clue on how she could be there for him.

Michael was her boyfriend. Yet he hadn't come to her for comfor, had pushed her away, but on the other hand, he had allowed Alex to hold him, to comfort him.

She took a deep breath, then straightened up and determinately made her way into his airstream. 

Maria crouched down in front of the bed where Michael lay sprawled out and only hesitated a second before she reached out and ran her hand through his hair. 

"Alex?"

"Michael," Alex sighed in relief. "Hey, Iz's gonna be okay," Alex informed him gently. His eyes took Michael in, from the messy hair, to the bloody knuckles and he sighed.

Alex grabbed a washcloth and then, with some difficulty, maneuvered himself into a sitting position opposite Michael. He held out his hand for Michael's, and Michael laid his bleeding hand in Alex's without a word. 

He was crying quietly, but Alex just focused on his hand. "She's tough, so she's gonna pull through."

"I'm so goddamn tired of losing people, Alex," Michael whispered miserably.

Alex shook his head. "You won't lose her." 

"You can't know that."

"Isobel has Kyle looking after her, okay? She's gonna make it. You won't lose anyone."

"I lost you, didn't I?"

Alex's hand stilled and he looked up at Michael. "You didn't lose me."

Michael laughed quietly, a small broken thing. "You're marrying him, Alex."

Alex sighed. "Yeah, I am. That doesn't mean you'll lose me, though."

They were close. Too close. Michael leaned in, and though Alex didn't do the same, he didn't lean away either. The kiss was chaste, and their lips were the only points of contact. Michael struggled to move closer and that was when Alex put an end to it. He didn't move far, though. His forehead rested on Michael's and the pained look on his face was a mirror image of the one on Michael's. 

"I'm gonna pretend this didn't happen. And you're never going to kiss me again," he told him in a gentle but firm tone. 

At Michael's stunned look, Alex leaned back and shook his head. "You're hurting."

Michael closed his eyes. 

"You either wanted to push me away or-" he cut himself off and ran an anxious hand into his hair. "God, Michael, why did you have to complicate this? We were doing so well."

He scoffed. "No, we weren't. You- I'm going to have to watch you marry somebody else, Alex."

"You don't want to talk about this with me, Michael." Alex informed him in a dangerously calm voice.

"Oh, but I do."

"I came to you, and I poured my heart out to you, years ago. I told you I was ready to try again and you went and kissed Maria. You were with her for a year. A whole year, and I had to keep my mouth shut because that's what a best friend is supposed to do. I sang a song that I wrote for you, about you, and you didn't even stick around to hear all of it. And after that? You break up with Maria and immediately start sleeping with anything that moves. How was I, during all of this, supposed to know that you want to be with me? What was supposed to give me a hint that you still had feelings for me?"

By the end of his long winded rant, Alex was breathing hard and his fists were clenched by his side. 

"Is there a chance for us, Alex?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head.

"Say it. Tell me there's no hope for us and you'll never have to see me again."

"Michael-"

Maria stumbled back and barely caught herself before she fell on her ass. Her hand flew to her mouth and she quickly but quietly left the airstream, her heart beating a mile a minute. 

She was going to be sick.

She didn't know how, but she managed to make it to her truck, and she somehow managed to drive herself home. All the while, the latest vision was playing in her mind's eye like a broken record.

It was time to tell both Michael and Alex the truth.

[cocastyle]

Change - Ch. 2 | F I V E

Pairing - Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 6,390

A/N - sorry for the wait but I’m going to be starting college soon so I’ve been busy with family, friends, and buying stuff for my dorm. I’m hoping to start writing updates again so here’s the first one many! let me know what you think especially with Greyson in the mix because I just love him so much! also, let me know if you like me including the flashbacks because I kind of loved it and was thinking about including more than what is just in the movie!

if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series let me know!

C H A N G E

Change Series Masterlist

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

F I V E - Remember

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

Y/N stared up at the Derry Townhouse in front of her, a sick feeling in her stomach as she realized that she had to go in there and convince her friends to stay. If there was any shot of them defeating It, it had to be with all of them there. That's how they defeated It last time and that was the only way they would be able to defeat It this time.

She knew her friends would think she was crazy. She was well aware of the fact. Y/N just wasn't sure what she was going to say or if she was even ready to face them after what they had all just found out. She wasn't ready for the looks of pity or the reminders of Stan especially since her heart was already so fragile that one more blow might actually kill her.

The woman found herself spiraling down a whirlpool of her own thoughts and she would've only gotten worse if it weren't for Greyson gently grabbing ahold of her hand and giving it a squeeze. Y/N glanced at the boy, his red eyes matching hers despite the small reassuring smile on his face.

Y/N really didn't deserve Greyson as a son. It was almost too good to be true.

"Together," Greyson whispered, reminding her once again that she wasn't alone no matter how much she felt like she was without Stan. Y/N gave a short nod and squeezed Greyson's hand once before the two began walking up the steps of the townhouse.

They were inside within seconds and were instantly met with Richie yelling at Ben and Beverly with his bag hanging from his shoulder, "Whatever you guys are talking about, let's make it happen fast, alright? We got to go." He turned towards the stairs and yelled up, "Edwardo, andele! Let's go!"

Richie then seemed to notice the presence of Y/N and Greyson and let out a small sigh of relief. "I don't know where the fuck you've been, but go grab your shit. We're getting out of here pronto," Richie announced as he walked over to behind the girl and began lightly shoving her towards the steps. "Come on, Uris. Move it."

"Rich, I can't," Y/N managed to say, her words causing the man to freeze before letting out a loud laugh.

"Real funny, Y/N. Now come on. I'm not leaving here until I know you're safe and on your way home," Richie insisted as he tried to move her again.

"Richie," Y/N sighed, but the man was barely listening to her as he caught wind of Beverly and Ben's conversation in which Y/N and Greyson couldn't help but listen to either.

"There's something you're not telling us. You knew how Stanley died. You knew," Ben said, his words making the three wide eyed while Beverly just remained silent.

"Wait, what?" Richie questioned as he let go of Y/N and walked into the small parlor the pair was in. Y/N quickly followed after, coming to a stop beside Richie while Greyson came up behind them.

"You. . .knew?" Y/N whispered, a flicker of hurt flashing through her eyes while Beverly lowered her gaze to the floor.

"I can't do this," Beverly muttered before brushing past the four and attempting to walk away into a different room.

"She knew how Stanley was going to die? Is that what she just said?" Richie asked, but Ben and Y/N were already following after the red head. Richie glanced to Greyson who merely shrugged. The man noticed his red eyes and sighed before placing a hand on the kid's shoulder in comfort as they walked after the three.

"You can't just walk away from this," Ben insisted while Beverly rapidly rang the bell at the front desk. "How did you know where he killed himself? Bev."

The red head ignored them and moved around the counter. "Talk to me. Just talk to me like we used to!" Ben exclaimed, but when his attempts still didn't work, Y/N stepped in and was quick to stand in front of the girl to stop her from moving.

Beverly was quiet as she stared at Y/N, the later staring at the red head in a mixture of pain and sadness as she reached out to grab onto Beverly's hand. "Bev, please," Y/N whispered, her eyes flickering over the girl's face as she desperately squeezed her hand.

If Beverly had known that Stan was going to die, Y/N needed to know how and why. It just didn't make sense. None of this did. And Y/N really just wanted the whole picture. She deserved that much.

Beverly let out a shaky breath, tears beginning to fill her eyes as she whispered, "Because I saw it. I've seen all of us die, even—" She trailed off as her eyes flickered over to Greyson.  Y/N's breath caught in her throat and she glanced back at her son who stared back wide eyed while Richie tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder.

A heavy silence fell among the group as Beverly's words began to sink in. No one even bothered glancing at Eddie who was noisily making his way down the stairs with his two bags that kept banging against the wooden railing and wall.

"Okay. I just got to grab my toiletry bag and then we can go," Eddie announced as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He set his bags down and looked up at the group, pausing almost instantly at the looks on their faces while Y/N finally glanced over at him. The look she gave him made his blood run cold.

"What'd I miss?"

- - -

"Okay, so what do you mean that you've seen us all die?" Eddie questioned, not being able to fathom what Beverly meant. Y/N just put her head in her hands, the regret of deciding to stay coursing through her body while Greyson just sat silent by her side at the mini bar in the room they were in.

"Yeah, cause I got to be honest. That's a fucked up thing to just drop on somebody," Richie muttered.

"Every night since Derry I've been. . .having these nightmares," Beverly explained. "People in pain. People dying. People—" She fell short as a look of horror and pain flashed across her face.

"So you have nightmares?" Eddie questioned as he stopped next to Y/N's chair and leaned against the back. "I have nightmares. People, they have nightmares. But that doesn't mean that your visions are true."

He nudged Y/N and the woman glanced back at him to find Eddie giving her a look as if to ask her to back him up, but for once she couldn't. Y/N just looked away and Eddie swallowed thickly, dread washing over him as he looked to Beverly.

"I've watched every single one of us this week," Beverly whispered, her words making Y/N lean further into her hands as she shook her head.

"You've seen every single one of us what?" a new voice questioned. Y/N sat up almost instantly, her head turning around so quickly she could've gotten whiplash. Her eyes locked on Bill who was already staring back at her from where he stood beside Mike, a small look of surprise and relief on his face at seeing her sitting there.

Y/N didn't know why she had the sudden urge to cross the room and fall into the man's arms, but she did and somehow she was able to keep herself in her seat. Bill's eyes flashed with an unreadable expression as he stared at her, but then he seemed to remember what he had been saying and blinked before looking back down at Beverly.

"To the place where Stanley wound up. That's how we end," Beverly said, her eyes flickering over to Y/N who immediately avoided eye contact and stared down at her hands. A hand was placed on top of her own and Y/N glanced to her side where Greyson was giving her a soft reassuring smile as he squeezed her hand. Y/N squeezed his hand back, her heart warming at just how amazing her son was.

"Okay, how come the rest of us aren't seeing that shit? What—what makes her so different?" Richie asked.

"The dead lights," Y/N muttered, her whole body feeling as if it had suddenly been dunked under cold water. She distantly saw Beverly floating in the air, her eyes glazed over as she floated above them trapped in some sort of prison that Pennywise was able to conjure.

Everyone's eyes flickered over to her and Y/N sighed before taking her free hand and running it through her hair while the other one held on tightly to her son. "It's the only thing that makes sense. No one else's got trapped in the dead lights, only Bev," she explained.

"She was the only one of us that got caught in the dead lights that day," Bill muttered as the memory came back to him and the others.

The man shook his head and crossed the room to sit in the seat beside Y/N, plopping down in disbelief while Greyson watched his mother gently reach out and place a hand on Bill's shoulder. Bill's hand flew up instantly, settling on top of her own and holding onto it tightly before the two exchanged a small look.

"We were all touched by it. Changed. Deep down like an infection or a virus. A virus! You understand! Slowly—" Mike tried to say as he reached out for Eddie, but the man quickly slid past him and began pacing around the room. "That virus, it's been growing for twenty seven years. This whole time metastasizing. It just got to Stan first because—"

"He's the weakest," Richie said and before anyone could even blink, Y/N had slammed her hand on the counter in order to push her up off her seat. She was in front of Richie in a matter of seconds, her finger pointed at his chest while a look of pure fury dawned her face.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she darkly said, "Stanley was not weak. He. . .he was brave and kind and. . .and—" Y/N had to pause in order to stop the sob that had begun to cross her lips. "And a better man than you will ever be!"

Richie's face softened as he looked down at his friend and for a moment it was like he saw the same thirteen year old that had been his best friend all of those years ago, the same girl who rarely left her cousin's side and loved him with all of her heart. Fuck, he was an asshole, wasn't he?

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to hurt you," Richie whispered as he carefully reached out and wrapped his arms around the girl, pulling her closer to his body for a hug. She fell against him with no fighting, her body limp against his own while her hands balled into fists on his jacket.

A soft sob escaped her lips and she weakly shook the man as she said again, "Stanley's not weak. He's not. . .he's not weak."

Richie just held her tighter, his eyes flickering up to the others who were all glaring at him. He gave them all an apologetic smile and most of them shook their heads and looked away, but Bill and Greyson continued to glare at Richie from where they sat next to each other at the counter.

"What Beverly sees, it will come to pass," Mike said after a moment of silence where Y/N finally managed to calm herself down enough to look back at the others while Richie continued to hold her comfortingly which no one bothered pointing out. He had always had a soft spot for the girl since they were younger and now was no exception, especially considering the fact that he had been the one to make her upset. "It's what'll happen to all of us eventually unless we stop it."

"How the hell are we supposed to do that?" Eddie questioned, glancing over at Y/N to see if she was alright and smiling softly as he watched her pull away from Richie and return the soft smile that Richie was giving her as he brushed her hair out of her face and whispered another apology.

"The ritual of Chüd," Mike told them.

Y/N scrunched up her nose, wiping at her eyes to get rid of the last of her tears as she pushed her emotions aside and tried to be the brave girl she had been twenty seven years ago when she first fought the clown. "The ritual of what now?" she questioned, her and Richie sharing a look of disgust and confusion.

"Chüd," Mike said again. "The Shokapiwah, the first ones who fought it, they have a saying. All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit."

"Tribal ritual? Are you fucking kidding me, man?" Richie questioned while Y/N just shook her head and walked over to the line of alcohol bottles on the wall. She was quick to grab a bottle and pour herself a shot before downing it in a matter of seconds. She could feel eyes on her and glanced over at her son who had an eyebrow raised. Sighing, Y/N poured herself one last shot and set the bottle down before walking over to the counter and leaning opposite of Greyson.

"There's gotta be another way," Y/N insisted, downing her last shot and setting the glass down while Bill sneaked a worried look in her direction.

"Y/N's right. This thing comes back what? Every twenty seven years? Let's kick the can down the road and do it then," Richie suggested.

"We'll be seventy years old, asshole," Eddie pointed out.

Y/N winced. "Yeah, I'd like to think I'll be up and kicking at seventy, but I'll have one foot in the grave before I can even think about fighting some fucking clown at that age," she muttered.

"It doesn't work that way," Beverly assured her. "None of us make it another twenty years, not even Greyson, and the way it happens—"

Beverly trailed off again and Y/N glanced at Greyson before clenching her jaw. "You trailing off every time you're about to say something horrible does not make this any less terrifying," Y/N said, her eyes locking on Bill who had his concerned gaze on Greyson as if he couldn't imagine the kid dying a horrible death this early in his life because of Pennywise.

"So if we don't beat It this cycle then we die," Ben concluded.

"Horrible," Eddie added.

"Yeah, I don't need the horrible part," Richie assured the man.

"I didn't say it, she said it. Not me," Eddie muttered.

"Wow, such great options we have. Either give up and die, lose and die, or somehow pull a win out of asses and actually get to live the rest of our lives. I'm loving this whole reunion thing so far," Y/N grumbled, earning a small glare from Greyson as the boy silently told her to play nice.

"Alright guys, look," Bill said as he pushed himself up off his seat, patting Greyson's shoulder once before glancing around at his friends. "I've seen w-w-what he's talking about and it's. . .it's all true." Bill's eyes stopped on Y/N and she lightly shook her head at him, but he only gave her a small look as he whispered, "It's the only way."

Y/N bit her lip at that, staring silently at Bill as she tried to decide if she actually had to do this. But then she was reminded of Stanley and how she wanted to make him proud. She was reminded of Greyson who had a future she needed to protect. She was reminded of the Losers', her friends who she made a pact with long ago at the age of thirteen to return and defeat this clown once and for all.

And then there was Bill. Bill Denbrough, the boy who she hadn't remembered until Mike spoke to her over the phone but the boy who she knew had meant so much to her back in the day. This was the boy who had willingly offered to sacrifice himself to Pennywise in order for them to escape and the same boy who had comforted her after her parents' divorce.

There is no way I'm leaving you behind. And there is absolutely no fucking way I'm going to be able to live a happy life without you in it.

You make me happy, Bill Denbrough.

"Fuck," Y/N whispered as she ran a hand through her hair in frustration. She let out a sigh of exasperation and looked at Bill a moment longer, the man giving her a shy smile for he knew she was breaking. She was quick to look away and instead turned her attention to Mike. "If you want this ritual to work—" she trailed off, ignoring the small sighs coming from Eddie and Richie as they both hung their head because they knew if Y/N stayed that meant they would be staying as well.

"We have to remember," Mike told her, his words making the group hesitate while Greyson began to smile excitedly.

"Remember what?"

- - -

"No fucking way," Y/N breathed out as her eyes flickered around the scenery that surrounded her. "The Barrens." Subconsciously, Y/N glanced over to her side, a small smile on her face as she expected a certain curly haired boy to be standing with her.

She was met with nothing but empty space.

Her smile instantly vanished as she was once again reminded that her cousin was gone, but she didn't have long to think about it before a hand gently grabbed ahold of her shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. Y/N turned, relaxing a bit at the sight of Bill standing there but also feeling her stomach erupt with butterflies almost instantly.

She momentarily saw Greyson glance back at her and Bill from where he stood beside Richie and Eddie who were also looking back. The three all gave her different looks, Greyson smiling with a thumbs up while Richie smirked and Eddie gave her a knowing look. Y/N quickly ignored them and instead looked back at Bill who was watching her expectantly.

Realizing she had missed his question, Bill chuckled before saying, "I asked how you are doing."

"Oh, uh. . .fine. Fine. Fine," she said, wincing slightly at her own words while Bill raised an eyebrow at her. Y/N let out a soft sigh, "We can talk about this later, okay? Right now is really not the time."

"Right, of course," Bill nodded, letting his hand fall back down to his side. "I just. . .I'm here, okay? You're not alone in this."

Y/N hesitated at that, her eyes flickering up to lock with Bill's before she smiled her first genuine smile since the news of Stan's death. Bill almost swooned at the sight and he swore his heart leapt out of his chest for a moment when Y/N brushed her hand against his before grabbing onto it and intertwining their fingers together.

"I know," she whispered, chuckling softly at the sight of Bill's red cheeks while he gripped onto her hand just as tight.

"This is where we came," Ben spoke up, his voice snapping the two out of their trance. They glanced over at Ben before looking around at the part of the forest they were in which looked really familiar. "After the rock fight."

"Ah, the rock fight," Y/N sighed. "Henry Bowers didn't know what hit him. You remember us telling him off, Rich?"

"How could I forget? That was the day I learned you had such a potty mouth, sweetheart," Richie teased, glancing back at the girl and tossing a wink in her direction.

"You're telling me Mom didn't come out of the womb telling everyone off?" Greyson asked, quickly holding his hands up in surrender when Y/N playfully glared in his direction.

Richie suddenly let out a small gasp, his eyes widening as he said, "The Clubhouse."

"Holy shit," Y/N laughed, squeezing Bill's hand as she glanced at the man. "We use to sneak out here all the time." Richie immediately wiggled his eyebrows at the two and Y/N frowned before letting go of Bill's hand in order to walk over to her friend and whack the back of his head. "Not in that way, dumbass. I started coming out here by myself when everything going on with my parents just became too much and Bill often joined me."

"Did you and Bill have a thing?" Greyson suddenly questioned, trying to hide his smug grin behind a curious expression that Y/N saw right through.

However, she wasn't able to handle the situation very well because the suddenness of the question made her face instantly turn bright red and Bill wasn't much better.

"Oh, they totally had the hots for each other," Richie assured the kid. "In fact, they even—"

"Okay! That's enough!" Y/N exclaimed. "We're getting off subject. We were talking about the Clubhouse, remember? Ben, you built that for us if I am remembering correctly, didn't you?"

"Yeah, the hatch has got to be around here someplace," Eddie agreed, sending a small look in Y/N's direction before grabbing ahold of Greyson's shoulder and beginning to push him forwards. "Come on, Grey. You're gonna want to see this."

The two walked off in search of the hatch along with the others leaving Bill and Y/N to awkwardly stand there before the woman abruptly turned around. "I'm sorry about Greyson. He doesn't exactly know when it's appropriate to ask personal questions like that," Y/N said.

Bill just smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets before saying, "No, it's fine. He's a curious boy is all. Just like his mother."

"At least he's not walking into sewers looking for missing children," Y/N joked, her words making both of them halt. The woman blinked and furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm sorry. That kind of just slipped out. I. . .I don't even—"

"Remember that much?" Bill finished, an understanding look crossing his face. "Me too. Although, I do remember some things." His eyes flickered over her face for a moment as if he were trying to find some hidden answer. "What. . .what do you r-r-remember?"

"Just some of the basics like spending the summer with Stanley because of my parents. Meeting everyone and that fucking house It resides in. And I remember some of the fighting, but not that much other than that," Y/N explained.

"Any—anything else?" Bill asked, his eyes still scanning her face and making Y/N's cheeks heat up a bit.

Was there something she was forgetting? She only remembered what she had told Bill and then the fact that she had a huge crush on him back then and that it seemed like he had liked her too.

"No," Y/N hesitantly said, a sinking feeling growing in her stomach once she saw the smile wipe off Bill's face. "Is there something you remember that I don't?"

Bill lowered his gaze to the floor and quickly shook his head. "No, no. Nothing important anyways. Don't worry about it," he assured her, although the tone of his voice told Y/N a different story.

"Bill—" Y/N began, but she was cut off by Ben's voice suddenly calling out to them. Bill was quick to brush past her as he walked over to the others, an action that made Y/N frown and stare after him.

So she was definitely not remembering something, but what?

"You know, I actually think the door was more like around—" Ben started to say, but he fell short when the ground beneath him suddenly gave way and he fell tumbling into what was below.

Y/N's hand flew over her mouth in an attempt to stop her laughter and the others had to stifle their laughter as well while Greyson walked over to the edge of the hole and looked down with a cheeky grin. "You okay there, buddy?" Greyson asked, earning a small groan in response.

"Found it," Ben's muffled voice could be heard calling out. "I'm okay! Come down!"

Everyone hesitantly stared at the hole while Greyson glanced at his mother as if to ask her what their next move was. For a moment, Y/N was met with a memory that she hadn't thought of in quite some time. A small smile appeared on her face as she walked over to the hole, glancing back at the others and giving them a mock salute that made some of them blink in surprise at the familiarity of the scene. In fact, it was like they could see a thirteen year old version of Y/N doing the exact same thing.

Y/N stared down at the hole before letting out a shaky breath. "Welcome back to the Clubhouse, Y/N," she whispered. And with that, she began to make her descent back into the clubhouse of her past.

- - -

1989

"What do you think it is?" Y/N questioned as she rested her head against her hand and looked up at the sky. "A new jump off spot at the Quarry? Some secret passage that will take us to Narnia?"

"Y/N, I don't think it's any of those things," Stan chuckled, glancing over at his cousin as a wide smile appeared on his face.

"Why not? Ben said he had something to show us. It could literally be anything in the world!" Y/N exclaimed happily, throwing her hands up in the air for exaggeration and making Richie groan.

"I hope it's a back brace because I'm going to need it if you keep moving around like that," Richie grumbled below Y/N who he was currently carrying on his back through the woods.

"And whose fault is that?" Y/N inquired, a smirk on her face as she glanced down at the boy. Richie frowned and Y/N chuckled before reaching out and pushing his glasses back up his nose which in turn received a thankful glance from the boy.

"You were the one who bet Y/N couldn't do a round off back handspring followed by four flips in the air before hitting the water at the Quarry," Eddie pointed out, earning a small glare from Richie.

"How was I supposed to know she did gymnastics for seven fucking years? She didn't disclose that information to me. This isn't fair," Richie complained.

"Quit complaining, Rich," Mike laughed, pushing a tree branch out of the way in order for Richie to walk under it successfully without Y/N being hit. "It could be worse. She could've made you do literally anything else, but all she's doing is making you give her a piggyback ride."

"Yeah, through the fucking forest," Richie grumbled. "I really think you just love to torture me, sweetheart."

"It's my job," Y/N replied with a smug look on her face.

"I can't!" Richie exclaimed suddenly placing the girl on the ground and putting his arms up in the air in order to stretch. "I think my back is about to spaz out or something."

"Rich—" Y/N began, a bit of concern flashing through her eyes as she looked at the boy.

"It's fine, Richie. I'll carry her for you so that you don't have to worry about it anymore," Bill spoke up, his words making Y/N's eyes widen as she quickly spun around to look at the boy.

He stood there with his hands in his pocket, a shy grin on his face as he let his eyes flicker over to her. "As long as that is okay, of course," Bill whispered.

"Thank you!" Richie exclaimed before beginning to shove Y/N over to the boy. "I know I practically carry the whole group with my dazzling personality, but I didn't think I'd literally have to carry one of you. Please, just take her."

If Y/N had wanted to protest, she had no chance for Richie had shoved her forward one last time and she was suddenly face to face with Bill. Her mouth hung open a bit, her face beginning to heat up while her heart beat rapidly in her chest.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Y/N questioned, hesitantly watching Bill who just gave her a warm smile and nodded his head before turning around in order for her to climb onto his back.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and placed her hands on Bill's shoulders before jumping up, the boy catching her legs while she desperately wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her face into the crook of his neck in order not to fall off. Once she was sure she was okay, Y/N peeled her eyes open and let out a small sigh of relief as Bill began to walk once again, this time with her gently holding onto him for a piggyback ride.

Y/N glanced over in Richie's direction to check and see how he was doing before her eyes widened at the sight of him smirking at her. It didn't take much for her to realize Richie had planned this, had been hoping this is how it would play out. She sent a small glare in his direction and didn't even think twice in leaning her head against Bill's while the boy tried to hide his growing blush.

The group walked for a while longer, some of them mumbling their own conversations to one another while Bill and Y/N remained silent and enjoyed the small walk.

"Now that we finally managed to get Richie to stop complaining, I've got to say I'm just as curious as Y/N," Beverly spoke up, glancing between her friends before stopping on Ben. "What is it, Ben?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but it's nothing like what Y/N suggested. However, I think it might be a bit better," Ben said, a small smile growing on his face as he suddenly stopped in a small clearing in the center of the woods.

The group came to a stop and Y/N sat up a bit and leaned an arm against Bill's shoulder which she used to prop up her head. "What are we looking at here, Hanscom?" Y/N questioned.

"Oh, right," Ben said as he snapped out of his daze and hurried over to a small spot in the ground. Y/N couldn't quite understand what he was doing and Bill glanced back at her, the two both sharing a look before realizing how close their faces were and quickly looking away.

Before they knew what was happening, Ben had grabbed ahold of something and pulled it up to reveal some sort of hatch with a hole in the ground. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she watched Ben glance at them before he began to climb into the hole.

"Uhh, whatcha doin' there, Ben?" Stan questioned, walking over to Bill and Y/N in order to help the girl get down.

"Come down!" Ben called out. Everyone left above shared a look before hesitantly staring at the hole. Finally, Y/N let out a small laugh of excitement and broke everyone out of their trance as she skipped over to the hole. She gave them a mock salute before beginning to climb down, the others shaking their heads at her in amusement before following after.

Y/N made it only halfway down the ladder before she managed to piece together what she was walking into. A look of shock appeared on her face as her feet managed to touch the ground. She stepped away from the ladder allowing the others to get down as well while she tried to take in her surroundings which looked to be some sort of clubhouse under ground.

"What the dick is this?" Richie asked as he jumped off the last part of the ladder and onto his feet. He adjusted his glasses and began to walk around while Y/N shook her head at the boy. "How'd you build it?"

"When did you build it?" Bill questioned, scaring Y/N as she realized the boy was standing right beside her. She couldn't stop herself from jumping in surprise and Bill quickly looked at her, a startled and guilty look on his face while Y/N nervously laughed and looked away with red cheeks.

"Here and there, I guess," Ben said with a small shrug as if it were no big deal.

"Ben, this is so cool!" Y/N exclaimed as she hurried over to the boy and gave him a big hug. "It's like our own little Narnia."

"Minus the creepy witch trying to kill us and the talking animals and—" Richie began to list off, but one glare from Y/N had him putting his hands up in surrender.

"It was already dug out from something," Ben said while Y/N let him go. "So I just had to reinforce the walls and get some wood for the uhh. . .for the roof door and that's pretty much it. Pretty good for my first time, huh?" He leaned a hand against one of the wood beams and a piece of the ceiling suddenly broke off and fell to the ground.

Y/N had to jump out of the way and she stumbled into Stan who was quick to catch his cousin and help her stand up right. She sent him a grateful look and wiped the dust off of her shirt before linking her arm with Stan like always.

"Now that's a cool feature," Richie mused. "What happens when you put your hand on the other pillar, Professor?"

"Okay, you see, this is exactly why there are safety codes, why we have permits!" Eddie exclaimed, slapping his hand on top of the palm of his other one for emphasis. "This place is a death trap, you understand that?"

"Right. Well, it's a work in progress, okay, Eddie?" Ben said, his shoulders slumping a bit.

Y/N frowned and gave Stan's arm a small squeeze before moving over to Eddie. "Come on, Eds," she said as she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down a bit, okay? We're fine. Ben was just trying to do something nice for us and he did all of this by himself. Be a kid for a minute and realize how fucking cool this is."

Eddie glanced at the girl and despite his frown, managed to relax a bit before giving her a small smile. Y/N grinned and wrapped an arm around Eddie's shoulders in order to give him a side hug while the boy weakly tried to push her away while hiding his smile.

"Just know if I get hurt, you are liable," Eddie said as he pointed at Ben. "Also, what is this?" He pulled away from Y/N in order to whack a small metal box. "The switch of the Iron Maiden?"

"That's. . .that's a flashlight," Ben replied.

"And what is that? A horse hitch?" Eddie questioned while Y/N put a hand to her forehead and lightly shook her head. She loved Eddie, but he could be a bit high strung at times. "When do you have horses down—oh, this is cool."

He got distracted from his ranting and picked up a paddle ball. "That was like three dollars so be careful with that please," Ben muttered.

"I have one of these," Eddie said before beginning to play with the object. He bounced the ball as far away as he could and looked to Stan with a smile. "Hey, Stan. You see this?"

"Yeah, okay. Can. . .maybe. . .you not?" Stan asked as he flinched back, the others all watching the two in slight amusement and annoyance.

"Maybe not what?" Eddie questioned as he bounced the ball faster. "Yeah, yeah. Hold on. Maybe I'll not what? Maybe I'll not what? Be awesome and have fun and celebrate the magic of the power of the paddle ball?"

Y/N raised her eyebrows in amusement and was just about to tell Eddie to cut it out when he dropped the paddle to the ground, the ball falling off of the string and rolling across the ground and between some wooden skates in the ground.

Everyone was silent before Y/N let out a loud laugh that had Eddie glaring at her while she stumbled over to them and leaned against Stan for support. "That was on you!" Y/N exclaimed while Eddie pouted.

"Uhh, no. It was Stanley. Good going, fucknut. You broke his thing," Eddie said causing Stan to blink his eyes in surprise band before looking at his friend.

"I broke it?" Stan questioned.

"Yeah, you broke it with your face. Y/N saw," Eddie said as he pointed at the girl who held up her hands in surrender.

"I saw nothing," Y/N insisted earning a smug look from Eddie and a look from Stan that practically screamed 'seriously?'

"I'm not putting my fucking hand down there," Eddie insisted before him and Stan began to argue.

Y/N watched the two in amusement before leaning her arm against Stan's shoulder and turning to look at the others. "Oh, this is going to be fun," she said, a grin appearing on her face while the others began to smile.

Her and the Losers would end up spending half of their summer in there and Y/N would be the one to give the place a name one evening when the group was all joking around and eating the candy Y/N had managed to sneak out of the house with Stan. And that very name would stick for years to come.

The Clubhouse.

* * *

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[bts-roses]

Spilling Coffee | 2

➼ summary: You’ve always prided yourself in being a naturally graceful and reliable person. So an internship at BigHit seemed like a walk in the park. That is, until a certain goof slide-kicks you off your feet and makes your life a whole lot harder.

Or

Namjoon is a misunderstood klutz and y/n thinks too much.

➼ pairing: idol!namjoon x intern!reader

➼ genre: fluff

➼ word count: 2,500

Previous | Next

‣

The morning sun beams on Namjoon’s face as he stares at the iced latte on the table. Its’ ice cubes slightly melting from the sun rays piercing their heat onto it. He glares intensely at it with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. The staff try and give their usual greetings as they walk past but they stop, slightly disturbed at the outlandish man. He looks crazy. Like a cartoon villain, he’s sitting with his legs crossed and fingertips touching, head deep in thought.

It’s officially been exactly a month since the fateful coffee incident and things haven’t got better, in fact things are worse.

‣ 

The elevator was getting busy after lunch. You were slightly squeezed at the back, barely able to let out a deep breath, when a new group of people walked in.

“Bro, I can’t believe you did that.” you hear a familiar voice laugh out. Isn’t that Jimin’s voice?

You look over the stranger’s shoulder to see the majority of BTS in the front. Shit. You panic slightly in the corner, scared of unwanted contact. As a last resort, you awkwardly bend your knees to diminish your height until you could no longer see them, accidentally kneeing the stranger’s legs in front of you. You feel the person in front of you jerk slightly and look down at you puzzled. You let out a sheepish smile and mouth an apology to them. Real smooth y/n.

“Leave me alone.” Namjoon says, embarrassed at the amount of people in the lift hearing their conversation.

You slightly shiver at the sound of his voice.

“We can’t. How could we?” Jungkook giggles, clutching his stomach from laughing too much, “You literally-”

“Okay we get it, we don’t need to hear it again.” Namjoon whines, stopping the youngest to finish his sentence.

“Joon, you fell and skid on actual dog shit. I think we do need to hear it again. It’s not like it was the first time.” Jin exclaims, the other members bubbling in laughter again.

The small room bursts in claps and boisterous roars from the members. Namjoon’s face instantly glows a deeper shade of read, hearing the mumbles of the people behind him. 

“So that’s what I was smelling.” You whisper mindlessly to yourself, looking up when you hear some people in the elevator laughing at your remark.

Namjoon hears it as well. He recognises that voice anywhere. He turns around and you both meet eyes. His face turns in upmost horror at the fact that you not only heard all of that but now you’re gonna associate him with the smell of dog shit. Meanwhile, your face morphs into an expression of fear. He heard that.

Before he can grab you and explain that he actually normally smells really nice, they arrive at his floor and he is dragged away by his so-called friends out of the elevator.

“I fucking hate you all.” He shouts, hitting anyone he could get his hands on the moment the doors close.

The members, who took part in the taunting, stare at him bewildered and are confused by the leader’s odd reaction. He normally just takes the teasing passively and even joins in from time to time.

“Hyung, we’re just joking.” Taehyung laughs nervously, “You’re acting weird.”

They all stare at him sighing deeply, clearly in a huff. They all look at each other questioningly, unsure of what to do. Yoongi, who noticed the reason for his sudden outburst, chuckles at his friend’s reaction.

“Y/n was in that elevator.” Yoongi simply states.

When the members hear Namjoon groan ashamed they grow quiet, realising what they had done. That is, until they all erupt in deafening howls.

“Oh my god,” Hoseok cries on the floor from too much laughter, “She probably thinks Joonie got the poo all over his trousers or something.”

If Namjoon thought he would get the members’ sympathy, he was dead wrong.

‣

He shivers at the memory. You may hate him and think he smells like dog faeces, but he’s determined to talk to you. He will track you down. He will find you. He will-

“Joon-ah.” Yoongi calls out, concerned about his friend’s stillness “the fuck is wrong with you? You’re scaring everyone”

“I’m out for blood, hyung.” He says giving a quick glance at his surroundings before staring back at the drink in front of him.

“Yah, why do you care so much? It’s been weeks, stupid.” Yoongi shakes his head, already knowing what was clouding his thoughts.

Why does he care so much? Pft. What kind of question is that? Why does he care? Oh. Why do I care? He wonders. He looks up at his hyung, who was waiting for his answer. 

When Yoongi realises the younger couldn’t answer, it was easy for him to guess the real reason. Throughout his 10 years of knowing Namjoon he has never seen him so distressed about someone. Yoongi feels like he gets whiplash whenever he steps into the building with him, getting sick of the unneeded paranoia seeping out of his bandmate. Hyung, what if we run into her? You know what, I don’t care if we do. Oh my God is that her? He feels himself loose brain cells from the mere mention of her. It’s so obvious that Namjoon has developed a slight infatuation for the girl, no matter how much he tries to deny it when the others tease him about it. All Yoongi can think is how much he wants to meet this intern that leeches on the leader’s mind.

The older one chuckles and says walking away, “you’re lucky you’re famous, this would’ve been a restraining order against you if you were any less good looking.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

He decides not to fret about it. Abruptly standing up from the chair, it flips over. Realising people around him are staring, his cheeks flush. The man messily puts it back up and strides away with the beverage in hand like a man on a mission.

Striding in the direction of your floor, he breathes out to himself with a playful smirk, “Your little legs can’t run away from me any longer, y/n.”

‣

You’ve been trying okay?

After the realisation of your feelings, you decided you should try and stop your habit of running away. Giving it some thought, you realised that trying to avoid him meant that you saw him less. And that made you :( You also realised that when you see him around, he doesn’t seem like he will go up and try to speak to you anymore, which also makes you :( He has probably given up. Makes sense. It has been a month and you did make a mean comment about him smelling weird, when it wasn’t even his fault.

But maybe it’s for the best. It isn’t like your crush is going to go somewhere. This is Namjoon. Kim Namjoon. Literally millions of guys and girls would kill to just breathe the same air as him, never mind have him fall for them. You should be happy with the fact you can see him most days. Even though you do run from the mere sight of him. But, anyways!

It was a new week and the perfect time to enforce your new goals. You were feeling pretty good, humming as you sit down at your desk, ready for a days work ahead.

“Intern.” you look up from your desk and see your boss. Immediately, you stand up and bow.

“Good morning.” You greet politely.

“Thank you, you can sit down. I’ve been noticing that these days you are really stepping up your game so I just wanted to praise you.” She says stoically and you’re in shock. Is she okay? “And,  want you to help on one of the upcoming projects.”

“M-me?” You stutter out in disbelief.

“Yes, you. Don’t make me repeat myself, Intern. Joowon will keep you updated for the project.” She scolds and starts to head for the door but she stops midway and looks at you once more, “Keep up the good work.”

Trying hard to sustain your smile, you get back to previewing the reports in front of you. Did Mrs Lee of all people really just praise you? You? Guess the colour coding won her over, you think to yourself.

When Daeun texts you to come down and meet her for lunch, you get up from your desk and make your way to the canteen with an evident spring in your step.

Down the corridor you see a familiar figure walking towards your direction, you halt your steps automatically. Oh shit, here we go again. You think to yourself, giggling for a millisecond at your joke. Okay, straight face. You can do this y/n! 

Breathing in a deep breath, you start walking forwards. 

A step.

Taking a quick glance at him, you curse yourself: who gave him the right to look that good? He’s dressed in some brown overalls and a jumper. All you can think about is how adorable he looks but also how he manages to look hot at the same time. Like, damn is that even possible- Fuck, focus on the task at hand you dumb bitch.

A step.

You meekly look at him again and you meet eyes. But he looks so pretty. Your heart starts racing again. Slightly daunted from the attention, you look down at your feet with a bashful smile on your face. He looks at you in shock.

A step.

What the fuck? Okay. This wasn’t part of the plan. Namjoon’s brain shouts. He thinks his eyes are deceiving him or something. You’re voluntarily walking towards him? Him? The dog poo man? Cool. Cool. That’s cool. Deep breath. 

A step.

You know what? This is good! This actually makes his plan easier. He encourages in his head. When you’re in front of him he will just casually hand you the drink and say sorry or say hi or whatever. It’ll be fine. He assures himself, his grip on the iced drink tightening slightly in anticipation. 

Just a few more steps...

One more step.

Your shoulders slightly brush as you walk past each other and you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief because Hell yeah you just did that. Thank God. Now you can get on with your day in peace.

Another step.

Fucking abort the mission. He panics, scared he’s lost his chance. No, do it, you pussy. Bitch, I’m scared. His mind races. Is he just gonna let you go? This might not ever happen again. Namjoon decides fuck it. He inhales deeply. Let’s just improvise.

Before turning around, he musters up a deep suave voice, “Hey.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turn around and look at his back, stunned. Uh, this wasn’t in the plan.

It’s as if the next few seconds move in slow motion.

Namjoon thought, at the last second, it would be impressive to do those cool things where you see him turn around slowly, like those scenes in the movies. So he does just that.

As he turns around, you hear him start, “This is for y-” He stops himself when he stumbles. Everything goes still.

Oh my fucking God. You scream to yourself.

Oh my fucking God. Namjoon screams in his head.

It wasn’t until you fully feel the cold liquid seep through your blouse that you both think at the same time. What the fuck!?

“Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuckedy Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He freaks out, moving towards you, attempting the dry the mess off of you, “I didn’t mean it, I was just supposed to just give it to you. I’m an idiot, I’m sorry.”

You freeze, trying to process what was happening. You look down at Namjoon, who was slightly bent over and using sweater paws of his jumper to pat you dry. Your heart quickening its’ pace at the sudden intimacy.

Amidst the chaos, Namjoon looks up at your shell-shocked face and you both make eye contact again. He notices how soft your hair looks. He notices how pretty your lips are. The idol slows down his actions until it comes to an halt. Too busy bathing in your stunning eyes to continue.

His heart starts pounding faster.

Slowly, you look further down, your face getting pale at the feeling. He follows your movement, his face suddenly turning red when he realises:

He’s groping your boobs.

As if he touched fire, he swats his hands away, “I’m so sorry. I’m not a pervert, I swear!” He shouts moving his face sideways to expect a slap, “I was just trying to dry you. I’m sorry! You can hit me if you want, I deserve it.” 

He stops talking when he hears it. You’re laughing. He meets your eyes again, noticing how your face fills up with amusement. He takes a mental note of how gorgeous you are when you laugh. Your smile is contagious.

“Well, I guess we’re now even, Kim Namjoon.” You announce, he freezes, liking the way his name comes off his lips.

You review his astonished face with a look of fondness in your eyes, thinking he’s just baffled. Taking advantage of his frozen state, “If you excuse me, I’m gonna go clean myself up.”

You leave him in the middle of the corridor, an image of you smiling engraved in his brain and coffee splattered on the floor. He lets out a gigantic smile. 

Well that went better than expected.

‣

taglist: @alinerl​ @kim-jias-den​ @657mg​ @jinjccns​

a/n: hi again! thank you for reading, i hope you liked it!

[1zashreena1]

Princess and the Migraine -7

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: When Princess needs his help Murder Panther undergoes a trial by fire and comes out soft and gooey. Like a marshmallow. A really sexy, highly dangerous marshmallow.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and 'the code is more like guidelines' outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

NO SMUT, usage of names, mild groping (he’s still Diego), illness and medical establishments, plus size woman+fit man, secretly competent Diego!, helpless Princess, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings... I mean, its DIEGO

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I'm not a fan of "plot" so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​​ @symbiont13​​ @nicke0115​​ @bunnykjm​​ @rosee-sensuelle​​ @girlpornparadise​​ @mandoplease​​ @heresathreebee​​ @xxsteph-enrixx​​ @jetiikad​​ @joalsglasses​​ @mutantcookiesecrets​​ @demoncatstone​​ @squidlywiddly87​​ @lockedoutofmyotherblog​ @poeedamerons​

gif by @nicke0115​

Diego had received the normal text from his Princess, a simple and efficient 'here' attached to a selfie. This Friday the selfie was in his bed, that mane of ringlets tossed up over the pillow and those deep blue eyes half closed in relaxation. There was nothing sexual about it, hell, he couldn't even see her lips, and it still made him half hard. What if I could see that every day? In person, right next to her? I must convince her to quit that stupid little job.

Groaning softly, he flips the phone to be held horizontally in his left hand while the right presses the heel of his palm into his burgeoning erection. He cannot wait to bury himself into that soft little body; fingers, tongue, dick, anything. She is the softest woman he has ever touched, even her tiny little feet are soft, it is maddening. He slouches down into the backseat to relieve some of the pressure from his pants.

"You want me to stop anywhere, boss?" Bastian asks from the driver's seat. Bastian is a good kid, he follows orders, he is efficient, he even anticipates needs like this, offering to get food on the way home. He looks nothing like his uncle. Julio always did say that his little sister liked blondes and Bastian was living proof.

"No, I will see what she wants to do first." Diego wants to get his hands on Princess more than he wants food.

Julio chuckles from the front seat, "His dinner is already at home, eh?" He's been with Diego for twenty years, he knows how this goes down.

"One can only hope." Diego mutters as he flips through the 'Pretty Princess' photo album in the phone's gallery. Sure, there are the expected compromising pictures (much to his delight, she enjoys posing seductively at any level of undress), but many are shots of her laughing, being excited at a new restaurant, snuggled into his side at some scenic location perfect for a couples' pic.

A couple. Is that what they are? Does he want that? (Yes) Can I have that? (I will).  He hasn't wanted any of what used to be his regular girls in… six months. Sure, Franchesca and, and whatever-her-face-is accompanied him to some club events, he even let Franchesca blow him in the car. But it wasn't until he closed his eyes and saw another gaze, drowning blue and dark as ink, that he came. Vocally. Franchesca at least knew better than to comment. That was the last time.

He wants this. He wants Princess. His Princess. How, he has no idea, but he assumes he'll figure it out. He has figured out how to survive his sister and his profession all the way to age 42. He has figured it out so far and he has no plans to stop now. 

That book about relationships and autism spectrum really helped, maybe there are other similar books that he can get. Is there a book on how to get women to admit feelings? There has to be a book on something so… unusual, yes?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The elevator dings and he steps out before the doors are fully open. The common area is dark and quiet. "Princess?" He calls. Nothing.

Maybe she is still in the bed waiting for me. The image throws him into rapid motion; the jacket is tossed over the back of the sofa and he pulls the gun out of his belt to place it on the breakfast bar as he passes by. With huge strides, he hurdles up the stairs and into the bedroom. 

The small lamp on the nightstand is at the lowest setting, turned to a faint aqua color. She does love fiddling with the ridiculous color options. Her bag is on the floor in front of the closet along with her purse, shoes, and a trail of clothing to the bed.. Odd, she always places everything just so. Never just, just dropped… anywhere.

 Princess is in the bed… but she is asleep. 

Diego pushes his shoes off and pads over to her side of the bed. Her glasses are on the nightstand and next to them the gemstone ring he gave her is threaded onto one of the diamond tennis bracelet for safekeeping. It makes him smile, how thoughtfully she cares for his gifts.

"Princess?" She winces at his soft rumble and cracks one eye open. "What's wrong?" He reaches out to touch her hair and she flinches away. Ouch, what the hell?

She holds out a hand, he takes that instead. "Baby?" Her voice is so quiet he can barely hear her. Something is very wrong. 

Kneeling to the floor, Diego rests his chin on the bed directly in front of her face and waits. He has learned that if it's something physical that is bothering her he can simply wait her out. Each time that he has tried this it resulted in a shorter wait period the next time and a less agitated Princess. He's not sure if he is training her or if maybe it's the other way around.

Her fingers curl around his thumb, small but strong. Finally, she opens her mouth, "I have a migraine. Was fine earlier, but police lights. On whatever bridge. We sat for like ten minutes, Bastian couldn't get out of the traffic. I took medicine, but I need to sleep." She pauses, her eyes closed tightly and brow furrowed. Her breathing is shallow, like she is trying very hard not to cry. "I'm sorry, baby." She whimpers, and then a real tear does escape.

"No no no, Princess. No crying. Please do not." The absolute last thing Diego can deal with today is that pretty little face all red and messy with tears. She sniffles but doesn't move away when he wipes the tears with his thumbs. Those blue eyes are watching him very closely.

"Are--" she licks her lips and tries again, "Are you mad at me?" Her high voice cracks at the end and she blinks back more tears. Apprehension is coming off of her in waves.

Diego cocks his head, trying to understand where this question comes from. "You… think I will be mad at you for being ill?" Slowly, he leans closer to her while she nods tightly with a tiny 'mm hmm' of affirmation. When she huddles into herself, almost hiding under the covers, understanding begins to bloom. "Have other people gotten mad at you for becoming ill?"

Princess swallows hard, her eyes slide away from his. She is embarrassed. Someone has managed to shame her into feeling guilty about a hereditary illness she has no control over. He can feel rage climbing up inside his chest.

"Y-y-yeah. It's really inconvenient. I ruin p-plans like this. I'm sorry." Her voice is muffled by the covers. She picks at the stitching on the sheet, snapping her nail back and forth over the threads in a nervous tic.

Right now, I am doing the training because this needs to be broken. Immediately. He takes a deep breath, "No, Princess. No one can be mad at you for suffering from a condition you cannot control. That is ridiculous. I could never be angry at you for getting sick." He tries very hard to sound soothing and not like he's about to reprimand a ludicrous child. Slowly, he pulls the sheet down until her entire face is visible. Her eyes flick back to him, then away again. "Aqui." She obeys the command thoughtlessly, locking on his gaze. Diego raises a brow in question.

Princess huffs a soft sigh, then whispers, "Okay." Her face smooths out, eyebrows straightening and lips relaxing back to their normal fullness. Her little nose even unwrinkles as she eases. She must decide she buys it, because next she timidly asks, "Will you bring me a Coke?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diego gets her settled with her phone (which he silences) and the small bottle of Coke (opened downstairs so the noise doesn't hurt her). When she pulled herself upright to drink he realized she was still dressed so he got her into pajamas, it was odd putting clothing onto her instead of taking it off. She kept her eyes closed and allowed him to move her around like a ragdoll, relaxed and trusting.

The tightness in his chest only worsened when she crawled into his lap and nuzzled into him with a plaintive, "Hold me." Princess wasn't really a cuddly type of girl, so he knew this was bad. After ten minutes she was done with the 'mushy stuff' as she referred to it. He let her get situated then went downstairs with instructions to check on her in two hours.

Diego spent the time researching migraines, her medication, and other possible treatments. Julio came and went with dinner, cheesesteaks that Princess had mentioned long before the police strobe lights. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The required two hours have passed, Diego swears it was two days long, so he heads upstairs to check on her. Princess is on her stomach, head turned to the left, and her mouth hanging open. His hand lands softly on her shoulder while he calls her, "Princess?" 

Nothing happens.

He tries again, just a little louder, "Princess? Hey, mirame."  Still no response. She is a light sleeper, this is highly unusual. And he is beginning to be concerned. 

Diego nudges her shoulder, then, when he gets nothing, pushes until she rolls over. She doesn't even make a sound. Shit. Shit shit shit. 

"Hey! Bicki! Wake up, come on." Her lashes flutter and she makes a whiny noise. Sitting on the bed, he hauls her into his lap so she leans back against his left arm. Tapping her cheek with his right hand gets a semi-verbal response.

"Dieg.. Where. I'm. Can't." She slurs and burrows into his chest. "Too brigh. Is brigh." Her voice is so quiet he can barely understand her. Her tiny hands are fisted in his shirt, hanging on for dear life. 

He grips her jaw in his right hand and turns her head to face him. "Princess? Can you tell me?" She's struggling through his name, like her tongue is too big for her mouth. "Yes, it's me. It's your Diego. We're home, in bed. You're safe." Her brow furrows as she processes this information. It takes three times longer than it should, he hasn't seen anyone this fucked up in a long time. Its terrifying. 

Finally, her hands in his shirt ease their grip and she looks around the room. "Diego?" She is squinting hard, blinking slowly.

"Right here, Princess." Turning her to face him, he can see that her eyes are completely unfocused, pupils so small they're barely visible in a sea of grayish blue. Her hands come up to touch his face and she makes a tiny noise of distress.

"Baby. Can't see. I can't." Her whisper fades as she goes limp, eyes rolling up. Her breathing stays even, if shallow, so he doesn't panic. Yet. She said she does this, that she will black out. Her whole family does it. Her sisters, her niece, her mom… HER MOM. 

Hit by sudden inspiration, Diego whips around to her phone on the nightstand and snatches it up. Her mom. Her mom would know what to do, right? Easing her deadweight back to the bed, he makes sure she is breathing easily, then turns back to her phone. He unlocks her cell with his left hand while digging his out of his right pocket. There, at the top of her contacts labeled 'Emergency', Mom. Dad. Diego. He ignores the sharp flutter in his chest at seeing himself as her emergency contact, and opens up the Mom item. Before he can second guess himself, he taps in the number in on his own phone and hits the green button. She better know who I am or this is going to be a disaster. 

It rings twice before a remarkably similar voice answers, "Hello?"

Shit, now what?

"Hello, is, is this Kat?" Fuck. Shit. Damnit Diego.

"Yes…?" It really is startling how similar their voices are.

"I do not know if you know who I am, my name is Diego and I--"

"Diego! Ohhh, I know who you are." She laughs lowly, just like Princess. He notes the fact that she recognizes him instantly for later discussion.

"I apologize for calling like this, but I need your help." He tries not to sound scared. He does not get scared.

"What's wrong? Is she okay? Are you okay?" Apparently he failed. Her mom, Kat, knows instantly that something is amiss.

"She said she had a migraine and took her medicine. Now, I cannot get her to wake up fully and she keeps repeating that she can't see. I don't know what to do, I've never seen her like this. Please." It all comes out in a rush, he hopes she can understand his rapidly thickening accent.

"Okay, first of all, take a deep breath." Do I sound that panicked? Should I be panicked?!? "This isn't that unusual for her more severe migraines. As long as she keeps breathing. Is her breathing fairly normal?"

He watches her chest rise and fall at regular intervals. "I, err, yes? It's a bit fast, but even." 

"Good. That's good, Diego. She is not going to like this, but you have to take her to the ER."

"Okay. I can do that. Yes."  Wait, what do you do when you take someone to the ER?

"Okay, listen. You have to tell them that she's had these since she was a kid. She takes the highest tablet dosage of imitrex, tell them what time she took it. She needs the shots, yes she has had them before, no drug allergies. Under no circumstances do you tell them that she blacked out or they will admit her. Also, no chance of pregnancy, they'll ask that. If they think she might be pregnant then they won't treat her."

THEY WHAT.

"What do you mean? Won't give her the shots? If she might be pregnant? What shots?" Diego is very confused. This is a lot of information in a very short time and all of it is very important. Why would that matter?

"Hospitals will not give medications to pregnant women. Only tylenol, generally. And that isn't going to help." Her mom sounds like this topic has been thoroughly debated in their household. 

"Okay. No pregnancy. No black out. Have been having these her whole life, need shots, have had those before. I have the bottle of ...imitrex? I should take it along?" He ticks each item off on a mental list. "Actually, could you text all of... that?" He most definitely does not want them to admit her.

"Of course. And taking the bottle is perfect, that's quick thinking. What time did she take it?"

What time did she take that?? She had already taken it when he got home. "Sometime before seven…? Yes. Between six and seven."

"One last thing, I want you to be prepared. Its two shots, a sedative and a pain medication, but they'll put it in her butt."

That's… interesting. "In her butt?? She won't even let me put something in her butt." He mutters petulantly.

Her mom is sputtering with laughter. "Oh, I see why this relationship works. Wow. This is perfect."

"Err, is there anything else? I've never been to an ER, so. Um." Something about the way she sounds just like Princess puts him at ease, like he doesn't need to worry about impressing her.

"No. I'll text you the list after we hang up. Just let me know how she is tomorrow, okay? I know you'll take care of her, Diego."

"Yes, I will. Thank you." He ends the call and texts Julio to get up here now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ER is pandemonium and Princess is extremely unhappy to be there. She is curled into his side, trying to hide from the noise and the light, while Bastian fills out forms for her. Julio thought to bring her purse, it was a very good idea since her entire identity is in there. When Bastian hands over the forms to the desk the nurse sees Princess's hospital work badge in his hand with her ID and she magically shoots to the top of the waitlist. 

The nurses come to take her into the back, they bring her a wheelchair which she grumbles about but goes willingly when Diego pushes her into the seat. He wants to go with her, but he isn't family. If this were anyone else he would do whatever he wants, but this is his Princess. The thought of breaking her trust by violating her privacy is unbearable, anything like this has never been discussed. 

They barely disappear around the corner before a nurse comes right back.

"Alright. Which one is Diego? She will not shut up and she will not calm down. Come with me." The nurse grabs his arm and practically drags him for a few steps until his longer legs catch up. 

They go into a curtained room where one nurse is trying to manhandle yoga pants down well-rounded hips and another is opening prefilled syringes. Princess is swiping at the unfamiliar hands on her body, unbalanced and jumpy. Little noises of fear escape from her lips in high pitches, her head is down and her eyes are closed tightly against the florescent lighting. Diego suddenly remembers that she can't see. She is terrified.

"Princess?" The second he touches her with one hand she dives into him. Her own little hands claw into his shirt and she tries to mold her body to his. "I'm here. You're safe." Wrapping arms around her, he holds her still tightly. She nods against his chest and relaxes a tiny bit. 

The nurse with the syringes looks pointedly at Princess's butt, then back up at him. Oh. Right. Sliding one hand down her back, he inserts fingers into the back of her pants and eases the elastic waistband down. "Its just me," he whispers into her hair as she trembles in his hold. The strong muscles of her butt twitch, but she doesn't fight him. She trusts me. 

Its over in under five seconds, both shots and both bandaids, one set on each side. She jumps with each injection but can't seem to process what happened fast enough to respond appropriately. 

The nurse doesn't even bother to look up from cleaning the table. "Okay, take her home and put her to bed. She'll sleep for the next eight hours." 

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "That's it?"

"Yep, thanks for your help." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Princess succumbs to the sedative halfway home and Diego has to carry her to bed. She really does sleep for most of Saturday. He keeps going in to check on her, she is completely limp and doesn't change position once. Its a bit disturbing how helpless she is like this. Has she had to do this alone before? Or, worse yet, with the awful ex?

He stays right beside her after that.

When she finally wakes her eyes are normal again and she immediately reaches out for him. "Diego?"

Her little question makes him smile warmly. 

"Right here, Princess. Welcome back."  He rumbles softly, unsure if sound still hurts her. Stroking one hand down her back makes her arch up into his caress. So beautiful. 

She squints up at him through the curtain of her hair. Slowly, Princess rises to all fours, then eases back to sit. "I…" she blinks at him. "I have to pee." 

Okay, so awake but not totally coherent yet. She requires a little assistance in the bathroom, mostly a steady arm to lean on, but they manage it with only mild to moderate giggles and one bruise-inducing bump to the corner of the counter. 

She stumbles back to bed, collapses face down, sticks her left arm out in his general direction, and wiggles fingers at him then back at herself.

"Take the stupid bandaids off. Shit itches."

Oh yes, finally time to touch the butt.

Diego sits on the bed beside her, one hip pressed up against her own. He firmly strokes both hands down her back just to hear her deep moan of pleasure. She arches up when he reaches the curve of her ass. Oh good, she is feeling better. Fuck that, she feels amazing, he chuckles at his own joke but doesn't pause in gently groping her. The silky panties slide easily over her cheeks, the sight makes his mouth water. The pale skin is only marred by the bandaids, so he pulls them both off in rapid succession then smooths fingers over the red marks. 

"Mmmmm," she moans with the gentle treatment, "Thank you for taking care of me. That's the first time someone other than my parents did that for me. How did you know to take me to the ER, anyway?" Her voice is muffled in the pillow, soft and sleepy and content.

Diego absent-mindedly runs a finger down the crack of her ass, feather light. "Your mom told me what to do when I called her."

"YOU CALLED MY MOM?!?!"

Judging by her volume, apparently no, sound does not hurt her anymore.

[whenitcounts33]

last name (1)

Summary: When Alice and Bella dragged Rose to Vegas to celebrate graduation, Rose never imagined anything actually happening like in the movies. Then she wakes up the morning before they leave, married to the very good looking man from the bar. 

Rose bit her lip, cringing when the plane's wheels touched down on the tarmac and sent up a thank-you to whatever God was listening. Flying was the worst way to travel in her book and she hoped she could talk Alice and Bella into letting her drive back to Seattle. She knew it wasn't likely, but a girl could dream. 

Alice turned around in her seat to grin at Rose, earning a grimace from her best friend. Bella, sitting next to Rose, rolled her eyes and elbowed the blonde playfully. "It wasn't that bad, Ro," she said with a smile. 

Rose glowered and held out her hand to show Bella the half-moon marks her nails left in her palms. "Over-dramatic," Bella said helpfully, making Rose snort. She was right, of course, but Rose wouldn't admit it. 

"Maybe," she allowed, standing up when prompted and stretching her arms above her head. "I'm just glad Bella's bad luck didn't strike the plane down." Bella glared at her, and at Alice when she laughed, muttering "har har" under her breath.

They made their way off the plane and to the luggage claim, Alice chattering a mile a minute about their plans. "Check-in at the hotel is at 11:30 and we have reservations for dinner at 6," she paused for breath, cheeks pink with excitement. "Tomorrow we have a date with the strip and sight-seeing. Dinner at 6 again." 

Rose gave a non-committal hum, grabbing her bag when she saw it. Alice and Bella grabbed theirs and Alice grabbed onto both of them, towing them along towards the automatic doors of the exit. 

The awfully hot air of the dessert hit her in the face like a brick and Rose immediately started to sweat. "Why did we have to come here again?" She demanded as they waited for the large family ahead of them to get into the minivan taxi waiting at the curb. 

Alice gave her a glare that would have sent a weaker person running but Rose was used to her and just glared back. "You are going to have fun Rosalie Hale, or so help me," she warned, a small finger poking into Rose's chest. "We are finally finished with school and we are going to celebrate!" 

Rose fought back a small smile, and nodded for Alice's benefit. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, brushing Alice away with a flick of her wrist. 

Bella watched them with a small smile, amused by their antics and knowing nothing Rose said or did would change the plans. Alice was a force to be reckoned with and Bella, and Rose, knew to just lay back and let Hurricane Alice go down it's path. Though that never stopped Rose from teasing her best friend when she got a tad bit out of control and or enthusiastic. 

The hotel was a block away from the strip and two nightclubs, huge and intimidating with the bright lights and people streaming in and out. Rose welcomed the AC with a sigh of relief, letting the cold air raise goosebumps on her arms and shoulders. She fluffed out her hair, wincing at the sweat wetting it and the back of her neck. "Couldn't have picked out a cooler climate, Al?" She asked, already knowing the answer. "Like maybe the Antarctic?" 

Alice ignored her, stomping towards the front desk, mumbling under her breath about ungrateful friends and how they are traitors that don't know how to have a good time. 

The lobby was huge, with shops and restaurants and big flat screen TVs with couches and armchairs everywhere. Rose thought it was too much, but what did she know of interior design? 

Bella was watching her, a crease over her brown eyes and a frown on her lips. It was a look she got every time Rose and Alice butted heads. Or when her boyfriend, Edward, was being melodramatic and over the top. Which was all the time. 

"Just try to have fun," Bella told her, tugging on a lock of Rose's hair with a smile. "Alice really wants to do this and it won't hurt to have a small vacation, just us girls." Rose sighed, knowing Bella was right, and nodded. "I'll try," she promised, letting Bella tug her towards the front desk where Alice was. 

It's not that she didn't want to have a girls-vacation, Rose was just really excited, and anxious, to start her new job. She fought so hard for this, to show the men that she deserved a spot in the "boys club" of mechanics. She wanted to show them that she could be just as good, better even, than all of them combined. 

The room, a suite really, was quite nice. Bigger than her whole apartment, and better furnished. She dropped onto the large bed with a sigh and spread out her arms and legs so she took up the whole mattress. It felt heavenly against her body and the sheets smelled like lavender. She could hear Bella and Alice walking around, oohing and aww-ing at everything. 

She sat up after a moment, blinking to wake herself back up. They could see the strip from the balcony, the light and signs dazzling and hard to miss. She missed Seattle, with it's muted colors and smaller buildings. She missed her small apartment and the diner two blocks away with the amazing coffee and omelets. 

"Get a grip, Rose," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. No need to feel home-sick, she'd be back home in four-days, all snuggled up in her own bed. She watched Bella look at herself in the mirror in the bathroom, pursing her lips and shaking out her hair. Alice was somewhere in the living room, stuffing luggage under the coffee table. 

"We can stay in the hotel for now, then leave at 5:20 to get to the restaurant." Alice was saying, now in the bathroom and putting all their toiletries in a neat little line for later use. "I wanna see the little boutique they have in the lobby," Bella interjected, sitting on the bed next to Rose. "It was cute," Rose agreed, shrugging. She wouldn't buy anything though, knowing stores in hotels always over charged everything and Rose did not want this trip to put a considerable gap in her bank account. 

Her father made good money as a banker, but they were a middle-class family, not rich by any means but far from poor. Her mom came from nothing though and instilled it in her daughter to always make sure she had enough money to live off of in her accounts, no matter what happened. She raised Rose to appreciate every check and every coin. Rose lived by that rule and tried to never spend money on anything that she didn't truly need. Alice, who came from old money and never had to worry, always laughed when she heard that, but Bella, who was raised on a one-parent income, understood better than any of their other friends. 

"Boutique it is," Alice said, standing in front of them like a little tyrant, hands on her hips and a determined tilt to her head. 

On the third day Rose openly admitted that the trip had been a good idea and that Alice was right. Alice had made Rose repeat it all with her phone trained on her face as she was recorded. "For the next time we argue and you say I'm never right," is what Alice had said to justify it. Rose, tipsy and easily agreeable, had laughed and hugged Alice, thanking her for forcing her to Vegas. 

They were at a nightclub a few blocks from the hotel, hips swaying to the music and alcohol running through their veins. Rose felt warm, like someone had lit a match and set her blood on fire. It was a good warmth, one that started in her chest and went through her arms to her fingertips, down her chest and into her legs. Her head felt fuzzy and everything was bright and loud, calling to her like a siren song to keep on dancing and drinking. 

She could feel someone watching her, the hair on the back of her neck standing up and the skin erupting in goosebumps. Her adrenaline spiked, unbidden memories bubbling up to the surface and she turned slowly, nails digging into her skin hard enough to hurt.

There were so many people in the club that it took her a minute to see who her watcher was. She finally found him, standing at the bar, tall and built like a line-backer, all hard muscle with a handsome face. The fact that he was so handsome did not quell her fear, it made it worse because pretty boys knew they could get away with more. It made them cruel. 

The guy flushed, fair cheeks turning pink, when his eyes met hers and he realized he'd been caught staring. Rose watches him look away, biting his lower lip. His dark curls are sweaty, flopping down onto his forehead and sticking to the back of his neck. It makes her feel safer when he doesn't try to come over to her or stare at her again. She tells herself that he had just been spaced-out, merely looking in her direction, not at her. Lord knows she's done that plenty of times. 

She tells herself later that it was the alcohol, not him being not creepy, that moves her feet over to him. Through the throng of people, away from the safety of her friends who don't notice her leave, and towards the giant of a man. 

The smell of alcohol is stronger there, sharp and bitter and mixing with the salty tang of sweat, and her nose wrinkles against it. The guy turns his head to look at her when he notices a new person. His eyes are brown, reminding her of the forest surrounding Washington, and he has a very nice smile. Her heart flutters in response and she gives him a small smile back. 

"I'm Emmett and I am sorry for being a creep and staring at you. My Ma taught me better," he says, voice smooth like honey and deep. He has a Southern twang that makes his words rise and fall in weird places, but Rose likes it. "If you wanna hit me, that's perfectly fine ma'am, I can take it," he adds before Rose can say anything. He stands up straight, arms at his side like a soldier. He's so tall he's half a head over her five-foot-eight and she feels small near him, which she likes more than she thought she would. 

Rose let out a snort and he looked down at her so quickly he must have gotten whiplash. "I'm Rose and I won't hit you, my mom taught me better than that," she says, voice equals parts playful and haughty. 

He gives her a slow grin and her stomach flips itself at the same time her heart skyrockets. So pretty her mind whispered, noting how the smile makes his eyes crinkle and how the left side of his mouth rises higher than the right. 

"Well Rose," he says, and she tries to ignores the way his mouth wraps around her name, how pretty it sounds in that Southern twang. "Looks like I'll have to make it up to you in some other way." 

The way he says it is dangerous, like some dark promise he's bound to keep. But Rose isn't afraid. Not of Emmett, who thinks highly of his mom, who smiles with his whole being and blushes when he looks her right in the eye. 

So Rose smiles, and stands up to her full height so she can better look him in the eye. "Looks like it," she murmurs, and commits the happy gleam in his eyes to memory. 

[hydemind]

Your thoughts on Isaac, William, Frankie an Jack 🎤?

OHHHHHH CROW I COULD GO ON ABOUT THEM FOR HOURS.

this post is SUPER FUCKING LONG so for the first time in my life im using a read more link.

I'm gonna start out with Will, who, a little fun fact, isn't actually named William! His full name is Willis Grossman. His parents thought it'd be funny. Will doesn't know his full name.

Here are some other fun facts about me and @functionentropy 's Will (along with other characters below) (he is also the one who has been making this entire creepypasta interp with me! Go check out their art or else /lh):

Will was born in the late 1800s early 1900s!

His parents were a lot like a Bonnie and Clyde duo, and they cared and loved for Will very, very much.

Will always looked up to Isaac! He wanted to be exactly like his grandpa when he grew up. Isaac was also a wonderful grandfather as well.

Will, on his 13th birthday, got Isaac's mask as a gift. When he got it, Isaac said to him: "keep it safe. It's a family heirloom.", Will uses that excuse as to why he still wears it to this day.

Speaking of Isaac, he's the underrealm equivalent to a tumblr sexyman. Everyone thinks he's hot shit, but that also goes for a lot of serial killers residing in the underrealm. Will unfortunately had to see his grandfather on magazine covers talking about the underrealm's HOTTEST NEW KILLER. He hates it.

Will ran away from home after Isaac died at around the age of 20 to 21, and considering he was a legal adult, his parents couldn't do much. They're still looking for him. (How, you may ask? Well, a little thing about the underrealm is that it stunts growth. You're essentially unable to die of old age down there. Think shitty immortality. His parents are looking for him, and they know he's in the underrealm- so that's how they are still around!)

Will had the worst time in the underrealm for the first few years he was down there. He wasn't immediately enrolled in the institution and he had a hard time holding down a job. Eventually he met Frankie! They live(d) in an apartment together. The first time Frankie met Will he thought he was Isaac and told his landlord and him HELL NO. Frankie does not like Isaac. Cue [will's offended gasp] and him saying he's his GRANDSON, and WHY IS HE ACTING LIKE ISAAC SUCKED? Cue Frankie making fun of him for being a grandpa's boy.

Frankie and Will had a bumpy relationship for a while. Will wasn't always a good person. Not really bad, just a fucking dumbass.

Speaking of Frankie...

Here's stuff about Frankie!

Frankie's origin story is essentially the same in this interp. Except for the fact that Frankie very much HAD A PAST. (which. If u wanna know more........I would love to talk about it......but this is about CURRENT Frankie so if u wanna know more bro just pop up in my dms or send another ask im feeling wild tonight)

After Amy passed (which was NOT due in part to the operator in this universe. The operator just found her like that) he was found by Bell (prince beelzebub, ruler of the underrealm at that point). You should know Frankie wasn't always an adjusted and normal fuckin person. He was like a rabid dog for a good while there.

While Frankie was unhinged he fucking death rolled Daisy the first time they met. (Daisy is an oc! I'm willing to talk more about him if you want the deets. He's interesting :]) because of this Daisy is the only one allowed to openly make fun of Frankie. (Playfully, of course.)

Daisy and Bell both basically helped Frankie adjust to society.

Frankie is autistic! So is Will. And Isaac. All. Everyone. Everyone has autism. (Shhhh. i'm projecting.)

Frankie can see souls! He's a very good judge of character because of it. However Frankie doesn't know what he's seeing is people's souls.

Frankie goes specifically after bad people. He'll take jobs from bad people, but he'll kill them, too. He says "he's sending them back to where they belong".

Frankie was the first to really show Will killing isn't just something you do. It's more than that. Will had never really processed death and murder of his fellow man like that before. He has a hard time even processing people as people sometimes, outside those of whom he cares for. This is because of Isaac. Isaac taught Will that people are bad- all of them. And that killing them is preventing them from hurting others, even if they haven't yet.

Frankie is a good guy and honestly a softie deep down. He worries and cares for all those who are close to him, even if he doesn't act like it sometimes.

Frankie says Toby "kidnapped him" and "made him diseased". 1. Frankie can very much leave the household at any time and 2. Frankie is referring to the operator sickness. Speaking of that-

Frankie was dragged through the operator's own personal hell! (Aka the realm they reside in more often than not, aka the place that Tim gets tossed around in near the end of marble hornets.) Reason being was because he threatened Toby's life. The operator is very protective of Toby.

Speaking of that, someone else was around when Toby met Frankie...

ONTO LAUGHING JACK!

ohhh man. Oh man. Oh baby. This clown is FULL of illness. Alright. So let's start off simple:

Lj was of course, made for Isaac. That's still a consistency. What isn't is that lj was around Isaac for a lot longer than in the original story. They developed a very close bond over the years they knew eachother, but, all good things must come to an end.

Lj returned to his box when Isaac left for boarding school. However, unlike the original story....Isaac didn't really come back to open the box. In fact, the most Isaac did was...well, I'll wait to spill that for Isaac's part later.

However! Eventually the house got passed off to another family. Years, and it mean YEARS later someone found lj's box in the attic! They were an unfortunate casualty.

After this, lj went and hunted Isaac down. Cue gore filled murder scene.

Things to note: LJ feels HORRIBLE about what he did to Isaac. He regrets it everyday. He wishes he had never done that to him.

But, time skip a bit.. we're further in the future now. LJ has his carnival set up and hidden away in an empty spot in the forest. He eventually comes across a wandering spirit because of this. This wanderer just so happens to be Sally!

LJ takes her in and swears to protect her with his life. In a way, you could say he sees her as a chance of redemption.

Sally was a wandering spirit, meaning she never really was stuck to one spot in particular- also meaning she wasn't very strong. Because of this, LJ gave her some of his own angelic essence. This boosted Sally and essentially made her a poltergeist!

(Note: Sally doesn't know how she died. Also, none of the things in her og story happened to her in this one. Fuck mishimishi. All my homies hate mishimishi.)

A little while after this they actually meet Toby and Jeffery! But this is getting long and to explain THAT entire debacle would make it even longer. but again I fully invite you to send more asks or just straight up dm me if you wanna know!

Now, last, but certainly not least..

ISAAC GROSSMAN.

OH MAN. Isaac is a DOOZY. Just like LJ, this baby is chocked FULL of illnesses! *slaps the top of his head like the roof of a car* but also, fair warning here: im gonna be talking about some heavy stuff. Abuse, physical and mental, gore, just. Death in general. Cannibalism, and EXTREME MENTAL ILLNESS *loud airhorn* so if any of that stuff gets to you steer clear of this part!

Anyways, let's start out simple!

Isaac was born in victorian England.

Isaac's mother was terrible towards him. I'm talking mental and physical abuse. She was a horrible, horrible woman.

Isaac's father...he wasn't a good person either, but he didn't beat Isaac. Nor did he really mentally abuse him either. He just...let it happen. He didn't even hurt his mother like he did in the original story. Isaac's mother was just plain bad for no good reason.

Isaac was sort of. Born having mental illness. They didn't just develop for him due to the abuse he experienced, though they certainly DID make it worse. There were other mental issues he has now that developed due to the abuse, however.

LJ was quite literally a godsend for Isaac. Metaphorically and not Metaphorically. LJ made Isaac happy, gave him comfort, and was basically like the mom he never had.

that's why it was so hard on Isaac when he had to leave lj behind. For a while he even had hallucinations of lj while in boarding school (which only furthered his future belief that lj was a hallucination brought on by the need to cope).

Isaac's first technical "murder" you could say was at boarding school. He pushed a shitty teacher down the stairs when there was no one around and they died. It wasn't even premeditated- more like it just sort of..happened.

Eventually Isaac graduated. When he did, he promptly returned home and killed his parents, as you do. /s

Isaac killed his mom in a rather violent fashion in comparison to his father- he whiplashed her so hard she fucking died.

Not long after this Isaac started his..well. I guess you could call it career.

Basically you know what happens after that. human skin chair, yadda yadda yadda, underrealm's sexiest killer, you know the drill.

Isaac did more than the human skin chair though! In fact, he uh. He. He did a lot. He did. SO much. But that was because Isaac believed in not wasting any part of the body. Which means Isaac not only made human skin chairs, but he was an avid cannibal, as well. (Fun fact, this very much extended to Will's father, mother, and Will as well. Will didn't know they were eating human for a long time. He had to realize that on his own.)

Eventually, Isaac punched his ticket because of LJ. But..I'd be a liar to say he really died.

No, our wonderful boy Isaac didn't die. He became a ghoul. Which, by the way, only further fucked with Isaac mentally! He's so ill. Some other things happened which I won't say here because they're spoilers for the fanfic I'm working on (Oh yeah the hyperfixation is that bad, but if you wanna know, again, I fully invite you to ask), but basically Isaac eventually gets taxidermied by, drumroll please..TOBY!!!! yeah. Toby does taxidermy as a job. He invited a new type of it for taxidermying Isaac. It was to repay daisy for something he did for the group.

But to say, again, that THAT was Isaac's end, would be another lie! No no no. Isaac was alive during the entire process! The good news is that he's never looked better after he escaped daisy's house when it got exploded by Frankie. Which..that's uh..another story for another day. This post is already insanely long and I am NOT putting it in the main tags.

So yeah! Im absolutely crazy for these dudes and I love all of them. By the way if you couldn't guess before Frankie and Will very much get together and are so so gay. Another little thing: Isaac is gay too, he had a past relationship with a man by the name of Dr. Locklear! Locklear is French German and his accent shows it. They were very close but fell out because of Locklear being involved with the institution and...a certain foundation.

I'll leave it to you to ponder on that one.

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

Everyone Loves Marinette Part 9

Here’s the next installment! Sorry it took so long!

To address the questions, yes, all the couples are together, but they also want Marinette too.

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML

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

If there was one thing Fang was known for, it was being spoiled. Jagged supposed he had himself to blame for that one, but Fang was so cute and scaly with big ol’ puppy eyes he couldn’t resist giving into the urge to shower him with attention.

Though right now Jagged was cursing his tendency to spoil the reptile.

“Come on, Fang. You gotta take the costume off. It stinks.” Jagged beckoned Fang, who was stubbornly hiding beneath a table where Jagged couldn’t get to him. The croc made a noise of protest, snuggling even further into his ham costume.

Jagged sighed, pulling out his phone to dial his trump card. He hoped he didn’t wake her up with how early it was, but he really needed to wash Fang’s costume and give him a bath. The reptile’s been wearing it for weeks!

“Hey! Sorry! Can you come over? I know it’s early but, well, Fang’s not taking off the costume you made for him again... Sure! Thanks—you’re the best!” Jagged ended the call, relieved he would be getting reinforcements.

Fang snickered as he huddled under the table sneakily. He must have won—his comfy ham costume would not leave his body any time soon if he had anything to say about it. It was made with very soft material and not only that, it smelled like his favorite girl!

“Fang?” her voice called, and Fang could hardly believe his ears. He danced excitedly under the table, immediately coming out of his hiding place to greet his favorite girl.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng laughed gleefully when Fang ran into her arms. She immediately began giving him scratches in his favorite spot.

“You’re such a ham!” Marinette chortled as Fang rolled onto his back to expose his belly. Marinette looked stern, hands at her hips. “You need to take the costume off, Fang.”

Fang shook his head, preparing to go back into hiding, but Marinette was faster, and she tackled the croc. Despite being trapped, Fang relished in being in his favorite girl’s arms. She gave the best hugs just like Jagged!

“I’ll help give you a bath if you let us wash it.” Marinette promised, and Fang’s ears perked up at having a fun bath with both Marinette and Jagged. As if willing this whole time, the croc let Marinette easily remove the ham costume and Jagged winced at the smell before tossing it to an attendant to wash.

“Thank God—your extra bathing suit is set out for you, Marinette. We knew this big ol’ lizard wouldn’t give in unless you came over.”

“Of course.” Marinette smiled, scratching Fang in his special spot. Then she yawned, wincing at the time. “So, I guess it stunk really badly for you to call so late—or rather early.” She remarked. Jagged looked apologetic.

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep with the smell. You know he likes to wear your costumes everywhere.” He said. Marinette giggled, waving it off.

“I’m flattered he likes them so much. The ham one seems to be his favorite.” She said.

“Probably because he is a ham!” Jagged barked a laugh. They separated to get changed into their bathing suits and soon Fang was dancing towards the tub for his bath with his two favorite people.

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

The sun had risen, Fang basking in its rays as Jagged and Marinette relaxed after bathing him. Marinette was practically family to Jagged by this point, with all the designing she did for him and his fondness for her. Fang couldn’t help but follow his master’s lead and become quite attached to the young girl.

Marinette soon came over and gave him lazy pets as she listened to Jagged’s rants about his insufferable manager. Fang was sure he was in heaven, feeling himself being lulled to sleep.

But before he could fade completely, the gentle caresses stopped, and Fang was suddenly roused from slumber, wondering where Marinette went. He caught her scent at the door, saying goodbye to his master, who was eager to get some shut eye. Fang didn’t want her to leave. She should stay and give him pets and scratches! What was more important than him?

“See ya later, Marinette! Have fun at school!” Jagged yawned, forgetting to shut the door from fatigue as Marinette hurriedly left so she wouldn’t be late for school. Fang made a noise of displeasure, wondering why she needed to leave. His catlike eyes narrowed, sniffing her out and following where she went off to, determined to get his belly scratches.

He followed her all the way out of the hotel and into the streets of Paris, unperturbed by this development. Maybe he should try to get Marinette to live with them? That way she could spend all her time with him and Jagged! Jagged was lonely at times without Marinette and Penny to keep him company, and Fang knew it would make them both happy to have Marinette—their family—live with them.

People screamed as he passed by, but he ignored them, too busy tracking his favorite girl’s scent. He soon came across a building where her scent was the strongest, and hurriedly made his way inside, tail wagging at the prospect of finding Marinette for belly scratches.

Voices grew louder as he came closer to her scent, and Fang soon entered the room where her scent was the freshest, dancing when he caught sight of the pigtailed girl. The croc wasted no time and ran to climb on her back, licking her face.

“Wha?! Fang? What are you doing here?!” Marinette gave a startled yelp and everyone else in the classroom screamed in horror at their precious Marinette being mauled by a crocodile.

Adrien wasted no time in trying to pull the giant reptile off of her, but Fang was having none of that and growled at Adrien fiercely. He did not come all this way for scratches to be pulled away from his favorite girl!

Adrien narrowed his eyes, and quickly raced out of the classroom yelling “I’ll get help!”

Meanwhile, the rest of the class prepared to wrestle a crocodile for Marinette. However, Marinette surprised them by waving a hand.

“N-no! He’s fine! He’s just a big spoiled baby!” Marinette reassured them, giggling as Fang’s licks were ticklish. “He’s Jagged Stone’s pet croc! He wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Marinette told them. Regardless, the class looked apprehensive.

Suddenly Chat Noir burst into the classroom, ready to take on the monster attacking his princess. He tackled the beast, making Fang yelp and they both rolled away from Marinette. Fang caught the familiar scent of the boy who was trying to pull him away from Marinette in the first place and he prepared his tail, smacking Chat Noir in the face hard.

Chat Noir’s head whiplashed, and everyone winced at the sight. Fang didn’t make it any better when he outright sat on the fallen hero, smooshing him with his weight for good measure.

“Fang! No! Bad crocodile! Get off of Chaton right now!” Marinette ordered. Fang gave a disgruntled whine before obeying, making sure to step on Chat Noir extra hard for good measure. It was a miracle the boy was still conscious.

“Princess! Are you okay?! Did that monster hurt you?!” Chat sprung up and examined Marinette for any injuries. He would turn that croc into a purse if he harmed one hair on Marinette’s head! Fang growled, looking offended at the notion he would dare harm Marinette, but Marinette scratched him lightly, calming the beast.

“I’m fine, Chaton!” Marinette laughed, separating from him gently. “It’s just Fang! He’s Jagged Stone’s! He must’ve followed me here after I gave him a bath!”

“You give Jagged Stone’s pet a bath?!” Nathaniel blinked.

“Well yeah, this ham here doesn’t take off his costumes unless me and Jagged bribe him with baths together.” Marinette shrugged, continuing to pet Fang, not noticing all her classmates stiffen.

‘Jagged Stone is dead to us.’ They thought. How dare—that—that pervert take baths with their precious Mari!

“We’re going to report him, girl!” Alya announced. The others nodded in agreement.

“How appalling! I can’t believe Jagged Stone would take baths with a teenage girl.” Lila hissed. She swore she would wreck the rockstar’s reputation.

“No! No! We’re wearing swimsuits! It’s not perverted, I swear!” Marinette realized what they were getting at and rushed to defend someone she considered family. The class didn’t look convinced. Marinette sighed. “Jagged Stone is like my uncle! He would never do something like that to me!”

“He better be.” Ivan said, his eyes narrowed.

“Or else he gets a fist to the face.” Kim added.

“Or I run him over with my blades.” Alix chimed in.

“I’m more than happy to sick Markov on him too if he hurts you, Marinette.” Max promised. Marinette smiled.

“That’s very nice of everyone but really, there’s no need! I’m safe!” Marinette reassured them. Just then, Miss Bustier came in and gave a scream at the sight of the crocodile in her classroom snuggling up to her favorite student. Marinette rushed to calm her, “It’s okay, Miss Bustier! It’s just Fang! He must’ve followed me here.”

Miss Bustier held a hand to her chest, feeling her heart pound erratically, eyeing the beast. The reptile appeared docile, too busy getting pets from Marinette, and she mentally sighed—clearly she should’ve brought wine to school today after all…

“Well… if you’re sure.” The teacher then eyed Chat Noir. “Chat Noir, is there a reason you’re here?”

Chat jolted, his face erupting into a blush.

“S-Sorry ma’am! I just thought Marinette was being attacked so I rushed over! Please excuse me!”

Miss Bustier sighed, rubbing her temples as Chat Noir exited the classroom in a hurry.

“Alright, everyone, take your seats. Today’s lesson will be—”

“Hi! Sorry I’m late.” Adrien came hurrying in. Fang gave him a spiteful glare, growling moodily, and Miss Bustier sighed even louder.

“Marinette, please tell the crocodile not to eat the other students.” Miss Bustier said tiredly. Marinette was shushing Fang, who begrudgingly left Adrien alone. “Now everyone please take your seats.”

Everyone hurried to their seats and Fang completely shoved Alya out of the bench, snuggling up to Marinette.

“Hey! You scaly asshole! That’s my seat!”

Fang growled again, showing teeth and Alya backed off.

“On second thought, I’ll sit in the back today…”

If crocodiles could smirk, Miss Bustier was sure the darn reptile would be beaming.

Yes, she clearly should’ve brought the wine bottle to school today…

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

Felix simply blinked at the scaly croc snuggling up to Marinette as they sat in the bakery. Honestly, he supposed anything to do with Marinette shouldn’t surprise him anymore, but it still manages to do so every time.

“So… is he just living here now?” Felix asked. Marinette laughed.

“Oh no! I’m going to take him back with Luka and Juleka later. They’re the only ones that Fang likes besides me, Jagged, and Penny. I guess it’s because they remind Fang of Jagged.” Marinette mused, petting Fang. The croc sighed in bliss at the attention.

“Oh... I guess we’ll have to cut this short.” Felix tried not to show his disappointment. Marinette looked shy.

“Actually, I was hoping you could come with us? It’s fun talking to you and I’d hate for it to cut into our hanging out time.” Marinette requested softly. Felix’s lips quirked into a small smile.

“Of course. Sounds like fun.” He reassured her.

After all, he could never refuse her.

[todo-ho-ki]

If It’s Convenient For You, Pt. 5

Here it is! The short-awaited part 5! It took me forever to even think of something I’m so sorry dolls. But this one is more of a mess around thing I guess? It’s kind of fillerific and not totally necessary. I really hope you guys enjoy 

Word Count: 2,069

Pairing: BakugoXReader

Warnings: Swearing, blood

@chims-kookies @velvet-kissesss you said you had post notifs on but I’ll tag you just in case!

Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4     Part 6

Holy shit.  All you could feel was relief. They were finally here.

He hopped off the roof and landed terrifyingly close to the man, wrapping a hand around his throat.

"If you don't, we're gonna have a problem," he growled. The man looked absolutely terrified, trembling under his grip. It was honestly a little terrifying to watch the ferocious, untamed smile consume Bakugo's face. You watched a hand reach out for Bakugo's arm

. "I wouldn't if I were you. I have some bad news," His tone took on a quality you'd never heard in a voice before. "There's no way you're winning." His free hand began to crackle with little explosions.

"Now!" He yelled and you watched excitedly as a path of ice began creeping toward them both. Bakugo jumped away at the last second as the ice encased the man's ankles and knees, then his waist and arms, leaving only his head exposed.

"What the-?"

"Only idiots concentrate on one enemy at a time. Idiots and bad villains." All his struggling was to no avail as Todoroki strolled casually around the corner, hands in his pockets.

"Get the others out of here. The police are on their way."

Bakugo scoffed. "I'm already on it." His arms crossed as he plodded toward the building, a scowl on his face.

"Are you all right?" Todoroki bent over you curiously.

"Uh, well, not really."

"Hmm. Let's get this wound taken care of." He knelt near your bad leg and you winced as he picked up the hem of your skirt.

There was no time for him to do anything; a sudden explosion erupted from the building, blowing out the windows and shaking the ground.

Todoroki was quick to shield you from the glass, a wall of ice covering the two of you. He let out a soft sigh as his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

"I didn't say blow up the building." His exasperated tone made you chuckle.

Kirishima rushed out from around the corner, breathless. "Dude! Did he- that wasn't the plan!" He surveyed the damage. "Jeez." He ran in yelling for Bakugo, who met him at the door screeching.

"What did you do?"

"Those assholes tried to take me hostage!"

"So? You blew up the building! Overkill, man."

Their arguing voices carried in the wind. Your eyelids grew heavy as the other two dealt with the fallout of Bakugo's temper tantrum. You didn't even realize how tired you were, leg throbbing in an excruciating pain you couldn't deal with right now.

"Is he always this hard to handle?" Todoroki's expression told you everything you needed to know.

The vibrations of Bakugo's heavy steps fell across the asphalt and Todoroki's wall of ice melted.

"Whatever! I took care of it, didn't I? There were no other people in there!" Bakugo yelled back.

"No! You didn't! You wanted to run in blasting first and asking questions later! And we told you that was stupid because there were bystanders and a hostage, so you sulked in a corner! And then you did it anyway! Not manly! You could've hurt someone."

You surveyed Bakugo's face for any semblance of an answer. You'd seen him fight and rescue on TV many times. He was definitely smart and more than able to come up with a good plan. So why was he being so reckless now?

"Well, I didn't! Everyone is fine!"

Everyone? Even me, lying on the ground bleeding?

Maybe they'd decided your wound wasn't so lethal you needed immediate treatment. But even in the wake of that, it was almost like they were doing an exercise, not actually rescuing someone.

The ideas bounced off in your head while you acquired whiplash watching the two argue back and forth.

Are they not.. phased at all? I'm bleeding to death slowly!

"Excuse me!" Ther stopped to look at you, almost stunned you interrupted. "I. Have. Been. Stabbed! And I'm bleeding profusely! Can someone please do literally anything?" You scolded them with a pretty fiery passion.

Kirishima looked embarrassed as he sat you up against your car.

Not at all what I was going for, but this'll do. Your arms crossed with a huff.

"Sorry we're late," Kirishima smiled. "I'm glad we meet again though." You couldn't help but smile. Kirishima's attitude was infectious.

"Again?" Bakugo muttered, confusion clear on his face. Even in your stupor, it didn't make it past you.

"Oh my god." You were nearly dumbfounded. His stupid-looking face told you everything you needed to know. This idiot didn't recognize you outside of the store.

"You-I-" Your head turned to Kirishima for some assistance, but he was hopelessly embarrassed.

"Dude. She's the girl from the convenience store," he strained, eyebrows raising and scrunching together.

"Oh, this is that brat?" He gave you a lazy once-over.

"I swear to god if I could stand I'd fight you right now."

"Can you get her out of here Katsuki? She's bleeding pretty bad and you can get to the hospital faster than an ambulance. We'll handle the police and..the people. And probably the news." Kirishima helped you stand up finally, bracing you against his side.

Bakugo took a look around the parking lot for a moment.

"Trying to run away?" You joked. "I'm not that awful to be around." Your words didn't even register as he pulled the headband off Kirishima and ripped it in two in one smooth motion.

"Hey!"

"Hush."

He knelt down and wrapped half of the band around the top of your leg as a tourniquet and you had to do everything in your power not to buckle under the feel of his warm hands ghosting your thigh.

He's not even going to ASK!?

You were lucky you had Kirishima's waist to dig into or a hand probably would've ended up grabbing Bakugo's messy hair. You were certain your red face was a dead giveaway as his fingertips grazed your skin lightly to tie a knot in the fabric. And in your stomach.

He wrapped the other half around the wound itself twice as gently as before. You shrieked a little as he looked up, not bothering to stand quite yet.

"How's that?" His voice suddenly grew soft, which wasn't doing you any favors. "It's- fine," the words barely crossed your lips. You were in a daze, his questioning red eyes holding you hostage.

"Good. I don't need you bleeding all over my clothes." He took more liberties with Kirishima's clothing, ripping his sleeve off of his shirt and cleaning all the blood off your leg that wasn't dried.

You nearly lost your mind as he stood back up, towering over you, arms outstretched as he wrapped one around your shoulder and picked up your legs. 

You didn't even have time to react to his snide comment before a tingle shot up your back and you were forced to swallow whatever words you were about to say.

His hands were so insanely warm and soft. The heat mixed with the cold air and you felt goosebumps on your arms and neck, though you were certain it had almost nothing to do with the temperature. You buried your face in his shoulder, hoping maybe he just wouldn't notice your reddening cheeks and shivers.

"Try not blow her up too. Or steal her clothes,"Kirishima chided, motioning to his lack of sleeve.

"Yeah yeah. Wouldn't dream of either."

Did you like that he said that? Every passing moment made you more curious to find out.

He took off into the night, bounding effortlessly, the moon giving a slight illumination to his still face. You dared sneak a peek at his features and damn if he wasn't just as beautiful as he was the other day, no trace of anger in his face. A soft gasp crossed your lips and his eyes flicked to the side.

"Nervous?" He asked.

"No. Well, maybe a little." Your breath was catching in your throat but it wasn't because of any airtime.

"You're not gonna get sick or somethin' are you?"

"Wh-no! I wouldn't dream of it." Your eyes trailed down to his jawline. You were pressed so close to his face. It was driving you mad how little distance you had to close to press your lips against his neck.

Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything embarrassing.

But you didn't feel your hands unclasp themselves. You didn't feel yourself reaching for the side of his face, hand connecting with soft skin. You didn't even realize you were staring at him with your mouth half open in awe of how gorgeous he really was. But he did.

"You better watch yourself, you fucking idiot. Don't touch me like that," he growled, eyes darting to you in warning before snapping back to the endless night in front of him.

You were sure you were a million degrees hotter than a second ago, letting out a squeak of shame.

What the actual fuck am I thinking? Fucking idiot is right! If you're gonna be the worst can't you at least wait until you can get away?

The wind kicked up as your embarrassment soared far beyond what you were sure was appropriate for one person to feel.

"Uh, yeah. If you wanna just literally drop me, just like, right on the ground so I can die, that'd be cool."

When in doubt, vocally wish for death!

It seemed a bit carried by the wind, but you could've sworn you heard some sort of noise resembling a laugh from his chest.

Did he just- did I make him laugh? Was that a fucking laugh?

There wasn't much time to ponder. "Don't tempt me, stupid woman. You're just lucky I'm used to people thinking I'm pretty."

You immediately opened your big stupid mouth to remark. " Too bad you're not used to people thinking you're bearable to be around."

With that you felt both his hands clench bruisingly on your skin.

"You talk a lot of shit for someone who couldn't fight off one dude with a knife."

"And you talk the perfect amount of shit for someone I'd consider an asshole. What's your point?" You sassed, rolling your eyes as he landed in front of the hospital.

Without warning he pulled his arm out from under you, forcing you to land on your good foot. Luckily you were paying attention. A stinging sensation buzzed at your ankle and the warmth from him was gone, leaving you frigid and angry.

"Ow! Asshole! What would you have done if I landed on my other leg and died right here?" His stare was almost incredulous as you kept yourself latched to his shoulders. 

You really were wishing for death, perhaps in the form of a meteor striking earth. You were glad he shook off the minute before this one, but you would be fine if you never saw him again.

"You're so fucking dramatic. Let go of me." He picked your lingering arm off his shoulders.

"Cool. Guess I'll just hobble into the hospital then."

He rolled his eyes and picked you up again, much more roughly than before. A feeling of warmth shot through you and your eyes fluttered closed. "Wow. Such a brat," He scoffed. He trudged up the walkway quickly, probably eager to get rid of you.

Maybe..you were a little bit of a brat.. you didn't finish the thought as you fell asleep within seconds. No longer flying through the air meant you were truly warm and the pain in your leg was finally returning to a dull throb.

"Oi! Wake up!" Bakugo's gruff voice startled you awake just before he tossed you into a wheelchair like you were a beanbag of sorts.

"Jesus! Are you this rough with everyone you have to save?"

"Most of them are smart enough to not give me so much damn sass. Or they aren’t awake. You're obviously not that seriously injured if you can't keep your mouth shut. So we'll wait for a room." 

We?

Your arms crossed as he wheeled you into the hospital.

How does this asshole stay in business? What agency looked at this dude and said 'yeah, no liabilities here!'

He checked in at the front desk and surprisingly sat down next to you, crossed arms matching your own. Was he really going to not only deny you emergency services, but annoy you the whole time you were waiting, too?

[diabolikmosquito]

Just-Watched Thoughts on S3

Alright time to write this while I’m still here recovering so I can go to bed already. I might add more/clean this up once I get some proper sleep. Tagging it but putting Castlevania Season 3 spoilers under a cut just in case people haven’t got tags hidden and such. Here goes-

Overall I’m honestly just kinda shocked? I think it’s because a lot of things were easy to predict (that the cult might be trying to bring back Dracula, something was up with the Judge, Hector was obviously gonna fall for Lenore’s bs, etc.) so when things happened I didn’t see from a mile away.. 

When I was only like an episode or two in, things actually felt a little stunted to me? Something about it felt like “This is what people liked from before, right??” particularly with certain action or such, but I feel like it picked up pretty quickly from that. I’m still kinda in winding-down-emotions mode so I can’t really definitively say what storylines I liked and which ones I disliked for the most part. I liked Isaac’s, and the design of the... Hivemind Magician? Was all pretty sick. It felt like the first thing that was actually a massive challenge for him, and nearly overtook him, but he overcame it and even came out of it thinking through what he wanted for the future. It’s a nice change from seeing him steamroll anything that came his way. 

I like that Trevor and Sypha’s storyline ends up with them not getting their heroic grand time like they did last time. Yes, there were sacrifices made, but before it still felt grandiose: they’d worked together to kill Dracula, something the world didn’t even think possible for the most part. This time, they sacrificed a lot more and ultimately didn’t win a thing other than their own lives, and were helping a hidden monster in their process of killing other monsters. What a crushing thing for them to have to go through, and I think Trevor’s conversation with himself before (and later with said monster, ironically enough) about missing parts of his old non-heroic non-adventuring life was pretty somber and interesting. 

The whole Lenore/Hector route was exactly what’s expected from the beginning, but it was done well for what it was, and I don’t think they were trying to fool anyone with the direction it was headed. Carmilla’s plot was.. eh, more or less not much seemed to actually happen, but it did introduce us to the awesome vampire sisters so I’m more than down with it. I wish we got a little more about Saint Germain’s whole deal with that portal and such, who he was looking for and how he knows they’re still alive in there, but I assume that’s a next-season kind of thing. I’m gonna ramble if I write anymore so here’s a more concise/clear list:

Things I liked -  Trevor and Sypha’s chemistry! I thought it was good the first couple seasons (which apparently puts me in the minority?) but they felt much more compatible as a couple this time around. The little exchange about the “taste for rougher things in life” is wonderful, and I definitely snorted when she sleep-bapped him in the face. - The tidbits of funny dialogue! Seems to still be a show specialty. Some of them were understandably a bit funny (using “Nope! speedwalks away” in place of “shut it” is pretty good), and others weren’t funny but I just found it hilarious (e.g. Morana’s repeated fancily-stated things that boiled down to “... Lenore, seriously, TMI”) - The soundtrack! Not really any surprise, despite it not being the famous Symphony of the Night tracks people clamored for trust me I totally get that and despite it still not being released even from season 2 much less 3,  it was very nice to listen to.  - The vampire sisters! While it was obvious from the beginning Lenore was the “cutest/nonthreateningest-looking of the scary bunch but actually the scariest” one I liked the energy they all had, especially Striga and Morana and their relationship. I liked that we got to see Carmilla’s attitude bouncing off of other vampires who (while respecting her skill) also called her out for it from time to time. - The references! I’m sure there’s more and I’m a dumbass who only spots the obvious ones, but... the fact there’s demons that’re exactly ones out of the ol’ Symphony of the Night game again, like the Malachi and Fire Demon. It’s so dumb but I love shit like that, especially since they obviously stray far from the game canon and don’t have to do that but do it anyway. - Some of the action scenes. I cannot mention what I like without mentioning the parts that made me go “... Okay, yeah, that was badass.” You know the ones! When Cho busted that sword with her hands, when Sypha chopped that angel-like demon into pieces. ... A lot of the stuff Sypha did, actually, I’m glad she got some more epic moments to kick ass this season. I thought the earlier action scenes of the season were just alright, but by the last fight it was definitely starting to feel like that awesome dynamic fight style we saw in season 2. - The fact Dracula saw an opportunity to return and didn’t want to. Not much to say here other than the obvious - I feel like that’s extremely fitting, and I’m glad they made it clear without bringing him back and having him be angry/regret it or something like that. Without any dialogue, even. - The ending.. somewhat. It destroyed me a little on the inside, but I actually like that nobody really had a happy ending. Particularly if there could be another season, it feels really fitting. I’ve seen some people complaining “They ended up where they started! Trevor and Sypha are back on the road, Isaac’s traveling with his army, Alucard’s alone in the castle and Hector is a slave” but I couldn’t disagree more. Of course if you boil it down to the words themselves, it’s “the same,” but did ya see the sheer trauma literally everyone was put through? Obviously some had it worse than others (and we’ll fucking get to that) but nobody came out unscathed. Everyone’s now had some belief challenged or retreated further into a fear/mistrust that already existed - previous events planted the seed for it and the hell the cast went through gave it growth. 

Trevor and Sypha are going to have to challenge their goal they’d been following since working together/getting together: they can’t just go headlong adventuring and fixing people’s problems, because things like this can happen. Their new allies and the entire town were slaughtered or trapped somewhere, and the man they’d trusted and been helping this entire time was a serial killer, particularly of children. Alucard is drifting into a state of consciousness not unlike his father before he met Lisa, but potentially in a worse place since he’s witnessed and felt true kindness, but has retreated away from it even so due to the betrayal he’s suffered at an already-fragile time for him. Isaac has to reconsider what he’s going to do once he has his proper army, and even if it’s worth it to get his revenge or to carry out Dracula’s original plans. Saint Germain.. I mean, he’s in psychodelic hell searching for that person and presumably a way out, I assume it’s tragic. Hector’s learned a hard lesson in trusting and is going to have to figure out if his freedom is worth risking pain or death. Likewise I think the characters grow this way. Even if it was a happy ending, or an ending where everyone “wins” some small victory somehow, I think it’d ultimately have been worthless if nobody was fundamentally changed by the end of the season.

Things I didn’t like - The sex scenes. I’ve seen a lot of people like “If you’re gonna put in gratuitous sex then actually include Trevor and Sypha??” and I’m gonna have to disagree with that. While I love the ship and all, I’d like to give the benefit of the doubt and say sex scenes weren’t thrown around randomly or just to flex the rating - they were only tied to actual story, hence why I’m down with the bedroom stuff of the show’s main ship only being alluded to. However, I gotta say that the long broken-up sex scenes mixed with battle/action was not the way to do that. I think I know what they were going for (it definitely drove my anxiety up having those scenes back to back with intense action/violence, I can tell ya that!), but it just wasn’t a good idea. Yes, they were obviously made to be uncomfortable (particularly since I’m pretty sure one of them was dubious consent at best?) but that was reflected well just in a few key frames/actions - it didn’t need to be drawn out and mixed with the action. It made me want to skip through (I didn’t out of fear I’d miss battles, which isn’t really good design) and I’d like to bet parts of the finale are unwatchable for some. For the record, yes you could say “well they got into an adult-rated show, deal with it,” but the fact of the matter is up until now sexual violence/discomfort wasn’t heavy-handed and in-your-face like this. Non-sexual violence was definitely all over the whole series, but it’s still a bit like whiplash considering. Also, the fact people think the scene with Alucard was at all chill. I see it from a story standpoint (though I honestly think their motivations were weak and there’s other ways to betray someone/get their guard down), but I think the people going on about “power bottom” and this and that are forgetting that the absence of a no is not a yes, particularly with someone severely emotionally damaged after spending months alone not only without a support group but without any contact, immediately following the death of his father by his own hands. I’m no expert but I don’t think that’s someone in the proper state of mind to consent to anything sexual, even if there were a couple weeks or whatever of spending time with these new friends. He very well might’ve been on the way to a stress disorder before they turned his world upside-down and frankly I’m wondering how he’s going to be faring come the next season (assuming there is one.) That’s more of a fandom gripe than the show itself I suppose but it’s worth a mention. - The pacing. It’s hard to pinpoint it, but something about it felt off, especially in the first half. The best way I can describe it is when you pump the gas and brakes because your brakes aren’t working great and you’re loosening them up - maybe it was necessary to get things going, but it’s a bit destabilizing/odd for anyone in the car. I think it’s what contributed to that stunted sense I got until things picked up a little more. You can see it more in just how packed with stuff the latter half is, some things which could’ve been planned a bit better through the whole season. - Sumi and Taka. I honestly felt that they wanted to get in a way to have a punch-in-the-gut arc with Alucard (not a bad idea, I am one for tragedy), wanted to kill off some characters who were actually important, and decided to do these both with one stone. I don’t think they were successful on the second part, because these two absolutely contributed to the stunted feeling I had about some of the season. They had a good start in terms of backstory, and the idea of two people working together to fight vampires without having some big legend tied to their name to drive it (e.g. Speaker magicians, Belmont legacy, Alucard’s heritage), as well as a connection to/fleshing out of one of the nameless generals, sounded like a great concept. A great concept, but it was rushed I felt, to the point that their motivations for turning on him were so packed and squished in they just weren’t believable if we’re supposed to believe these two were sane. They had some sort of mental/trust issues due to their backstory - that’s fine, and could contribute some emotional problems. However if their distrust in Alucard had been given more time to fester and grow, more little comments of Alucard’s brushing off their attempts to learn about specific things, and more cues from him that could be misinterpreted by them as him causing trouble and lying (not just them not believing him by itself), it would be more believable that the past and misinterpretations of the present get into their head and poison their thoughts of him. You can plant a seed of doubt but just like any other character bonds, it has to be given time to grow. Alucard’s rapid bonding with them could be attributed to his loneliness, trauma, and need for a support system, but you can’t make that excuse for Sumi and Taka’s motivations going from “Hm.. I wonder what he isn’t telling us” to “We need to emotionally gut him and then kill him” basically overnight. Edit:

I forgot to add a conclusion last night, so I guess the TL;DR is season 3’s a good 7.5/10 for me, -1 for the overall pacing, -1 for missing a bit of the punch from before, and -0.5 because the last few episodes jumped me with a bat and I let it happen.