#how many aus do i now have that involve/center around cooking????

[yourbravestpigeon]

Grandpa AU - January 2022

“This week was even worse”, Lady Gauntes announced as soon as Alberich picked up the call. “It’s supposed to get easier, not harder.”

“Three weeks now, huh?”, he asked, phone wedged between his chin and ear. He was sorting through a laundry basket, looking for something to wear to their monthly visit to the opera. Tonight it was Turandot, Puccini’s last work. It was one of many musical versions of Gozzi’s famous fairytale, centered around a Chinese princess with no intention to marry and an impressive kill count. Alberich had seen it on stage more times than he could count, but he couldn’t seem to grow tired of it.

“Three weeks exactly”, Lady Gauntes confirmed, voice devoid of emotion.

“It won’t be the same without him.”

“It won’t.”

After the funeral, Alberich had read a couple online articles on grief support, and he remembered reading ‘acknowledge their loss’. He wasn’t sure this counted as acknowledging, but it was true that it would be weird going just the two of them. The Gaunteses had been so defined by each other that it seemed odd they hadn’t gotten buried in a joint coffin.

There was a pause, and Lady Gauntes cleared her throat. “I’m not sure I can do this tonight.”

“Oh?” Alberich smoothed out the shirt he’d just procured. Without her he would skip the high-end restaurant, but he might still go see the opera. He’d been looking forward to it since November, and the timing was perfect really: he’d just been invited to co-author a paper on Les Mille et un jours, and although Turandot probably wouldn’t feature heavily in it, it was a nice coincidence.  

“It feels wrong to go without him.”

“Yeah”, Alberich agreed, getting up to look for the matching jacket to the slacks he was wearing.

“Right now I can’t imagine ever setting foot in there again.”

“Totally.” Respect the person’s way of grieving, the articles had said.

“I can’t even… really think about it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He knew the jacket was somewhere in his wardrobe. Or in his car, maybe? He’d last worn it to Irene and Kai’s engagement party.

“Could we just dine at your place?”

Alberich froze, taken aback by the suggestion. That was certainly not how they did things in their noncommittal friendship, or at least not how they’d done them the past 20 years. It wasn’t like the Gaunteses had never been to his apartment, but those instances hadn’t usually exceeded visits to the bathroom before they’d gotten in a car together. They’d certainly never involved him cooking dinner.

“Eh”, he stalled, mentally reviewing the supplies in his kitchen. All things considered, it was mostly a lot of porridge. Definitely not much to impress a self-proclaimed noblewoman. “Sure”, he agreed nonetheless. As long as she didn’t want to go through photos of her husband together, he supposed she could spend an evening moping on his couch. “I guess I could make… a soup, or something.”

“What kind of soup?”

Now he actually walked over to the kitchen, glancing at countertops and opening some shelves.

“One that involves lots of potatoes and one onion.”

“So we’re having potato soup on a Saturday night…?”

“Yes.”

There was a brief pause, and he could picture her face right now, exploring all possible avenues before reaching a verdict. He started looking for his peeler.

“Could you make the creamy kind?”, she inquired.

“Probably not.”

“Ah. So you’re making a Scottish one?”

“What would that be?”

“The version for poor people.”

“I’m not poor”, he replied. “I just don’t waste my income on luxury foods.”

“Do you have cream? And some parmesan?”

“I have milk.”

Lady Gauntes sighed. “Fine. Let me know what you’ve got at home and we’ll run by the store on our way-…” She caught her mistake, words grinding to a halt. “I mean I will-…”

There was a dreadful silence that felt a lot like repressed tears. Alberich waited a minute to see if she’d catch herself again; she usually did. She hadn’t cried at the funeral, just stared everyone down with a vengefulness as if she found it preposterous none of the guests had offered to die of lung cancer in lieu of her husband.

“Are you okay?”, Alberich asked into the quiet.

“Mhm”, came a noise that sounded like a chipmunk might have made it.

“I’ll go buy cream”, he promised nervously. “Anything else you want in the soup?”

“Make sure it’s heavy cream”, Lady Gauntes squeezed out before she abruptly hung up.

-

Alberich strolled through the isles, looking for things you’d buy for a visitor who was likely to cry during their stay. He’d added tissues to the cream and carrots he’d gotten for the soup, but other than that he was unsure, roaming the store in pursuit of inspiration. He considered getting ice cream, then figured that might just be for breakup tears. Passing the tobacco products sparked a thought, but Lady Gauntes would probably not be too crazy about cigarettes right now. And even if he was mistaken, he should still have his packet of job interview cigarettes somewhere in his apartment.

In the end, he just settled for booze. He’d only ever seen the woman drink red wines more expensive than his salary, but if push came to shove cheap white rum would have to do tonight. And if she didn’t end up drinking it, he could just add it to the stock Nikita had started piling up in their office in anticipation of his thesis defense.

He didn’t know if you could use a self-checkout if you were buying alcohol, so he got in line for the normal one and started googling recipes for creamy potato soup as he waited.

-

For a recipe that had easy in its title it sure required a lot of kitchen gadgets Alberich didn’t have. The most imminent problem was his lack of blender (‘if you don’t have an immersion blender, a normal one works fine’, he’d read with dwindling amusement), but at least ‘stock pot’ just seemed to be a fancy word for a normal pot.

He also hadn’t bought celery or cheese, but it had almost been his turn at the register when he’d seen and so he’d figured they’d have to live without. At least he had ham in his fridge he could add instead of the chopped bacon the recipe demanded.

Google didn’t help answer the question if you could make mashed potatoes and mix that with the broth to achieve the same effect as blending it, so he just cut everything into very small pieces and plunged it into the water. He upped the heat, changed the radio channel because it was driving him crazy, then stirred in the milk-cream-flour mix and the ham. If you didn’t compare it to the picture on the recipe website, the result looked decent enough, even with the non-blended vegetables floating about. Maybe he’d tell Lady Gauntes it was a Bolivian potato soup.

That being done he cleaned enough paper off the kitchen table to have space to eat and then walked over to his CD shelves. If he ended up missing the opera, he’d at least listen to it at home. Margaret had gotten him a Turandot once, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t thrown it away.

[tennessoui]

au where anakin runs a cooking youtube channel and obi-wan runs a baking one and they’re both hugely successful and have many recipe books and a few restaurants/bakeries between them---for obi-wan, the youtube/tiktok videos are a lark, something one of his more social media savvy agents suggested. for anakin, that’s how he got his start so he still religiously uploads a few videos per month.

their fans want them to do a collab video---they both cook dinner and then they both make dessert. their agents love the idea, and they’re put in contact with one another to work out the kinks and figure out what to make.

anakin is thrilled because he loves obi-wan’s videos and routinely watched them during culinary school as a sort of calming meditation technique. obi-wan is thrilled because he’s always wanted to try one of Anakin’s meals, as they look so amazing.

so for a few weeks they’re like high key flirting over DMs and texts, both becoming more and more excited to meet in person......

only for their cooking styles to completely not mesh. they’re both ready to strangle the other man halfway through making dinner. 

(“roughly chopped” is fine in baking, ah-na-kin, are you really seriously trying to throw out all this onion? oh, perfect. you’re just passively aggressively cutting it smaller. lovely.)

(yes, i know the recipe called for 2 cloves of garlic, obi-wan, i can read. but we’re going to add four and cook them in butter instead of oil because the flavor is better. can’t you just trust me???)

[britishassistant]

I wonder what the supervillains (the dorm leaders) would do if they get switched with their other self in Twisted Wonderland.

They'll meet a younger Yuu calls them senpai and probably get shivers when they hear someone shout Prefect but then realize its Yuu's role in that world.

Bonus would be if Yuuken's there too, sharing the dorm with Yuu.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

I decided to take a little inspo from my Villainous Paranoiac series for this one! Not a whole lot, but the idea of Twisted Wonderland Yuu being put in the infirmary after the events of Chapter Five!

(Also consider it non-canon, since it kinda involves everyone’s identities being exposed!)

Basically imagine that the supervillains find themselves in what looks like a private school infirmary, late at night. The air is buzzing with a strange energy, almost like the powers back in their home world, but...different, somehow.

The room nearly empty, save for one occupant in a cot close to the door.

Poison Queen and King immediately begin bickering over whose fault this mess is, while Royal Flush tries to get them to keep their voices down or else they’ll be detected. Charon is half a minute from going to curl up in a corner, clutching his freeze ray like a lifeline, while Octo Dealer and Snake Charmer are busy inspecting their surroundings for anything of value or that can be requisitioned into a weapon on short notice.

Tsunotaro has wandered over to inspect the sole other living being in the room with them.

He is pleasantly surprised to see what looks like a younger version of the reporter he’s so fond of, fast asleep in the infirmary cot. Their cheeks still retain the last bit of baby fat from childhood, and there’s some acne left that will fade with age. He may give one cheek a gentle poke, just to satisfy his curiosity. The sleepy mumble they let out is a little more high pitched than normal, but that’s the reporter’s voice alright.

He is less pleased to see dark circles under their eyes, or the bandages around their throat that stink of medicinal salves. If this truly is a younger version of his child of man, then why do they look so worried, even in sleep? Why are they injured and sleeping in this place of healing in the first place? They’re a mere child, barely old enough to operate a vehicle or live alone. Their only worries should be trivial things, not whatever is causing this furrow in their brow and hunch in their shoulders.

The other supervillains have begun to migrate over to where Tsunotaro is crouching in silent contemplation. King flips his eyepatch up to get a better look, whistling lowly. Octo Dealer busies himself with refilling their water glass, sneaking glances at them as he places it within easy reach. Snake Charmer pulls their pillow more under their head from where it’s almost slipped off. Poison Queen straightens the arrangement of the very tasteful bouquet on the bedside table, so the flowers’ best angle is shown to the bed’s occupant. Royal Flush carefully tucks their covers in over them.

Charon takes a picture with his tablet.

He forgot to turn off his flash.

Yuu cracks their eyes open...

To see seven adults looming over their bed in masks that resemble the ink from the overblots that haunt the Prefect’s nightmares.

Cue terrified screaming.

Snake Charmer lunges forward instinctively to cover Yuu’s mouth—

It’s only thanks to Poison Queen yanking him back that he doesn’t end up with an arrow in the shoulder.

Several more follow the first one through the window above the prefect’s cot, cold iron sharp and perfectly aimed to seriously maim if the supervillains don’t immediately get away from the screaming teenager. Rook was lax in protecting the Trickster after VDC ended, assuming there was no more danger after Roi du Poison’s overblot was saved. He will not make that mistake again.

The infirmary doors burst open, a younger Yuuken in a sleep-rumpled uniform barging in from where he decided to sleep outside because Ramshackle felt too empty and quiet to bear, but was forbidden from staying in the infirmary himself. He only has a pillow, but he brandishes it at the strange adults, fully willing to defend his dorm mate in whatever way he can.

The vanguard appears in a flurry of bats though, too many to fight off, small and vicious and furious. Their commander materializes in the center if the swarm, hovering over the head of Yuu’s cot, pink eyes brimming with a cold rage that makes his small and cute form look like it’s bursting at the seams holding something much older and angrier back. He opens his mouth, fangs long and glistening—

Only to stop short at the sight of one of the supervillains. “Malleus? Malleus Draconia?”

Tsunotaro nods warily.

“Wh-What in Twisted Wonderland are you wearing??”

Tsunotaro ducks his head like a chastened child. “I could say the same thing.” He mutters sullenly.

From there the lights get turned on, and the seven supervillains are made to explain themselves to the sleep-deprived students and staff who trickle in to see what’s going on. All six dorm leaders and one vice dorm leader vanished from their beds, setting everyone on high alert until news of these...alternate versions spread.

It is very weird for the supervillains to see all their minions as teenagers (again in some cases). It is only surpassed by how weird it is for everyone else to see their dorm heads and vice head all grown up and adult, even if they are dressed weird.

Ortho still wants to shoot them with a beam until they bring back his nii-san. Luckily Charon is able to convince him that Idia should be fine if he’s in Charon’s lair—he’s got plenty of the latest games, manga and tech for him to play with, so that should keep him occupied for a while.

Sebek is in a state of Malleus awe. He has shut down and will not restart. Silver has taken to pinching himself just to make sure this isn’t a Lilia’s cooking induced fever dream, while Lilia himself scolds Tsunotaro that he raised him better than to go around watching people sleep like that! Tsunotaro tries to use the “but I’m a supervillain” excuse, only for Lilia to shoot back “and I’m a war criminal in some nations, what’s your point?”

King is enjoying watching the overgrown lizard get scolded. Now if only the tiny Ruggie would stop asking him what injury the eyepatch is for, and making remarks about how embarrassing it would be if it were totally pointless—King does not pay his adult self so much to put up with this shit. The baby Jack also needs to stop demanding to know if his adult minion self can pull a sled faster than a moose or something...

Jade and Floyd are attempting to wind up the adult Octo Dealer, trying to see how much they can get away with compared with the normal Azul. Octo Dealer is legitimately at a loss as to how this world’s Azul doesn’t keep them in line without letting them turn to a crime or two. Then he learns about Azul’s contract business and feels a pang of commiseration and understanding.

Poison Queen, Royal Flush, and Snake Charmer are unpleasantly shocked when their dorms address them by their respective secret identities in front of their fellow supervillains out of the blue.

Poison Queen has to put up with King’s uncontrolled laughter as he finally understands the full extent of the incident with White Neige so long ago, while Tsunotaro tries to tell him he liked Schoenheit in his role as the evil dragon prince in the GaoGao dramatization. Royal Flush is about two seconds away from throttling Octo Dealer if the bastard doesn’t stop trying to make a deal to guarantee his mother doesn’t learn about her son’s private activities. Snake Charmer’s just glad his civilian identity flies under the radar enough that Charon has to try and look him up to understand who he is (and fails because he’s not on school wifi and his cellular data is bust).

Poison Queen is also getting a headache from Rook rhapsodizing about how his villain form is another, enhanced mode of beauty he is fortunate to lay eyes upon, as if he hadn’t been willing to skewer Poison Queen along with the rest of the supervillains five minutes ago. He’s at least able to amuse himself by letting Epel run away with his speculations about how he’s the buff hyper-masculine muscle for Poison Queen.

Kalim is crying that Jamil had to resort to becoming a villain in his home world! He must be so sad if he has to do that! He’s mildly cheered up when Snake Charmer tells him they work together on schemes, and that Snake Charmer is actually reasonably happy with his chosen vocation—and then he begins panicking that Jamil will like that world so much, he won’t want to come back.

Royal Flush is glad his counterpart at least has good people around to look after him, even if it is odd to have young versions of Trey and Cater trying to mother hen him despite the fact that he’s the older one now. At least Ace and Deuce acting up seems more fitting now considering their age than it ever did on their adult selves.

Ace huffs a sigh and leans on Yuu’s shoulder. “This is a mess, huh Prefect?”

“You said it.” Yuu replies. “I just wanna sleep forever.”

The supervillains go still.

“I’m sorry,” Snake Charmer says carefully. “But isn’t Enma-san the Prefect?”

“No?” Yuuken replies, confused. “Yuu’s the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. I’m their vice— or would be, if we had any other students apart from them, me, and Grim.”

Octo Dealer laughs, sounding slightly strained. “Ah, apologies, but you see, that isn’t possible. It can’t be. Yuu isn’t—”

“But I am the prefect, Azul-senpai.” Yuu the Prefect says. “I’ve–I’ve always been the prefect.”

There’s a stunned silence.

Royal Flush places his head in his hands. “What the fuck.”

Back in the Supervillain AU universe, Yuu the Reporter sneezes sharply while trying to wrangle five frightened teenagers, one frightened-but-playing-tough twenty year old, and one confused however-old-he-is-but-younger-than-Tsunotaro fae.

They wonder what the chill down their spine is.

[bubblesuga]

off the table.

Summary: Fate has an odd way of playing with your mind. When you leave Min Yoongi on his door step nearly a decade ago, you became positive that you would never find love again. Settling for a man you thought you could learn to love, you had given up on fully moving on. But again, fate likes to play.

W/C: 11,680

Genre: Idol!AU, smut, fluff

Warnings: cussing, smut, mentions of exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, Jimin is curious about Yoongi’s (non-existent) sex life, 

A/N: Based loosely off of Off The Table by Ariana Grande if you want a song to listen to as you read :) x

“So, this is it then?” 

“Yeah.” 

The near migraine-inducing memory always happens to flash in your mind at the worst times possible. Eight years ago, you found yourself standing at the front door of your ex boyfriend’s dorm with a solemn heart as he softly explained what his life was going to turn into. It was a short conversation, one the both of you had seen coming but neither of you wanted to admit it. 

As his new friends and new life began to form behind him in the small one bedroom apartment, you nodded, and you left with one last kiss to his rosy lips. His deep brown eyes bore into yours with just as much sadness that you felt before you dragged yourself away helplessly. 

Of course, now that you were 3 months into a new relationship, the memory decides to pop it’s way back into your brain as if it had just happened. A soft whisper in your mind gently coaxed you away from your latest fling and disassociated you from the moment entirely. He’s a nice guy, as well. Good head on his shoulders, smart with money, and loves to cook for you. So the sense of guilt you felt was tremendous because despite having this gorgeous man in front of you, your mind always flew back to him. 

It has become more and more difficult not to think of him considering the fact that his face is now everywhere. The news, the internet, your fucking cold brew... He was there, the same bright features and adorable nose. You wondered if he thought of you from time to time, how you’re doing or what you could be up to since you graduated university. With as hectic of a schedule that you’re sure he held, you highly doubted that you have been on his mind since the end. Knowing him, he threw himself into his work and hasn’t looked back. It shows in his music, though. You always knew that he would be successful. 

“...are you even listening to me?” 

The words dragged you out of your trance and you immediately set down your coffee, “What? Of course I am.” 

Junwoo couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “What was I talking about then?” 

Fuck. 

You push your hair back, a habit you developed recently as your desire to try and forget about your ex boyfriend has grown stronger, “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.” 

Maybe it hasn’t just been lately. Maybe every single time you feel Junwoo’s lips against yours, you can’t help but compare him to Yoongi. He didn’t need to know that, though. 

“Yeah, you use that a lot as your excuse. I’ll try not to bore you with tales from my clients anymore.” Junwoo slides the plate in front of you, a heart shaped kimchi pancake lay flat in the middle of it, and you feel your guilt grow stronger. 

“No! I love hearing about them, I- I think I need to see someone about what’s going on in my head.” You explain. You had yet to mention to anyone that you dated Suga of BTS before he was known as such. In fact, you’re pretty sure if you even hinted at it, you’d become the laughing stock of Seoul. It made it impossibly difficult to talk about your feelings with Junwoo. He always tries to pry, but you shut him down completely. 

“What’s going on? Is it serious?” concern laces his features and he sits carefully beside you at the table. 

“No, I just need someone to talk to.” you try to shake the feeling of discontent when his arm wraps around your shoulder. 

He leans his head on yours- “you can always talk to me.” -you shutter. 

“A professional, just to help me get back on my game. Regain control of...” you let out a soft sigh and feel Junwoo’s lips brush against your temple, “...myself.” 

“_____, I am a literal therapist.” 

“A literal therapist who is emotionally involved with me. Isn’t it inappropriate to make out with your patients?” You quirk, raising an eyebrow. 

He rolls his eyes again, “Okay. Let me know if you need recommendations. Us in the brain community are pretty tight-knit.” He stands up and runs a hand through your hair before trotting back to the kitchen to begin his own breakfast. 

You nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare down at your pancake, picking up the butter knife beside your plate and dragging it down the center with a grimace on your face. 

~*~*~

Even though you spent many years studying medicine, you didn’t think it would involve this much typing. Staring at patient charts has become a normal during your regular work day, especially since you’re boss decided that he didn’t need to look at the charts, he just wanted to hear from you. 

You’re a nurse, not a secretary. 

Today you were assigned to the emergency room, which was one of your favorite places to be. Everything was much faster than if you happened to be in post-op or general medicine, but the moment you enter the doors, you were piled with paperwork that you were sure a medical assistant could be doing. 

The drowning sounds of chatter and machine’s melodic beeping blended with your fingers as they typed name after name, number after number for an hour straight. Just as you thought your soul had completely drained from your body, you hear a tap on the desk. 

“H- hi, uh- my friend’s foot got cut open and we think he needs stitches. Is there any way that we could get seen quickly?” You glance up and your eyes immediately go wide. 

You remember meeting Namjoon a few times in passing when you were still seeing Yoongi, but he’s much taller than you remember. Instantly you feel your face go red, and you were frozen in place. Why the hell was Namjoon here? How did he manage to choose this hospital of all the ones in Seoul?

You happen to tear your eyes away from him for a second, glancing over and seeing Jungkook being held up by Jimin as his foot stays elevated in the air. The minute you see a t-shirt wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s foot, you move to action. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that! Let me get you a wheelchair,” you swing around the desk and grab one of the folded up wheelchairs and roll it towards Jungkook. He grimaces as he sits down, his foot crossed onto the opposite knee. Jimin seems relieved not to have his friend leaning on him anymore, and you pause for a second to assess the situation. 

“Jenni! Do we have an open bed anywhere?” You grab your co worker who walks passed you with her hands filled with bandages. 

“Back corner, we just cleaned it.” She calls back, walking without glancing at the people you’re trying to help. 

You nod, immediately walking Jungkook towards the back and gesturing for Namjoon and Jimin to follow. You grab an empty chart as you walk, before opening the curtain for the bed and allowing the three men to slide into the area. 

“I hate to be pushy but this really hurts.” Jungkook hisses as wrap your arm beneath his and slowly lift him towards the bed. Immediately, you slip gloves onto your hands and begin to unwrap the t-shirt. There’s quite a bit of blood, but not enough to have you worried that he hit an artery. 

Namjoon bites his lip before speaking, “I should have watched the stage better. I’m sorry.” 

Jungkook shrugs, wincing while he attempts to pull himself up higher, “It was hard to see. Not your fault, or anyone else’s.” 

“Except for the person who broke the stage.” Namjoon quips, rubbing his hands over his face, frustrated. 

“It’s fine, hyung. The pretty nurse is going to fix Kookie right up.” Jimin is quick to comfort both of his friends while simultaneously causing you to blush. 

It’s then that you notice the three of them in clothes similar to their rehearsal getup from all those years ago. Sweat lines each of their foreheads and you wonder just how this whole thing happened. 

After inspecting the wound, you whip towards the suture kit, “It is deep enough to require stitches. I’m going to call the doctor down and have her suture you up. Until then would you like me to numb the pain?” Even though you’re well aware who these men are, and how close you potentially are to your ex boyfriend, you can’t help but let your professional prowess overpower your incessant need to think of Yoongi.

Jungkook nods, “At this point I’ll take a shot of whiskey and something to knock me out.” 

You smile, “Unfortunately there isn’t any whiskey here. Believe me, I’ve been searching since I got here.” 

Namjoon chuckles from beside you as you put your finger up to let them know you’ll be right back. Pulling open the curtain, you meander over to the nurse’s station and pick up the phone to call the ER doctor down. As you wait for him, you grab all the supplies to clean Jungkook’s foot, including a Lidocaine injection. Before you get the chance to turn back around, you hear the ER doors burst open and see four sweaty men tearing their way into the hospital. 

Four sweaty men, including Min Yoongi. 

An uncharacteristic whimper leaves your lips as you spot the rest of the members, all rushing passed you when they see Namjoon stick his head out of the curtains. 

You feel all the blood drain from your face when the familiarity of Yoongi’s presence passes by you. Jenni notices your panic from the other side of the nurse’s station and lets out a little giggle, “Come on, you can’t get all shy just because they’re BTS. You have a job to do.” 

“I can’t go in there now, Jenni. You have to take over.” You turn back to her with wild eyes, desperately trying to hand her all the supplies you gathered. Your eyes continuously glance backwards, watching them pile in. Yoongi can’t see you, you won’t be able to look the man in the eyes. You can’t even begin to think about the embarrassment you will feel if Yoongi sees you. 

Jenni only laughs, “You’re a professional. Dr. Gwan will be down soon so you only have to be with them for a few moments.” 

In a last ditch effort, you call out to her as she walks towards another patient.

Okay. You’re panicking now. 

The universe has to be playing some sort of sick game on you right about now. You have not been able to get that stupid man off your mind lately and now here he was in your emergency room. First he’s worried about his brother but now he’s going to see you and want to chat and catch up. Knowing him, he’ll ask you for coffee and you’ll probably learn of his girlfriend or possible wife. He’ll wonder why you’re not married yet, and you’ll have to hide the fact that you haven’t been able to properly move on because of him. 

That’s only to say if he even remembers you. 

Taking a deep breath, you swallow your anxiety and enter the curtain. 

“Alright, Jungkook. Do you have any allergies that I should know about before I inject you with my magic numbing liquid?” It’s much more cramped in the room than it was before. The 6 members crowd to one side of the bed while you stand on the other. You refuse to look up for fear that Yoongi is going to recognize you.

“No allergies.” Jungkook shakes his head. 

“Good, good,” you lean forward, elevating Jungkook’s foot and removing the make shift bandage, “you’re gonna feel a slight pinch.” 

“He’s not going to lose his foot or anything, right?” A voice asks. You recognize it as Taehyung’s. 

“No,” you’re sure they can sense how rigid you are, “he’s not going to be able to dance for a little bit, but he’ll be back and better than ever in no time.” No one responds, and you finally make eye contact with Jungkook, “Are you ready?” 

Again, he nods, and you slowly push the needle into his foot. He cringes enough to jerk his upper body slightly, but Jimin is at his side just as quickly as it started. 

You dispose of the needle immediately afterwards, wrapping his foot up to keep pressure applied to the wound, “Okay, Dr. Gwan will be here soon. She’ll get you sutured up and I’ll be back later to check on you.” 

“Thank you, miss. It already feels better.” He sighs happily, relaxing backwards onto the pillow. 

You grin, momentarily forgetting that your ex boyfriend is 3 feet away, “Of course, Jungkook. That’s my job.” 

It’s then that you catch Yoongi’s eye for the first time that night. It’s not to say he didn’t recognize you before, but he wasn’t able to say anything once he saw you working. He was deathly still, the rest of the day leaving his mind when your shiny eyes met his. He sees you swallow, and you walk out without saying anything else. 

“That was _____.” Yoongi murmurs after a moment, staring at the swaying curtains where you once exited. 

The chatter stops instantly, and everyone turns to Yoongi. 

“The _____?” Hoseok questions, his eyes wide while he also turns to watch the curtains. 

Yoongi nods, his throat going dry as memories of you sleeping beside him at night when he had nothing to his name wash over him. You, with the exception of his brother, were the only person supporting him when he said he wanted a career in music. You applied to universities in Seoul so you could be closer to his dream, you were always so excited to hear his new music and you always told him that he was going to make it big. 

It’s not like Yoongi hadn’t thought of you since you broke up. He was a complete mess for months afterwards. His schedule solely consisted of working and rehearsing because he couldn’t bare to have a moment to himself. 

Yoongi repeatedly beat himself up for the way he ended things and more specifically, the reason he ended things. After getting into BigHit, Yoongi realized he was seeing less and less of you. You were so busy with med school and he was so busy with rehearsals that you were lucky to see each other once a week. He knew you’d be better off finding someone who could be there for you, and that it was best for him to focus on his career. 

He just wasn’t aware of how much that would kill him inside. 

“Well what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to go talk to her?” Seokjin pushes. There are times when Yoongi has to remind himself that he isn’t the oldest in the group, and that usually comes when Seokjin takes his role as older brother very seriously. 

Yoongi scoffs at the taller man, “What do you want me to say? ‘Hey I know it’s been 8 years but lets meet up for coffee and pretend like we didn’t break each other’s hearts’?” he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, “Besides, Jungkook needs us here while he gets his foot stabbed.” 

“Oh no, hyung,” Jungkook laughs, “I’m doing juuuust fine. You go talk to the pretty nurse.” 

Yoongi swallows, “What should I say?” 

Namjoon shrugs, “Whatever comes to mind.” 

Yoongi’s feet carry him out of the curtained off area, his eyes searching across the emergency room in an attempt to find you. He spots you at the desk by the front door, and with a nervous head tilt, he’s dragging himself towards you. 

The moment you left Jungkook, you threw yourself back into paperwork and became so immersed that you didn’t hear anything going on around you. Except for the soft footsteps pattering up to your station, which causes you to tear your eyes away from the chicken scratch handwriting on the chart in front of you. 

It’s silent for a beat, you can feel the heat rising to your ears as you look up at him. His hair is longer, different from the short style he’d gel up every morning before the break up. There’s more piercings on his ears, but at the core of the new flashy clothes and dyed hair, he’s still the same man who professed his love for you at 17 years old. 

“Hi.” he whispers. 

“...hi.” you respond, your hands still frozen over the keyboard as Yoongi fiddles with his fingers on top of the desk. 

“Thank you for helping-” Yoongi is cut off by another Nurse calling you over from a different bed in the emergency room. 

You give him a quick glance, “I’m sorry, duty calls.” 

Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken when you stand. He had a better look at the pink scrubs donned on your body, and the smile on his face was nearly uncontrollable when he realizes that you made it exactly where you wanted to be. Your dreams of helping people has now become a reality. 

You’re truly in your element, and Yoongi can tell. The concern on your face as you help a little girl sat in the center of a bed way too big for her was a sure fire way to know that you were in the right place.  

So, Yoongi doesn’t push a conversation. Instead, he walks back to his band mates and watches in awe as Dr. Gwan stitches up Jungkook’s foot. 

~*~*~

“He walked away.” 

“He walked away?!” 

“He. Walked. Away.” You emphasize to Jenni, holding your hands to your face while you let out a groan. 

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” she sets down her iced americano, the chatter of the hospital cafeteria drowned out by your conversation, “you dated Suga from BTS before he was famous, and he broke up with you because you were both leading different lives?” 

You nod. 

She continues, “and you see him in person for the first time in 8 years, and you don’t talk to him?!” 

“Wait why are you yelling at me?!” 

“Because, dummy,” she leans over the table and flicks your forehead, “he’s been on your mind a lot lately and suddenly he’s at your job! It’s not a coincidence.” 

It’s only been about a week since you saw Yoongi, and of course your attempts to get him out of your mind has been fruitless. 

“What am I meant to do? Drop everything and run to him?” You ask incredulously, angrily digging your spoon in your yogurt. 

Jenni waves her hand haphazardly, “No, no. You catch up with him, see how he’s doing now that he’s a world famous rapper- oh my god, _____ you let go of him?! You didn’t fight for him?!” 

“You said you weren’t going to judge me!” 

“That was before I learned exactly what you did! Dumb girl,” Jenni shakes her head disapprovingly, “and you’ve settled for Mr. Brainiac instead.” 

Jenni isn’t the biggest fan of Junwoo. 

“Mr. Brainiac is nice and sweet and knows how to treat me right,” You explain quietly, the fruit in your yogurt seemingly tasteless on your tongue, “but...”

“But he’s not Yoongi?” Jenni tilts her head. 

“I don’t think anyone can ever compare to Yoongi. I’m sure it’s unrequited at this point.” As much as you hate to admit it, that’s the part that broke your heart the most about seeing Yoongi. The fact that you couldn’t bare to look at him for more than a second, because it just wasn’t the same as before. It will never been the same as before. 

Jenni shrugs, “you won’t know until you find out.” 

“And I’m supposed to... what? Show up at his house?” 

Jenni’s eyes seem to trail behind you, and a grin on her face, “When is Jungkook supposed to get his sutures removed?”

Confused, you raise an eyebrow and turn around in your chair to see none other than the man of the hour, Min Yoongi. Instead of being dressed in rehearsal clothes like the other day, Yoongi wears all black with a silver bag wrapped around his torso. 

You whip back around and glare at Jenni, “I swear to god if you call him-” 

“Suga!” Jenni calls out before you can finish your sentence. Your head falls into your hands with another frustrated moan. Jenni waves her hand to him, Yoongi watching warily before he spots that you’re sat right across from her. 

He hesitates for a moment, noticing the way you drag knees to your chest which is a nervous tick you have had since before Yoongi had met you. However, he realizes that if he ever wants to talk to you, now would be the best time. Having followed Jungkook to the hospital for the sole purpose of possibly bumping into you, he had to make due with any interaction he could get. 

Jenni gets up and leaves as Yoongi walks his way over to you. Your head is now buried in your knees, but you hear the chair screech across from you. 

“Hi again.” 

You lift your head up, “Hi, Suga. How is life?” 

You can see hurt flash through Yoongi’s face at your use of his stage name, but he shakes it off, “Life is going pretty well. How about yours?” 

“It’s going well.” 

You still haven’t made direct eye contact with him. Despite having not seen you in person in so many years, his heart ached in his chest at the thought that you may still be hurt. Who is he kidding, though? He’s still hurt by the decision himself. 

With a sigh, he scoots his chair forward, “Are we going to pretend that there isn’t a history behind us?” 

You laugh bitterly, “Haven’t you been doing a pretty good job of that for the passed eight years?” 

Yoongi’s jaw drops. You don’t remember Yoongi ever showing his emotions so freely on his face. That was one of the good things from the interviews you have seen, those 6 boys have opened up Yoongi more and more to his emotions. You feel bad for your response, but you’re unsure how to apologize. 

“I didn’t want to end things just much as you didn’t,” He bites, ignoring the tinge in his heart, “I want to catch up. It’s nice seeing you again.” 

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, your yogurt seeming much more interesting than it was moments before. 

He clears his throat, “That’s okay.” 

“Because I had to move on.” 

“That’s okay.” He repeats, his fingertips drumming along the table top. He hasn’t been chewing his nails lately. That’s good for him. Though, the nervous habit has developed into something different, the drumming of his finger tips echoing more and more in your head as the awkward silence mulls on. Even in a loud cafeteria, your mind only focused on him.

With out thinking much of it, you reach your hand forward and place it on top of his to get the drumming to stop. Yoongi looks up at you while you hold your hand atop of his. For a moment, the silence continues as you stare into his deep brown eyes. You’re transported back to your late teens, where you felt as though you were on top of the world with Min Yoongi by your side. He stared at you as if you were his entire universe, spending night after night cuddled up together, talking about your dreams and aspirations while simultaneously chasing them together. 

Well, it used to be together, but instead you had to push yourself through your dreams alone.

Yoongi’s the first to break the silence, letting a dry chuckle fall effortlessly from his lips while he stares down at your touching hands, “You used to do the same thing if you saw me biting my nails.”

Even though you want to be mad, you wand to walk away and never speak to him again, you can’t. Instead, you nibble on your lip in an attempt to stifle your giggle. Yoongi notices and realizes he’s making good headway into conversation. 

“You told me to help you stop, the only thing that seemed to get you to stop was-” 

“Your touch?” Yoongi suggests, a teasing gummy grin on his face. 

“Yeah,” you finally let out a laugh, “my touch distracted you from a lot of things.” 

The people in the cafeteria didn’t seem to be bothered by the two of you in the center of the room. Busy doctors and nurses trying to get their lunch in, loved ones of patients desperately waiting to hear if their surgeries went well, all is forgotten as you fall into the same pit you found yourself in many years ago. Bottomless, but bright. Visions of the future dancing along you as you fall deeper and deeper. Although now, it seems to be visions of what could have been. 

“Of course it did, how could I focus when I had your pretty face in front of me?” Yoongi’s tone is still teasing, but melancholy wades through his words. 

You slip your hand away hesitantly, and Yoongi’s wrist twitches at the sudden loss of contact. “That’s the reason it ended, isn’t it?” 

This is a conversation that Yoongi is not ready for, but at this point he’ll take anything he can get with you, “What do you mean?” 

“You broke up with me because you knew I’d distract you from your dream.” 

He brings the hand you once held upward, scorching skin touching the back of his neck nervously as he takes a deep breath, “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t play a part.” 

You inhale and drop your legs from the edge of your chair before leaning forward. After years of questioning whether or not you would ever move on, you finally have the chance to get some closure. “What was the final straw?” 

He bites his lip, “I was able to fall asleep without you.” 

You didn’t think you’d be able to feel your heart sink as deep as it has. Even after all these years, your emotions are bubbling to the surface. How can something so simple break your heart so badly? 

“You were in school during the day and I was training at night,” he continues, “we never saw each other and I struggled for so long to fall asleep without you next to me. Then... one day my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep immediately.” 

Another knife to your chest. 

“Did you struggle at all? After the break up, I mean.” You try to search for some sense of regret in his eyes but he’s always been very good at putting up a wall and having people fight for a way in. 

He laughs bitterly, “Of course I struggled. Are you kidding me? I thought I was going to marry you, have kids with you. I was nearly inconsolable once it really set in that you weren’t going to be with me anymore.” 

You swallow anxiously, “But it was really for the best, yeah? You’ve got your career and I’ve got mine. We’re both successful. Given, you’re entirely more successful than I am but I’m happy with where I’m at.” 

“Don’t say that,” Yoongi breaths, “you worked your ass off to get to where you are, you’re just as successful as I am.” 

“You think we wouldn’t have got to where we are if we stayed together.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Yoongi seems to ponder on his answer. 

“I think we were young and didn’t know much about life. It was a shitty time for both of us, but I did and still do think that in some aspect of the word, you are my soulmate.” 

Your breath hitches at the word. 

Beyond already having thought this yourself, the realization that Yoongi thinks it as well causes your chest to flush with heat. The adoration you felt years ago when Yoongi’s hair was always styled neatly in a mohawk and you had no clue how to use eyeliner still rests itself neatly at the bottom of your heart. Hearing Yoongi even say the word ‘soulmate’ nearly reduced you to a puddle of tears. 

Yoongi notices that you haven’t let out a breath, “Fuck,” he’s panicking, running his hand anxiously through his hair, “fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to freak you out, I- I-” He cuts himself off and allows his head to fall into his hands. 

A moment passes, and he seems to gather himself once he hears you exhale, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you last. I dreamed about what I wanted to say to you and insisted on being the one to drive Jungkook to the hospital today with just the hope and slightest chance that I might run into you.” 

“What’s your plan here, then?” 

“I want to be friends.” He proposes. 

You scoff, “Do you have time for friends now?” 

He sighs, expecting the reply but still feeling his chest tighten, “Let’s hang out on a day where the two of us have nothing going on. When are you off next?” 

“I have a boyfriend.” You reiterate, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not a date,” he dismisses you, “just as friends. When are you off next?” 

Crossing your arms, you eye him suspiciously as he widens his eyes in an attempt to push you towards an answer. 

“Saturday.” 

“Great,” he breathes, “I’ll make sure I’m free that day too.” 

~*~*~

Maybe you are taking a bit too much time getting ready for a man who has already seen you at your worst. Maybe you purposely wore purple lipstick in an attempt to show that you have been paying attention to his career and maybe, just maybe, you are way too happy to be hanging out with Min Yoongi once again. 

That doesn’t take away from your nervousness, though. Your hand shakes as you finish applying your mascara. You don’t live in a nice mansion like Yoongi does, and you’re terrified that someone will spot him picking you up from your apartment and all hell will break loose. You’ve read some of the tabloids involving anyone close to the group, so your anxiety is nearly palpable. 

“Get a grip,” you whisper to yourself, “you’ve seen this man naked before. There’s no need to be nervous.” 

As you finish your make up, you move on to your hair but stop once you hear a knock on your door. 

Yoongi isn’t supposed to be here for another half hour. 

“Fuck.” you whisper, standing quickly from your vanity mirror and rushing towards the front door in a panic. You peep through the lens in the door, confusion striking you when you spot Junwoo. 

The lock turns loudly and you slide open the door, “Hi?”

His eyes raise from the ground until he meets yours, “You’re awfully dressed up just to be hanging at home.” 

“I have plans.” You state, slipping your undone hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help but notice the instant meekness you felt take over your body the moment you saw Junwoo. 

“With me?” He questions, stepping into your apartment. His black hair is pushed back with way too much gel to be comfortable, the honey brown eyes that usually comforted you suddenly made you feel uneasy. 

You shake your head in response, “An old friend. He and I are-” 

“He?” Junwoo cuts you off, much louder than he was moments before. You take a step back at the sudden change of tone, your jaw nearly dropping at his audacity. 

“Yes, he. Is that a problem?” It was probably in your best interest not to challenge Junwoo. If there is anything you learned in your short time together it’s that he was very good at manipulating your words. He claims it’s his way of reading deeper into the situation but you think your intentions are pretty surface-level. 

Junwoo didn’t seem to expect your attitude, backing down immediately with a nervous scratch to the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know how I feel about you hanging out with another guy.” 

A scoff leaves your mouth as you scan Junwoo’s posture change, “Are you one of those people who assumes men and women can’t be platonic friends?” 

“Yes.” 

Well, at least he’s honest. 

You roll your eyes, “I can assure you that he’s just a friend.” 

A friend who you have a long, egregious history with. A friend who’s lips have touched every inch of your body, has seen you break down over text books and has kissed away your tears when you were beginning to reach adulthood. 

But yeah, a friend nonetheless. 

“Are you still going to hang out with him if I tell you I’m uncomfortable with it?” Junwoo presses, puffing out his chest. 

“I don’t feel like you have the right to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with,” you furrow your brows, “why are you even here?” 

“I wanted to take you to the park, but that’s not important. Were you going to tell me that you were going out with a guy?” Man, Junwoo’s ability to annoy the fuck out of you has seemingly grown beyond a point of retribution in the short 10 minutes he’s been in front of you. 

As you open your mouth to respond, another knock sounds on the door. You let out a small groan, reaching towards the doorknob and turning it swiftly. On the other side is Yoongi, a striped black and white button down unbuttoned on his torso with a white t-shirt underneath. He’s certainly gotten a better fashion sense. 

“Hi, Yoongi. I’m almost ready,” you send a glare in Junwoo’s direction, “I have to finish my hair and I’ll be ready.” 

Junwoo is staring wide-eyed at Yoongi with his jaw dropped. Yoongi looks back at him and subtly crinkles his nose, just enough for you to spot it. 

After a moment, you break the silence, “Yoongi, this is Junwoo. Junwoo,” you gesture to Yoongi, “Suga of BTS.” 

Yoongi lets out a laugh, “Stop introducing me like that to people.” 

“That is your name, isn’t it?” You tease, spinning the black hat on his head backwards. “Anyway, are you heading out, Junwoo?” 

“You didn’t tell me that it was Suga you were hanging out with.” Junwoo speaks accusingly, making you realize that you truly didn’t make any progress throughout your entire conversation. 

“He’s an old friend,” you explain, “I’ll call you later.” 

Junwoo opens his mouth but closes it again. You know it’s more than likely because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of someone so influential. Junwoo cared too much about his image to do anything to disrupt it. One bad word from Yoongi and he was done for. 

Silently, he steps out of your apartment but doesn’t hesitate on slamming the door shut. 

Yoongi glances at you and points to the door, “Him?” 

“I never claimed to make good decisions.” You sigh, causing Yoongi to giggle. “Anyway, let me finish my hair. Help yourself to anything here.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

You hesitate for a moment before deciding that you didn’t have anything in particular that Yoongi could accidentally get his hands on that would be embarrassing. 

As you walk out of the room, Yoongi runs his fingers along the picture frames on your wall. He remembers these pictures previously sitting on your desk in your parents’ house. Now they were lined perfectly across the off-white painted wall in your living room, images of your family and close friends filling the black painted frames. 

He smiles at the picture of your mother, you’re an exact replica of her. One of the first things he struggled with beyond not seeing you anymore was the fact that he wouldn’t see your family. Despite your relationship being short lived in the beginning, he had grown very close to your family in the process. After the break up, your mother called Yoongi repeatedly asking if he needed food and clothes. He knows that you gained your big heart from her, and he wishes that he can speak with her again. 

Moving on, he spots the familiar picture of you leaning against a bookshelf with Le Fleurs Du Mal by Charles Baudelaire gripped loosely in your hands. He remembers that picture from the end of high school, you insisted on stopping by the local Daegu city library one last time before you both moved to Seoul. Yoongi snapped the picture as an opportunity to remember your hometown, because he was sure the two of you would never be back there again. You would stay together and conquer the world, but unfortunately that never happened. 

Yoongi can’t help but run his fingers along the side of your face, your smile hiding behind the book. Yoongi’s reflection can be seen in the window behind you, his grin just as wide as yours. 

You were in love, and Yoongi misses that.

Of course now it’s not like he can do anything about that. You have a boyfriend who is clearly very loving and trusting in you. 

Yoongi wasn’t necessarily sure what his plan was when he was searching for you in the hospital, nor was he sure what his plan is now that he has you within arms reach of him. Namjoon was sure to tell him how stupid he was for even attempting to get involved with you again even though you have a boyfriend but Yoongi didn’t care. So long as you were in his life somehow, he was willing to make it work. Friends, maybe more. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted whatever he could get. 

He did...okay for a few years without you. He dated on and off but never really developed a connection with anyone the way he had you. He couldn’t help but compare everyone who came into his life to you no matter how hard he tried not to. It’s laughable at best, because deep down in his mind he’s well aware that nobody will ever compare to you. 

“Okay, I’m ready.” 

Yoongi tears his eyes away from the picture and instantaneously rakes his eyes up and down your body, “Whoa.” 

Dressed in a simple leggings and plaid button down combination, it accentuates your curves and causes Yoongi’s mouth to water. 

You let out an embarrassed giggle, “I, uh- I wasn’t sure what we were doing to I tried to dress casually.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop his eyes from staring at your hips, “It works. Everything about you, works.” 

“Careful now.” You warn jokingly, putting a hand out in an attempt to pause his thoughts. 

Yoongi shakes his head, “Okay, I have a reservation ready for us.” 

You lead him out your door and to the car park, “You better not be taking me to some expensive restaurant because I won’t hesitate to kill you.” 

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, opening the passenger side door for you, “but if you still love chicken then I may have found the greatest restaurant in existence.” 

Slipping into his car, you wait to respond until he moves over to the drivers side and turns the car on. “You remember that I love chicken?” 

He smiles, gummy and bright just like before, “I remember everything about you.” 

You ignore the flutter in your heart at his words, and sit silently beside him while the radio plays softly from his speakers. The car is far nicer than the one he used to have, and the seats have a warmer that Yoongi seemed to know the perfect temperature of. As he continues to drive on, you try not to watch the way his left hand grips the steering wheel and his right sits idly on his thigh. 

8 years ago, that hand would have been resting on your thigh, fingertips brushing the inner part of your softest flesh while you leaned your head back listened to the melodic tunes of whatever song he made most recently. A few of those tunes have been turned into BTS songs, and you still felt beyond proud of him. 

“Okay, we have to go around the back and through the kitchen. I just don’t want to risk-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, waving your hand dismissively, “you’re hot shot famous guy now. Don’t want to risk getting seen with a lady.” 

Yoongi chuckles, “I may be some hot shot famous guy but I’m still the same person I was a decade ago.” 

You watch as he turns the car off, “Prove it.” 

“What?” He laughs in disbelief. 

“Prove that you’re the same person you were all those years ago.” You push, tongue in cheek while you smirk at the man beside you. He seems to ponder for a moment, puckering his lips in thought before he exits the car and runs over to your side of the car. 

“Come on,” he gestures for you to get up, “hurry up.” 

“Hold your horses, Mister.” you adjust the bag around your torso as you stand and let your eyes fall back to Yoongi. His back is to you and his knees are bent. Hands reach backwards for you and he turns to look at you expectantly. 

Tilting your head, you smile as you hop onto Yoongi’s back. A move he’d do regularly when you’d spend hours on your feet interning at various hospitals around the city. His large hands gripped the back of your thighs and you let out a squeal as he hikes you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. 

It takes a moment for him to steady his walk as he leads you carefully up to the back door. You lean upward and knock on the back door labeled “staff only” and wait patiently as you feel Yoongi adjust you again. 

“You used to carry me around like this all the time.” You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. It didn’t feel weird hugging him like this. Natural instincts kicked in and the whiff of his cologne had you reeling. It’s exactly the same as he wore before, and his hair smelled of coconut conditioner. Before you would turn his head and kiss his lips every time you caught his scent, and it’s taking everything in you right now not to do exactly that. 

“I did,” you can hear the smile in Yoongi’s voice, “and you never reciprocated.”

“I’ll give you a piggy back on the way out, how about that?” You pat the top of his head as the door opens to reveal a very confused looking employee. 

A sheepish smile is held on Yoongi’s face while the employee realizes who he is. “Mr. Min,” he bows his head, “lovely to have you again. We have your usual table set up in the back.”

“Awesome,” Yoongi drawls sweetly, “lead the way!” 

Heat fills your face as the kitchen staff of the unnamed restaurant watch curiously while Yoongi walks you to the table. 

He doesn’t allow you to get off, instead he turns around and drops you onto the booth seat as you try to silence the squeal that leaves your mouth. Yoongi only laughs as he flips back around to see the top half of your body slip between the table and the seat. He’s quick to help you up but his arms grow weak from laughing so he takes a few moments to pull you back up. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, the ridiculousness of the situation bringing back memories.

“I’m sorry,” he says, inhaling another laugh as he slips into the seat opposite of you, “I didn’t think you would fall.” 

You adjust the hat on your head, “It’s fine, I didn’t need my equilibrium to work properly anyway.” 

Yoongi can’t help but watch you carefully as you open the menu. Your nose still crinkled when you came across a dish you may not particularly like, and your eyes widened whenever you saw something that you thought looked good. 

Both of you decided on a beer to drink and various flavors of dry rub wings to enjoy. As you waited on your food to be cooked, you sip your beer and suck your teeth while you decide whether or not you want to ask him all your dying questions. 

Deciding to start small, you took a deep breath as Yoongi met your eyes, “How much did they have to fight you to get you to start dancing?” 

He let out a sigh of relief, half expecting the awkwardness of your history together to take over, “I almost quit like four times, I won’t lie.” 

You giggle, “I figured. You do well, though. I was amazed by your Seesaw performance when you started dancing on your own up there. Genuinely was the last thing I expected. 

Yoongi doesn’t respond, he only smiles widely with his head rested gently on his hand. You tilt your head as his eyes scan yours, “What?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the world to swallow you up at the thought that you could have come across as weird or creepy by knowing so much about Yoongi’s career. 

“You watch my performances?” He questions, his smile not dropping. A hint of pink brushes the tip of his nose. 

“Of course,” you say almost incredulously, “you’re everywhere. It’s hard not to.” 

“What’s your favorite song?” Yoongi presses, leaning forward to show you’ve piqued his interest. 

Okay, there’s no way you’re going to let him think he has some sort of head over you.

“Cypher part 3.” you say confidently. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, nibbling on the bottom of your lip for a moment before deciding to say why it was your favorite, “specifically the part where you say you’re a starfish feeding off the envy of others.” 

“Ah, yes. Truly a fan favorite. You should hear the cheers when I explain what my tongue can do.” Yoongi whispers the latter half of his sentence, causing your throat to go dry. His tongue is skillful in many ways, not just rapping, and you were well aware of that. Decadence rested on the tip of his tongue, and you’d like to think that you contributed to his *ahem* practice. 

He pulls away with a cheeky grin just as the waiter comes by with steaming plates of food. 

The affect that his words had on you still amazes you to this day. Maybe he does have a head above you, and maybe you’re okay with that. 

The rest of the dinner goes by with a breeze, the two of you laughing over drinks and trying each other’s food. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a comfortable fit with Yoongi, even though so much time had passed. It was like he never left, and he truly is still the same person he was before. He laughs the same, his shoulders shakes and his grin is always huge. Although his hair style changes and his fashion sense has gotten better, you still see the old Yoongi poking out whenever he laughed particularly hard. 

Being face to face with him has allowed you to compare to the younger him, though. His face has slimmed and his voice has gotten deeper, the adam’s apple you kiss at night was larger than before and his neck was longer. Despite all that, he was still the same. Fame hadn’t changed him a bit. 

The moment the check comes you snatch it up quickly. 

“_____.” the way Yoongi says your name shoots a chill down your spine, but you ignore it when you slip your cash into the designated sleeve. 

“Yoongi.” You mock, handing the sleeve back to the waitress who seems scared of Yoongi’s deep tone. 

“I was supposed to pay.” He pouts, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Be faster then.” You grin, standing up and crouching in front of Yoongi’s side. 

He laughs, remembering your promise from earlier and slipping onto your back. The path you to through the kitchen is a bit less crowded now, but you felt the same amount of eyes on you the entire time. You felt much less embarrassed about it now, though, because Yoongi had a way of calming you down even at your worst points. 

“The night is still young,” Yoongi speaks as he slips off of your back and unlocks his car, “would you like to revisit Yongsan Park?” 

“Always.” 

It wasn’t a far drive from the restaurant, and it was spent mostly talking about music and the new album that Yoongi was extremely proud of. Of course you had already listened to it but you didn’t want to take away from his excitement of showing you some of the songs. 

When you made it to the park, the lights lining the jogging path were already on. You hadn’t expected it to be so dark yet but fall time always had a habit of sneaking up on you. 

There was an intense rush of nostalgia associated with this park for the both of you. Nights where the two of you huddled close under the stars were spent here, right beneath the biggest tree in the park. It was unspoken that that was your spot, and you hadn’t been to it since you broke up. 

Yet, muscle memory kicks in and both of your legs carry you right to the tree. 

“Isn’t it funny how we spent so many nights here?” You bring up as you sit at the base of the tree. 

Yoongi nods, “So many nights in this exact spot.” 

“I love it here, it was our spot.” 

Yoongi’s proximity to you is much closer than it should be but neither of you are making any move to change it. His shoulder brushes against yours and you resist the urge to rest your head on his shoulder. 

“It still is.” He corrects, tapping your knee gently with his hand and resting in there. 

You freeze for a moment, not knowing how to process his touch anymore but you can’t push him away. In fact, you’re relishing in the heat burning on your skin beneath his hand. It’s one of the best feelings in the world. 

“Do you remember when you tried to scare me by climbing a tree and the branch broke?” Yoongi looks up, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh at the memory. 

“Yeah but that was because I was trying to get you back for pouring ice water on me when I fell asleep on my text book.” You roll your eyes at the memory, distinctly remembering the chill on your back while Yoongi cackled in your small one bedroom apartment. 

That same cackle leaves Yoongi’s lips from beside you. You snap your head towards him, “Oh you think it’s funny still?” 

“Yeah,” his laugh turns into a giggle, “you can still see the broken branch.” 

“What?” You glance up, and sure enough the branch is still gone. Your jaw drops and you use your hands to push Yoongi over. He doesn’t fight you on it and falls with ease even though you didn’t use very much pressure at all, and you’re quick to try and wrestle him down. “It must be so funny,” you groan as you try to pin him down, straddling your legs on either side of his waist, “to still be pinned by- holy shit you’ve gotten strong.” 

Yoongi takes his opportunity to flip the two of you over, switching positions and easily pinning your hands on either side of your head. Vaguely, you wonder how much time it took for him to gain so much strength, but your mind quickly shifts once you realize the precarious position that Yoongi has put you in. 

Glancing down, you see his hips rest just above your navel, and images of the many nights you shared together flash through your mind. Rushed breathing and sweaty skin sticking together as you explored each other’s bodies and always found new ways to please each other. Briefly, a rush of heat flashes through your lower abdomen at the way your imagination flushes with possibilities of Yoongi’s touch. 

You inhale, your chest heaving and Yoongi’s eyes fly to the way your cleavage displays itself for him. You’ve gotten fuller than before, and it suits you. He’s enjoying every second of it. 

Before he can stop himself, he leans down and smashes his lips onto yours. The grip on your wrists loosen just enough for you to slip out and have your hands flying to his cheeks. He tastes the same as he did before, his smell intoxicating as it fills your nose. Your senses are overwhelmed with him, his tastes, his scent, the way his lips feel against yours. The familiarity is there, but they feel new and exciting at the same time, like you were pushed back to your youth. 

He exhales against you as if he’s been waiting all night to do just this. Slipping his legs out from beneath him, he presses his chest against yours as your hands slide to the back of his neck to hold him against you. The rest of the world falls, dissolving into nothing. You keen helplessly as you feel him grind against you, and that noise seems to push Yoongi over the edge. He growls into your mouth, pulling away to start his descent onto your neck with bites and licks in all the places you loved before. 

Arching into him, your hands loop through his black locks with a gasp as his tongue licks at your wine kissed collarbones. 

This is everything you’ve been wishing for. Everything feels so right. 

Yet, it’s wrong. You need to stop him. You need to ask him to pull away. But you can’t. He feels too fucking good. It’s not until he reaches the stop of your chest, his fingers hesitantly reaching at your collar does he look into your eyes for permission. 

And you stop him. 

“I- I think I need to go have a very uncomfortable conversation with Junwoo.” You state, and Yoongi’s face drops. 

“I can’t believe you still managed to think about him when I was kissing you.” He says nearly incredulously, crawling off of you and leaning his back against the tree again. His chest is rising and falling faster than before, showing that your affect on him was much stronger than you previously had thought. 

Your heart twinged at Yoongi’s cold tone. You swallow, “If you think there’s a possibility of us continuing this, I have to end things with Junwoo.” 

Yoongi whines, “Why now?” 

You let out a little giggle, sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder like you wanted to before. “Even if I didn’t do it right now, I don’t think we could go any further in the middle of a park.” 

“I thought you liked exhibitionism.” Yoongi leans to the side, kissing you once again. It’s much breathier than before, and he prays that you don’t feel his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage at the mere thought of someone catching the two of you outside. 

You gasp into the kiss and force yourself to pull away even though you didn’t want to at all. Giving him a look, Yoongi sighs. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll drive you home so you can have that uncomfortable conversation.” He mutters, standing up and pulling you with him. He’s much more touchy than before, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders while he guides you back to his car. 

The conversation you’re about to have with Junwoo will truly be one of the most anxiety inducing things you’ve ever done. 

~*~*~

The dorms are dark when Yoongi arrives back. The living room in which everyone has a tendency to congregate after a particularly grueling practice day holds no one, a small reminder that everyone finally got some well deserved rest. 

He hums softly to the tune of ‘People’, one of his favorite songs from his recent mixtape and opens the fridge to grab a bottle of water. When he closes it, Jimin is standing on the other side. 

Yoongi jumps, “Jesus fucking christ, Park Jimin!” 

“Didja get back together with her?” 

“What?” Yoongi takes a second to assess Jimin’s pajama clad body, “N- no. We just hung out.” 

“It’s a shame,” Jimin reaches forward and grabs the water bottle from Yoongi’s hand, “I heard you humming so I figured you finally got laid.” Yoongi opens his mouth to protest but Jimin continues before he can, “You know, I’ve known you for so long and I don’t think you’ve ever had a woman sign an NDA? Have you even had sex since you broke up with the pretty nurse?” 

“I feel like that’s none of your business.” Yoongi yanks the water bottle back, opening it and praying that Jimin didn’t backwash. 

“But it is my business because I have no clue how you did it. I’m sure she was fucking other guys regularly. I hear it’s bad for women to go without sex because they turn into-” Yoongi attempts to drown out the sounds of his roommate, his hand gripping the counter top tightly with unwanted images of you in another man’s bed ripping through his brain, “-and I’ve always wondered what it was like to only ever have your hand to get yourself off. Is it lonely? How much porn do you-” 

“Jimin!” Yoongi shouts. 

“Cutting me off is awfully rude, don’t you think?” 

“Shut. the. fuck. up.” Yoongi grits his teeth, moving to walk away as Jimin laughs. 

“Called it! I knew you were a born again virgi-” 

“Goodnight!” Yoongi calls back, walking up to his room and locking the door behind him. He plops down onto his bed, the TV situated perfectly level with his bed. It’s a stark contrast to the small black and white TV he could afford all those years ago, so the familiar sound of his TV sounding on brings a smile to his face as he realizes yet again how fortunate he’s become. 

Now he’s determined to make sure you feel the same sense of fortune that he has. Because he has you back in his life. Was it a twist of fate or the inevitability of soulmates, Yoongi isn’t sure. However, he’s immensely grateful to have you back, even if you’re not truly his yet. 

~*~*~

"I’m breaking up with you.” 

“What?!” 

You cover your mouth as the unexpected sentence leaves your mouth. Junwoo sits in his office with his fists clenched tightly on top of his desk. He’s never been particularly good at hearing bad news, and even though it’s only been a few months you feel as though you’re signing divorce papers judging my his reaction. 

It’s been two days since you last saw Yoongi. You put off speaking to Junwoo for a little bit to try and figure out exactly what you were going to say to him. You had a whole speech ready, talking about how he deserves better and that he’ll find his soulmate eventually. 

But when the moment came, your speech was practically thrown to the ceiling fan and torn into a million pieces.

“W- why? What did I do?” Junwoo asks, he seems more angry than anything which you didn’t expect. 

“You didn’t do anything,” you sigh, plopping in the seat on the other side of his desk, “I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” 

“Everything was going so well!” Oh god, he’s yelling. “It’s that fucker Suga’s fault, isn’t it? He’s putting you up to this!” 

“Fucking hell, Junwoo! How old are you, honestly? Immediately assuming that it was Yoongi is the most childish thing you could have done.” It is Yoongi, though. You know that, and unfortunately Junwoo knows that as well. It isn’t in good conscience to deny his allegations but you can’t help but do so. 

Though, the inevitability of your relationship ending would have happened with out without Yoongi’s push. 

“Well excuse me for thinking you would fuck a member of the biggest band on the planet! For God’s sake, any whore would drop their pants for one of them.” 

Your jaw drops, “I didn’t fuck him.” 

Junwoo rolls his eyes, “Are you sure? Because it’s almost like I could smell the stench coming off of you.” 

You place your tongue in your cheek, biting back a response. Should have figured the man wouldn’t know how to take a break up. 

Then, you laugh, “Okay. You got me, I fucked him.” 

“I knew it.” Junwoo’s nostrils flare. 

“Hundreds of times, eight years ago,” You spit, standing up quick enough for the chair behind you to tip over. “it wasn’t working out anyway and clearly that’s for the best. The last thing I need is a chauvinist asshole who refuses to see what was right in front of him.” 

“I-” 

“No,” you put your hand up, “I’m done.” 

You turn around swiftly, walking out of his office and ignoring the stares from his receptionists. Surely they heard the yelling and the last thing you needed was to feel judged. 

Except you weren’t being judged. Just before you reached the elevator, one of the girls spoke out. “You’re the second break up he’s had this week, don’t feel bad.” 

You turn around, watching her flick vivaciously through a magazine. “What was that?” You speak slowly, turning around walking up to the desk. 

“Another woman came by earlier this week, she said he’s been fucking some nurse behind her back and threw a ring at him.” She shrugs, then leans forward with a whisper, “You’re better off without him.” 

You scoff, “and I had the decency to break up with him before I fucked someone else. Thanks for the tip, darling.” 

As soon as the elevator doors close, you whip out your phone and text Yoongi. 

To: Suga Delivered: 13:52

Deed is done if you still want me to come by 

You make it to your car and hear your phone ding. 

From: Suga Received: 13:57

I’ll meet you outside

Your heart flutters, so you start your car and drive as quickly as you can towards the directions of the dorm. It’s not hard, everyone in Seoul is keenly aware of where BTS stay, but there’s an unspoken rule that nobody is to bother them. One of the things you enjoyed most about this whole situation is the amount of respect they boys have earned, and you couldn’t feel more proud of Yoongi. 

The gated group of buildings is intimidating to say the least, but you’re unable to contain your excitement as you pull up. Yoongi is a few feet away, waving from the other side of the gate as he presses a few buttons before you hear the gate click and begin to side open. 

Your excitement over simply seeing him is nearly too much to contain. A week ago you struggled to not get nauseous at the thought of him seeing you but now you didn’t know how you ever made it without him. Inching your car forward became an arduous task because it took precious seconds away from you being able to kiss Yoongi once again. 

So, you throw your car into park as the gates slip closed behind you and run out of your car to jump towards Yoongi. 

He catches you, immediately slamming your lips onto his. It’s soft this time, the urgency isn’t there but he doesn’t mind the feeling of your hands gently tugging at his hair and scratching his scalp. 

“Mm,” he hums against your lips, “does this mean you’re mine again?” 

“With some adjustments to both of our lives,” you smile, “and making time for each other, then I’m willing to try again.” 

“Good,” he grins, “let me take you inside and show you how much I’m gonna try.” 

He slides you down his torso and grabs your hand, yanking you closely behind him. You let out a quiet yelp as he does so, following him into the building and welcoming the warmth that greets you. You’re lead through a long hallway but are stopped abruptly once Yoongi spots Hoseok walking through the living room. 

“Hey pretty nurse, and Yoongi.” Hoseok says without looking up, and Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief. 

You give him a questioning look but shake it off when Yoongi leads you up a lot of stairs and straight to his bedroom. 

“Okay, there’s two ways this can go-” Yoongi slips his shirt over his head and you try to process everything as it’s happening because holy shit you’re going to fuck Yoongi for the first time in years and might actually be able to have an orgasm “-slow and steady or hard and fast.” 

“Save the romance for next time,” you giggle, slipping your dress over your head and falling backwards onto his bed, “I haven’t had you inside me in years. Hard and fast.” 

He chuckles, “You got it baby.” 

He jumps on top of you, his hand flying to your thigh to steady your leg as he grinds his still clothed cock into your core. He’s already hard, and you’re already dripping. The last two days you spent not being near him was the most difficult thing you had experienced because you knew what was coming and how he was going to do it. 

And you’re loving every second of it. 

Spreading your legs wide, you reach between the two of you and play with the hem of his boxers. He groans into your mouth, inching upward so your hand slips further in, “No teasing, baby girl. Hard and fast.” 

“Right, yes. I’m sorry.” you bite his bottom lip before lifting your hips and feeling his hands loop on either side of your panties to slip them down your legs. He drops between your legs immediately and inhales your scent, tossing his head back in pleasure. 

“Fuck, just like I remember.” Yoongi dives back, his nose brushing against your aching clit while his tongue darts out and licks your quivering hole. You let out a quiet moan but are quick to cover your mouth as you remember there are six other men on the other side of these thin walls. 

The pleasure of knowing that he remembers your scent is enough to send you feral, your back arching off the bed as his lips finally wrap around your clit and sucks hard. The obscene sound of him drinking in your juices fills the room, his groans against your core sending chills up your spine. If there was anything you knew about Min Yoongi, it’s that he knew how to use his tongue. 

You fill your core begin to heat up as your orgasm builds and before you know it, you’re uncovering your mouth and letting out a moan loud enough to be heard for miles. 

Yoongi can’t help but smirk against you as he drinks in your release, moving to trail kisses up your abdomen as you come down from the pleasure. 

“You ready for more?” He kisses your lips, and it���s then that you notice his cock his gloriously hard against his stomach, boxers long discarded. 

“Please, yes. Please please plea-” 

“Alright, hold your horses.” Yoongi jokes, brushing the head of his cock against your slit a few times teasingly. 

You pout, “You said no teasing.” 

He nods, “I can’t help it. Your face is so cute when you’re begging for my cock.” 

As you’re thinking of a rebuttal, Yoongi finally slips inside. Both of you moan in pleasure at the clenching of your core. He remembers exactly how to move to get you to gasp, how deep to move to get you to clench, and he remembers what each of your movements mean. Your nails currently dig into his back harshly but he doesn’t complain, because that means his thrusts are going at just the right speed. 

He wishes you can scream like you used to, but he realizes how weird that could be for his bandmates to hear. However, he can’t say that he necesarily minds all things considered. He’d love for Jimin to hear what he’s doing to you after the way his smart mouth moved the other night. He could imagine his face as he listens, but then Yoongi is dragged back to the moment when he feels you clench particularly hard. 

You feel him tensing more and more, struggling to hold on as your vice grip on him tightens even further. The soft sponge of your warm cunt is nearly too much for him to bare, and as you feel your second orgasm approach, you grip Yoongi’s face in your hands, “Cum for me. Please.” His eyes flutter closed and he begins to thrust faster, lips on yours and sweat building on both of your foreheads. Then, your second orgasm washes over you deliciously, Yoongi’s hips stuttering before he follows with his own release, his cum coating your walls white. He’s still for a moment, gasping above you. When you reach up and brush the hair from his forehead, he collapses on top of you, “Fuck, that’s even better than I remembered.” 

“Good,” you giggle, kissing his nose, “because there’s so much more I want to try with you.”

His heart flutters irrevocably, knocking the wind out of him when he realizes that you’re in this for the long run just as he is. This time he swears he’s going to make it work, and he plans on spending the rest of his life with you. 

His lips brush against you once again, then he speaks. 

“Write me a list, baby girl.” 

[blossom-hwa]

Okay I'm super sorry if I'm requesting too many things but I was listening to holiday music while driving home from work yesterday and was suddenly struck by the need for some chaotic holiday/winter shenanigans with the boyz, if that's okay? Reader involvement isn't necessary! Pretty please and thank you sooo much ❤❤❤ -🌻

You’re not requesting too many things don’t worry Sunny!!! I literally owe you everything for half the fics I’ve written in the past year so there’s no way I could refuse, also this is what the drabble game is for!! I hope you enjoy this half-baked bullshit LMAO

3-year anniversary drabble game: send me an NCT/WAYV/Stray Kids/The Boyz member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

(don’t think I've mentioned it but all of these text aus are in the same universe lol)

(also this ended up not being as holiday-ish as you probably wanted.... SORRY)

~

Title: Holiday Shenanigans

Pairing: no pairings, just the boyz being dumb

Triggers: a lot of cursing

~

quick clarification:

papi: sangyeon

angel: jacob

moon scribblez: kevin

new kid: chanhee

starbucks tissues: changmin

sundae: sunwoo

bread: younghoon

the better hyun: hyunjae

the better jae: eric

professional rollerblader: juyeon

foodie: haknyeon

~

new kid: I'm going to commit murder

sundae: who’s he making empty threats about this time

new kid: IT’S NOT AN EMPTY THREAT

moon scribblez: who wants to hear about the cockroach that fucking crawled out of my mop today!!

papi: pls don’t tlalk about it I was scarred for life

moon scribblez: IT’S YOUR TUTORING CENTER IT’S Y O U R FAULT WE HAVE A COCKROACH INFESTATION

papi: it’s not an infestation Kevin

new kid: is no one going to pay attention to my murder

angel: I will! but I won’t be an accessory

moon scribblez: I BEG TO FUCKING DIFFER

moon scribblez: THAT THING WAS HUGE IT WAS MORE LIKE A SPIDER JFC

new kid: I love you jacob

moon scribblez: IF I SHAKE THE FUCKING MOP TODAY AND COCKROACHES CRAWL OUT I’M QUITTING MY FUCKING JOB

angel: love you too <3

sundae: /barfs/

papi: #1 sunwoo just bc you’re allergic to emotion doesn’t mean the rest of us are

papi: some of us are capable of love

new kid: JI CHANGMIN ISN’T

papi: #2 I don’t own the center I'm just the center director therefore I do not take responsibility for any possible infestations we may have

starbucks tissues: I heard my name :D

new kid: sTOP FUCKING TERRIFYING ME WHEN I’M JUST TRYING TO WORK

new kid: IT’S ALMOST C H R I S T M A S HALLOWEEN IS G O N E

papi: therefore take it up with the owners @ moon scribblez

starbucks tissues: but it’s always halloween :(

moon scribblez: I TOOK THE MOP TO THE SINK

moon scribblez: PUT IT THERE AND TURNED ON THE FAUCET

moon scribblez: A FUCKING BROWN SPIDER-LOOKING COCKROACH BITCH ASS C R A WL E D OUT

moon scribblez: AND YOU WON’T TAKE RESPONSIBILITY??????????

papi: I just deal with the parents and the kids not bugs

new kid: it is NOT ALWAYS FUCKING HALLOWEEN

new kid: IF YOU WANT TO CELEBRATE

new kid: CELBRATE C RH SI T MA S 

moon scribblez: time to pin it on ella

starbucks tissues: :(

sundae: now look what you’ve done chanhee

sundae: you’ve made him sad

new kid: I GOT TERRIFIED BY A NUN MASK AND YOU CARE ABOUT IF H E’ S SAD????????????????

starbucks tissues: :(

angel: I think I'm going to head out

angel: I don’t think even I can heal this rift

moon scribblez: well if jacob’s out I'm out

moon scribblez: I have a solution to my problems 

papi: just don’t get me involved

moon scribblez: no promises !

starbucks tissues: I can scare ella if you want kevin :)

moon scribblez: YES FUCKING PLEASE

papi: I'm going to get fired

moon scribblez: maybe so :D

new kid: no one cares about my problems I see

new kid: everyone hates me

sundae: ya it’s bc you’re the new kid

new kid: I exist only for pain 

~

bread: so hyunjin told me to tell changmin to stop using various horror movie masks to terrify him at work

starbucks tissues: so out of work is fair game?

bread: idk he didn’t specify

bread: probably

starbucks tissues: :D

the better hyun: oh what the fuck this shit isn’t normal

the better hyun: it’s impossible for someone to be so cute but so terrifying

starbucks tissues: I'll take that as a compliment :D

the better hyun: it isn’t but whatever makes you happy ig

the better jae: changmin

the better jae: I only ask that you leave the nun mask and chucky doll at home when we have our christmas party

starbucks tissues: well that’s no fun :(

bread: changmin I'm sorry but your idea of fun is very different from ours

bread: Jacob back me up

angel: I'm sorry changmin but he’s right :(

starbucks tissues: :((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

the better hyun: by the way for the party

the better hyun: who’s doing what???????

the better jae: I'm bringing the xbox!!

foodie: I'm bringing cookies !

papi: I'm cooking with Kevin and juyeon

professional rollerblader: yes it’s going to be fun

professional rollerblader: Kevin says he’s going to make a cheesecake

the better jae: can I save a piece for jisung??

moon scribblez: if we don’t eat all of it

new kid: why

new kid: why did I just hear screaming from the tutoring center

moon scribblez: oH MY GOD SANGYEON

professional rollerblader: TAHT WAS GLORIOUS

sundae: what happened

foodie: why do you only show up for chaos

sundae: I only exist for chaos nothing else is worth my time

the better jae: fair enough

angel: what happened? I thought I saw someone fall ??

angel: but I'm across the walkway so idk :(

angel: is everyone all right?

papi: I think I have a concussion

moon scribblez: oh please you just fell off a tiny stepladder

professional rollerblader: can’t believe sangyeon just fell off a stepladder trying to put up a fucking Christmas stocking 

papi: I hate christmas

papi: I hate everything

moon scribblez: the kids are laughing

moon scribblez: I think I'm going to bust a lung

papi: my dignity has been stripped and I no longer want to live

the better hyun: wait juyeon why are you even there 

the better hyun: you don’t even tutor

foodie: ‘does she even go here’

the better jae: ‘does she even go here’

foodie: ERIC

the better jae: HAK

sundae: oh wow amazing their brain cells conjoined into one single coherent thought and of course it had to be a mean girls reference

starbucks: how did this start out with younghoon telling me to stop scaring hyunjin at work

bread: honestly I don’t know

~

moon scribblez: winter break is upon us

moon scribblez: and I can now bask in the fact that I don’t have to teach spoiled rich assholes basic math for two whole weeks !

papi: speak for yourself

moon scribblez: your fault for being center director

angel: I hate to agree with Kevin and be mean but you really did bring that upon yourself sangyeon

papi: want death

professional rollerblader: no don’t die! we need your food for the party tomorrow

papi: can’t believe all you care about is my food not even me

sundae: did you expect anything different

papi: on a regular basis no

papi: but it’s the holiday season

new kid: holidays are a social construct made to force us into the world of capitalism and giving our money to fat fucking corporations like amazon

starbucks tissues: if I could give Jeff Bezos a heart attack with my nun mask I would

new kid: that’s the only use of that mask that I approve of

starbucks tissues: turn around

the better jae: was that

the better jae: was that new

bread: I don't think I've ever heard chanhee scream that loud

foodie: I’m at the food court and I heard that what the fuck

foodie: the build a bear is like all the way down the mall what the fuck

starbucks tissues: :)

bread: I think that scream rivaled changmin’s dolphin levels

sundae: brb still dying of laughter

sundae: I'm so happy I caught that on video

new kid: Kim sunwoo

new kid: don’t you fucking dare

sunwoo: [ 1 video attached ]

new kid: someone’s dying tonight

professional rollerblader: I can’t believe I missed this I'm so mad

foodie: I think the fake Santa Claus looking over in abject horror just adds to it

starbucks tissues: ^^^

new kid: someone’s dying tonight

angel: there there

angel: no one’s dying tonight

new kid: someone IS

new kid: AND NOT EVEN JACOB CAN STOP ME

the better jae: bet changmin’s mask can

new kid: I'm ripping that fucking mask to shreds

starbucks tissues: :(

bread: now he’s hugging the fucking mask like it’s his baby 

bread: [ 1 image attached ]

the better hyun: as I have said before

the better hyun: it is not normal for someone to look that cute while holding a fucking horror movie mask

papi: I've come to accept that none of you are normal

papi: I think it’s best for your sanity to accept that too

moon scribblez: I'm so late but I'm also rolling on the floor with laughter

papi: can confirm he’s actually on the floor

papi: Kevin you give our center a bad name

moon scribblez: I deadass do not care

moon scribblez: you gave me ashley today so I'm giving you chaos

moon scribblez: suck it <3

angel: she can’t be that bad?????????

moon scribblez: Jacob I know you’re an angel

moon scribblez: but you don’t understand

angel: I guess I don’t :/

~

foodie: I'm going into a food coma!

foodie: don’t attempt to contact me for the next twenty four hours peace <3

sundae: we wouldn’t have in the first place

foodie: :(

angel: sunwoo don’t be mean :(

sundae: fine

sundae: sorry hak

foodie: :)

new kid: the power of one Jacob bae

starbucks tissues: he prevents wars with just his smile

bread: all hail the angel

the better jae: *bows*

angel: guys pls

moon scribblez: no they’re right

moon scribblez: he took me home last night when I was drunk off my ass

moon scribblez: a true angel

angel: guys pls I'm blushing :(

papi: can confirm ! I'm sitting next to him

papi: also he made me hangover soup so can confirm the angel bit too

professional rollerblader: honestly if Jacob wasn’t here we wouldn’t have survived last night

professional rollerblader: he de-escalated Mario kart

professional rollerblader: stayed sober

professional rollerblader: took people home

foodie: all hail Jacob bae

the better jae: I thought you were in a food coma?????

foodie: came back to pay my respects to our lord and savior Jacob bae

the better jae: ok valid

angel: g u y s

the better hyun: has this conversation just become an all hail Jacob bae conversation

moon scribblez: do you want to fucking argue about it

the better hyun: no on the contrary

the better hyun: I'm joining

the better hyun: alL HAIL JACOB BAE

papi: amen

moon scribblez: aMen

professional rollerblader: a fucking men

angel: I'm going to start crying guys pls

new kid: NO DON’T CRY

starbucks tissues: Jacob don’t cry :(((((((((

angel: you guys are so sweet I can’t not cry

papi: I'm hugging him now no more crying

the better jae: two bros, chillin in a hot tub

the better jae: no feet apart bc they’re secure in their masculinity and love each other very much <3

moon scribblez: FIVE FEET APART BC THEY’RE NOT GAY

moon scribblez: fuck

the better jae: YOU RUINED IT

the better jae: yOU BITCH

professional rollerblader: didn’t Jacob call us sweet like one minute ago?

new kid: well he’s an angel he sees the best in us

sundae: there’s no best in you bitch

new kid: oh fuck you

bread: great way to end the holiday season ig

[firemblem-fics]

Smitten Kitten [3]

one | two | three | four | finale

-> Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader | Hybrid!Au (mostly platonic idk)

-> Words: 1.6k

-> Warnings: Cursing, A Literal Karen, Mentions of Abuse (not too in depth, but still there), Manipulation, a Slightly Suggestive Conversation

-> Genre: Fluff, Crack, Some Angst

-> Summary: You never wanted to be involved with hybrids. They were risky and had too many rules for you. But what will you do when a little black and white cat that you take in turns out to be the very thing you steered clear of?

-> A/N: so I made two FE3H oc’s and also have gotten back into drawing so I was wondering ... how would y’all feel if I wrote and also posted some of my drawings and stuff here? it would give y’all more content and I’d probably be inclined to post more often lol anyways enjoy

“This is fucking stupid-”

“Stupid? Felix, you lied to me.”

You were livid. First this fuck-ass cat shows up in your life, worms his way into your heart even though you swore you wouldn’t get a hybrid, and then brings all kinds of trouble with him. If you weren’t already so attached to him, you’d just let the people- Doug and Karen- take him. But you couldn’t. You cared too much.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a huge deal! You told me that they didn’t want you, not that you ran away. Do you know how this can affect me keeping you? They can take me to court or something and get you back.”

“But you signed the papers, I’m yours.”

Your heart fluttered, but you ignored it. “You’re mine, but you also belong to these people. I can’t just take you from them, but I can’t let you go back to them if they were that bad to you- were they even bad? Or did you just not like them? Did you lie to me about that too?”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t like them because they were bad. Look at ‘em. They don’t love anything except for the gold around their necks, especially not me. I was literally put in cat shows to earn money. If I ever got below first place, they’d…”

He shuddered and sat down on the edge of your bed. You leaned against the door, arms crossed. From the other room you heard talking. Ashe probably saw your front door open and came to investigate.

Felix couldn’t look you in the eyes. You looked so hurt. Not even angry- just hurt. “Please don’t make me go back.”

You sighed and dropped your arms. “I don’t want you to go back, Fe. But I- I don’t know what else to do. They’ve obviously got more money and if they take me to court they’ll win for being ‘better equipped’ to care for you.”

“But they’re not.” His voice was growing desperate. “You are. What if- what if we can prove the center that you’re better than them? Courts don’t deal with Hybrid ownership, the facilities do. Nancy does.”

At that moment, the door creaked open. Two red ears appeared first, then a mop of red hair.

Sylvain grinned and walked in, closing the door and throwing a wink Felix’s way. The cat bristled.

“Give me your phone.”

“I’m not cheating, I swear.”

“We’re not- fuck you, give me your phone, Sylvain.”

The dog practically whimpered and handed over the phone. Felix had a Cheshire grin as he unlocked it. Typical Sylvain to not have a password despite all the dumb shit on the phone. You tapped your foot impatiently, anxious for Ashe who kept the two other people occupied.

“So, what are you planning?”

“I’ll go back with them, but I’ll keep this phone. I’ll- I’ll take those audio messages and send videos and shit when I can. I’ll just have to be careful.” This was the most Felix had ever talked to anyone. His voice was shaky, despite trying to desperately hide it.

“Absolutely not. Felix, you're not going with them! Who knows what they’ll do-“

“I think me dealing with their shit for a few weeks will be worth it if I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your eyes widened and so did Felix’s. He flushed a bright red after realizing what he said. Sylvain cracked up.

“I- I mean, as an owner. You don’t do those things, that’s all. I just-“

“Nah, nah, it’s alright, you little smitten kitten~” Sylvain still smiled. “We catch your drift.”

Felix huffed. “There’s no drift to catch! Fucking drop it! Drop the drift!”

He stood up and yanked the door open, scaring the shit out of Ashe. You followed him quickly, grabbing onto his sleeve as Sylvain went back to Ashe’s side.

“You don’t have to do this, we can find another way.” You whispered. Felix could clearly see your absolute distress at letting him leave.

He held your gaze and let out a sigh. “I’ll be okay. You and Ashe just keep a lookout for my messages.”

With that, Felix tugged his arm out of your grasp and walked to Doug and Karen. He didn’t say anything, just looked down at the ground, his head lowered.

Submission.

That wasn’t the Felix you had come to know. Felix was loud and didn’t take shit from anyone. To see him suddenly reduced to something resembling a kicked puppy- the irony- was borderline heartbreaking.

You couldn’t help but tear up as the door closed. Sylvain whimpered. Ashe, who was silent and confused the whole time, whipped around to you.

“What the fuck is going on?” He seethed. “You didn’t even put up a fight-“

“Take a chill pill, Ashie.” Sylvain went behind Ashe and began to massage his shoulders. Ashe slapped his hands away. “We’ve got a plan.”

“A plan? Y/N, listen, you’re not Claude. You’re not Yuri. Your little plans never work the way they should.”

“Just give this one a chance!” You practically pleaded. “Felix has Sylvain’s phone. He’s gonna send updates and videos on what they’re doing. Hopefully they’ll be enough to convince the facility that Felix is better off with me.”

“Or not! If you don’t remember correctly, the lady fucking hated Felix. She’d probably do whatever she can to make sure he suffers.”

“Maybe the fact that we’re fighting to get him back will prove that we care more than the others-“

“-who literally came to your door and wanted him back. I’ve got no doubt they’ll fight too.” Ashe sighed. “This will only work if they really do something.”

At that moment, your phone pinged. The notification was from Sylvain’s phone. A video from Felix.

You opened the message and pressed okay, shushing Ashe and turning up the volume. Felix was in the backseat of the car while Doug and Karen sat up front. The angle was shitty and the phone was extremely shaky. Felix was trying to hide the phone from them.

“Felix Hugo, what the fuck were you thinking? Leaving like that? After all we’ve done for you?” Karen’s voice was shrill and loud, not even hiding her anger.

“After all you’ve done for me? You’ve done nothing-“

“Shut up! You’re ungrateful. We’ve fed you and housed you. You’re lucky someone even does that for a dumb cat like you. You’re practically feral- unlovable!”

The camera shook a little harder at that word.

Unlovable.

Your heart clenched, but there were still a few more seconds to the video.

“I can’t believe you thought a girl like that would even care about you. See how easily she let you go? She didn’t really want you. See, Felix Hugo? See how worked up you’ve gotten me?”

Doug’s voice cut in, silencing Karen’s annoying distress. “Just wait until we get home. We’ll deal with him there.”

You were probably shaking even more than Felix at this point. ‘Wait until we get home’... you didn’t even want to think of the implications of that.

The video was pure manipulation. But… to some, it may not be enough to make them question Felix’s safety.

Unfortunately.

You texted back, “Just a little more. In about two days, we’ll contact the facility and try to get them to hear us. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re trying your best. Just… try faster.”

“Miss you already.”

Seen.

Hanging your head, you looked up at the two boys. You shrugged and turned off your phone. A few more days, you said. Could you even handle that? You were already so used to his presence. To have an empty household again was something you didn’t want.

Even if it was full of Felix yelling… it was kind of endearing. He was always angry when Ashe and Sylvain were around. It makes sense why other people would be put off by his personality. But he was just…

Defensive.

Felix had walls up that were practically impenetrable. Could that excuse the rude, borderline abusive words he said to others? No. He could only apologize and do better from that. But he wouldn’t get better if he was with Doug and Karen.

You put your head in your hands and began tearing up. “I just want him safe. With me.”

Ashe and Sylvain exchanged glances.

“Yeah, you want him with you. To be with you. To… share your bed, in a literal sense, right?” Sylvain’s eyes held a sly glint in them. You raised an eyebrow.

“What are you on about now?”

“You and Felix. You want him to be with you. You want to be with him…”

“What?”

“Do you have feelings for him? You wanna fuck that cat?”

“Wh- I don’t want to fuck a cat! He’s… he’s more human than cat. Hybrids are just people that can turn into animals…”

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Hybrids are people that can turn into animals, have ears and a tail, go into heats, all that shit. You don’t want to deal with an angry feline in a heat-“

“Is that why you’re neutered?”

“I’M NOT NEUTERED. FUCK YOU.”

You just sighed and checked your phone again. No check from Felix, even though it hasn't even been five minutes since the last message. You were just scared.

Ashe got up and began to cook dinner for you, deciding that you weren’t fit to do it tonight. You protested, but ultimately complied as Sylvain laid his head in your lap in hopes of an ear scratch.

That night, you tossed and turned. It was weird without a little cat body at the foot of your bed. You couldn’t help but think of worst case scenarios, spanning from just not being able to get Felix back to rather… unsavory ideas of what could be happening to him now. You finally settled down and forced your eyes shut, hoping that your dreams would be better than your thoughts.

They weren’t.

[anthropwashere]

Phic Phight: these lofty thoughts are killing me

Prompt from @ibelieveinahappilyeverafter: Undergrowth Sam AU. Sam’s time as mother of Undergrowth’s garden left it’s scars - and scars can go deep. Sam’s always known she shared a close connection with plants, but now she hears them. She knows what they think and what they feel and can control them. On one hand it’s terrifying, but on the other… The ghosts should be a lot more terrified of her now.

@currentlylurking @phicphight

Word count: 4,604

=

Sam tries not to think about then.

Maybe it's better to say she tries not to think about the gaping hole in her memory where then ought to be.

She's hardly the only one in that particular boat. The whole of Amity Park suffers from a ghost-induced amnesia spanning over a week. It's all anyone talks about for ages; where they were when the plants attacked, where they were when they finally woke up again. Trying to make sense of senselessness. And even now, months after the fact, there are still traces of that city-wide attack not yet repaired. Cracked concrete, homes and business too ravaged to salvage, miles of withered vines with thorns like carving knives, enormous mummified plants with mammalian fangs in human mouths, swathes of green-limned ice that refuses to melt even now. 

(Every time one of the three of them finds another frozen chunk of Amity Park Danny moves ASAP to take care of it, since not even anything his parents have cooked up can do much damage to it. The guilt twisting Danny up is horrible to watch unfold across his weary face; made worse still because for all that he and Tucker insist otherwise, it really was her fault.)

There's no hiding it: Amity Park was shaken to its foundations by Undergrowth. Even more so, perhaps, than by Pariah Dark. The Ghost King had transported the entire city directly into the Ghost Zone and did his utmost to run it to ruin with his army of skeleton ghosts. It had been a terrifying and impossible experience, and everyone can agree they only got out of that one thanks to Phantom. But the thing is, everyone in Amity Park can remember Pariah Dark's attack.

But Undergrowth? Flashes and flickers of almosts and maybes at best for everyone involved, and that is somehow so much more terrifying. What did they do? What were they made to do? How many missing and confirmed dead weren't taken by the towering ghost and all its myriad minions, but by one of them? Are they ever going to remember what happened? Is it better if they don't? 

And on, and on, and Sam's right alongside everyone else except in every way she isn't. Yes, she doesn't remember anything. But she knows she's at fault, because Danny told her just so.

Not in so many words, of course. He's too good for that. Too good a person, too good a ghost, too good a hero. He would never lay the blame for anything terrible that happened at anyone's feet but his own. He wasn't good enough, strong enough, fast enough—and on, and on. Never mind that he went and scrounged up and mastered an entirely new subset of powers just to counter Undergrowth—

(and her)

—and never mind the countless lives he did save. People were hurt, and worse, because he thinks he wasn't the hero Amity Park thinks he is. That's just the way he is.

Undergrowth was wrong. Sam knew that. She knew that. He was too extreme, too insane, too insistent on terraforming the entire planet to suit his self-aggrandizing whim to consider the consequences for whatever else lives here. Not just self-centered jerks with their gas-guzzling cars and plastic, one time use lives. There are so many people out there who understand what Sam's trying to do here in Amity, who do so much more to fight the ceaseless grinding up of Earth's finite resources than what one fourteen year old can do on her own. There are good people in the world fighting the evil and corrupt and greedy. There’s good in this world. You can't just—wipe the slate clean and start fresh.

You can't.

=

Sam remembers—the first attack. 

Sam remembers—waking up after it was all over. 

She remembers feeling sick and sluggish. Boneless. Dizzy and swooping like she'd downed too much cold medicine. Limbs slow to react, her thoughts even slower. She remembers her surroundings like a badly dubbed old kung fu movie; everyone moving at exaggerated angles, their voices not matching their mouths. She remembers Danny blinking too quickly, like he was trying not to cry he was so glad to see she was okay.

She remembers thinking with a cold and sullen fury, How dare he? 

What the fuck? had followed right on the heels of that, thankfully, because she’d had no idea why she'd ever in a million years be so angry with her best friend.

She remembers—knowing time had passed. Too much time. A dangerous and scary amount of time. And she remembers looking around and seeing the city halfway destroyed. And she remembers—

—guilt.

Guilt that made no sense until Danny, hours and hours later, faltered through an obviously edited summary of the week Amity Park forgot. She and Tucker had both blinked at him, and at each other, horrified and dismayed to find that Danny had had to do so much all on his own, that they'd been so vulnerable, so useless—

—but there'd been no guilt in Tucker's expression. No sign of the guilt that tangled up her guts in a cat's cradle until she was certain she'd throw up—

—and then she did have to throw up, staggering off to the bathroom in her basement, barely able to slam the door and fall to her knees before the toilet in time. She hates throwing up, hates the sweating and the shaking, hates the smell and the sound, hates how no matter what something always gets stuck in her nose. She'd screwed her face up tight so she didn't have to watch, rode out the worst of it, then sat there breathing wetly and hating life for a minute.

One of the boys had knocked gently on the bathroom door. "You okay?"

"Guh," she replied, throat hurting terribly at the effort. 

Sam remembers—opening her eyes, and the fear, and the confusion, and the certainty that she couldn't tell anyone, ever.

The toilet bowl had been full of flowers. 

=

That hasn't happened since, and—as far as she can tell—there haven't been any health issues that could have sprung up from having an indeterminate amount of flora taking root in her digestive system. 

She hasn't gone out much since then. School, patrol, the ghost attacks that invariably spring up outside of when she's penciled in time for a little extra chaos. She's made up excuses whenever Danny and Tucker invite her to hang out. She hasn't gone shopping or to a movie or any other perfectly normal after-school activity.

She's not hiding.

She's not.

It's just... easier, to not be around people any more than the barest necessity. At least until she feels... settled again. Normal again. For her, and for whatever 'normal' is worth in a town regularly terrorized by bigger and toothier and crueler ghosts with every passing month. It's fine. Danny's got Tucker and Jazz for the attacks that she's slow to arrive for, and Danny is—

Danny can handle himself. He's strong. He's amazing. He took Undergrowth—

(and her)

—down all on his own, no power suit or ghostly backup needed. It's fine.

Her parents seem to have miraculously caught on for once that she really does need some space; after the initial handsy-hugsy panicked relief the first couple days after Undergrowth, they gave her space (and anything else she asked for too, for that matter), only prodding her gently to come inside to eat now and then. Which she's grateful for, really, because she's pretty sure she wouldn't remember to eat at all without some prodding.

Something about eating rubs her wrong, now. The resistance of a carrot clenched between her teeth, the juicy flesh of an orange slice bursting under pressure, rice grains squirming like maggots on her tongue. She made a salad two days ago and couldn't stop thinking of the glamorized crime scenes from all those police procedural shows on TV; oversaturated, garish, someone's life torn open in a tasteless arrangement of stiff limbs. 

A cabbage is not a person. Cucumbers are not people. Almonds are a good source of protein.

Damn it.

Most of the time she hides—relaxes—in her greenhouse. Tucker had cracked a joke about that, though it had gone in one ear and out the other. Something something, bad taste. Blah blah, she's gone native. Didn't I tell you plants are the enemy?

Danny had laughed. Sam had to fight to keep her hands loose at her sides, to let it roll off like it didn't hurt while she tried to remind herself that it shouldn't hurt. That had earned her another tally in the ‘needing time away from people’ column. Not like, total isolation. School. Patrol. Dinner with her parents and grandma. She still does things with people. But every minute she's not in her greenhouse she feels this—this hand around her heart. This tightness that squeezes just enough that she's never not aware of it, and it's become so, so much easier for her to startle, to flinch from loud noises, to find herself overstimulated by her friends laughing as she is people screaming in the wake of ghosts. The hand squeezes until she can hardly breathe, and she thinks of the flowers she'd thrown up and thinks of roots, and thorns, and the fragility of her lungs, and it gets so hard to breathe—

Nobody's caught her breaking down yet. She hopes she can keep it that way. She hopes she can get over this—this anxiety, or fear, or whatever this is. 

But for all that she spends so much time in her greenhouse, the only place she doesn't feel that hand around her heart, she can't really say she's all that relaxed there either.

=

Another day put between then and now. Life around Amity Park is just about back to normal. If she's feeling generous with her definition of normal, anyway. She's made it through school without any issues and now she's free to hide—relax!—for a few hours in her greenhouse before one of her parents will come tapping at the door.

"Hey guys," she says, lackluster.

The whole greenhouse shivers at the sound of her voice.

Yep. That's totally normal. Nothing weird about that at all!

Ugh.

She goes through her after-school checklist by rote memory, biting her tongue to keep herself from the usual silly commentary she used to say along with it. She's learned better.  Undergrowth did—something to her. Something she's lied through her teeth about to Danny and Tucker, assuring them that she's fine, she's normal, there aren't any lingering effects from—whatever it was. Is. She's different now. Not outwardly, not in any of the ways Danny risks being discovered as inhuman every single day. She's not like Danny. She's still human.

She is.

But she can still do inhuman things. Or—not do. Nothing as active as ghost rays or flight or anything fun. But she can—influence. She still has an inhuman influence, and it's all she can do to keep her garden still.

Even with her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw aches and a headache blooms—nngh—at her temples, the slightest graze of her fingers across a leaf makes whatever plant she's touched quiver. When she picks up her pruning shears to clean up the tomato plants she can see them flush bigger and brighter before her very eyes. There's the tiniest, softest—niggling in the back of her mind, an itch on her teeth and goosebumps down her skin.

(mother)

She drops the shears. Before she can move to grab them a tendril of healthy green leaves curls off of the trellis to pluck them up out of the dirt and deposit them neatly in her numb hands again.

"...Thanks," she grits out.

All of the tomatoes swell to the size of tennis balls, their leaves straining to catch up. Two of the nearest ones split their blood red skins open to beam beatifically at her. There are teeth in their dripping grins, or something shaped enough like teeth to curdle her stomach.

"Stop."

The grins shrink, though the seams remain. She resolves to never eat those two. The thought of throwing them out however, is almost as revolting. She leaves without finishing the after-school checklist, opting to hide in the basement bowling alley with her grandma until dinner. It's not half as relaxing as it used to be.

=

She can't avoid her greenhouse. Not even for a day. Her garden needs daily attention. It needed it—before. 

It did.

Now the thought of ignoring it, even for an afternoon, makes her physically ill. So she doesn't know if it's guilt for not finishing her after-school checklist earlier or something—else, something left in her from then—

—she tries, she tries, she tries to remember anything from then, but there's only—

—hunger, and anger, and pride for her—

—her—

—her children. 

Nothing concrete. Nothing real. Nothing she can make use of. All she knows is that she's different, and it's most obvious here in her chil—

—garden. Her garden.

They won't hurt her. No matter what she says or does, this she knows for certain. Her garden will never hurt her.

Somehow, that isn't as comforting as it should be. All she can think of are teeth sinking into meat, and the sound of a scream, and splattering—

And she has no idea if Undergrowth made her order the—the—the children to kill someone, or if he goaded her into doing it personally. And she doesn't know which is worse. 

It's night now. Late. After patrol. Her cell phone is an intrusive blue glow in her greenhouse, the only light she dare use in case one of her parents is still awake. For all that they've been weirdly accommodating since then, she doesn't want to push her luck. It's a school night, after all. It's hardly any light at all to go by, really. She's tempted to pull up the flashlight app at least, but—

(hello hello)

(mother's back)

(we missed you mother)

—it's maybe safer to do this in the dark. For all that her throat closes up when she hears a loud rustling sweep through her greenhouse. For all that her feet feel like dead weights as she drags them across the dirt floor until she's stood in the center. In the heart of her domain.

She breathes. 

"I hear you," she whispers.

The rustling grows louder, and louder still. Tables creak under growing and shifting weights. Shadows move closer into the faint light of her cell phone. A hundred or more whispers settle in some weird space between her sinus cavity and her brain, heard like something from the cusp of a dream. Mother, they all say. We love you, we love you, we're here for you.

Her legs give out, but something cool and dry catches her before she can fall. She clings to it, swallowing a shriek. They won't hurt her.

They won't.

Now she just has to make sure they won't hurt anyone else either.

"That's right. I'm your—ha." She buries her face in her hands, feeling somewhere between playing pretend and outright deranged. "Ha ha! Can—this is—can you call me something else? Please? I'm way too young to be anybody's mom, let alone my own personal—shit, I dunno. All of you. Just—call me Sam."

That earns her a whole bass-boosted chorus of Sam! Sam! Sam! until she lets go of the vine-branch-thing to clap her hands over her ears. "Easy! Jeez! Take it down a notch, okay? I really can't—do this—with all of you shouting at me."

Sam! Sam! Sam! gets a lot quieter. Not manageable, not really, since a bunch of plants are chanting her name like she's a rock star, but at least it feels less like she's laid out in a dentist's chair getting worked on without local anesthetic. 

"Okay. Okay. I—" she giggles. This is so stupid. This is so dangerous. "Are you—Undergrowth?"

Shadows chirp no, no, no at her like hulking baby birds. 

"Are you still his, though? If he came back, would you listen to him instead of me?"

No, no, no, they chirp. Something coils up one of her legs, catching on her bootlaces and tickling the back of her knee. 

"No, you're not his?"

Not his, something whispers right in her fucking ear. She recoils, trips over whatever's feeling up her thigh, and gets caught again by the vine-branch-thing. She's pretty sure it's a branch of her orange tree. It smells citrus-y, at least. Splayed ungainly, she tries to get her heart under control. She feels like she's in the middle of a horror movie. It's way too easy to imagine some know-it-all dipshit yelling at her through a mouthful of popcorn. Get out, you dumb bitch! 

Yeah, yeah. She knows. She knows. Messing around with things she doesn't understand is what got Danny zapped in the first place. It's a long chain of events between the accident and tonight, but every step of it's her fault.

"Okay," she says shakily. "Okay. And if he came back...?"

We're yours, her garden croons, humming all at once and all through her in a way that makes it feel like her muscles are coming loose from her bones. We belong to you, our Sam.

She shivers. "L-lucky me."

=

So this is a thing she's got going on now, apparently, and no obvious way to make it stop. At least, not any way that wouldn't require her to tear her greenhouse apart down to the last garlic bulb, which would be extraordinarily expensive, extraordinarily alarming to anyone who knows her, and extraordinarily too much like a whole lot of murder. Plants aren't people, but these plants sure do like to tell her how much they love her.

So. It's a thing. Talking to plants. Plants that are definitely souped up on whatever ambient juice is leftover from Undergrowth terraforming the whole city. Plants that keep growing mouths full of fangs and strangling vines with thorns longer than her thumb despite her practically begging them to just be carrots, please. It's feeling a little too Little Shop of Horrors for comfort. She keeps emphasizing the strict no meat diet she's got them on, glad that her family's never had any interest in coming in here. You know. Just in case. Thing is though, her concern—so far, anyway—seems pretty unwarranted. Her garden seems happy enough on the perfectly healthy diet of perfectly normal plants. Sunshine, air, water, a good layer of compost. 

They just keep thanking her so feverishly for so little. It's—unsettling. A little bit awful. Maybe more than a little bit. Maybe this psychic connection thing goes two ways, and her garden is influencing her into—what? Feeling guilty? For what? They all seem so happy for the slightest bit of her attention. It doesn't seem like it'll occur to them all that they could ever ask her for more.

Maybe it's not healthy that she's thinking of her plants as thinking creatures instead of some kind of echo chamber for whatever Undergrowth did to her. The longer she lets this go on, the more the voices of her garden feel-sound like her own thoughts. And it's been going on for a while. Long enough that Danny and Tucker have noticed the uptick in her behavior, both commenting in their own ways that they're happy she's acting more like her old self again.

Yeah. Right. Nothing supernaturally weird going on with her at all, no sir-ee!

Still, for all that she can't stop her garden from going the plantae equivalent of full werewolf, she has managed to keep them organized. Well. Bit of seesaw on that. The overcrowding got sorted out by some aggressive behavior. Some very aggressive behavior. She's definitely had one nightmare already, reliving the gruesomely wet memory of having to bodily haul the thing that used to be her prized Venus flytrap off of the thing that used to be her kiwi vine. 

Point is, she has half the number of plants in her garden than she did two weeks ago, which—fine. It's not like she was planning on eating any of them anymore. She's not really—eating much, lately. She's been able to pass it off as no big deal around Danny and Tucker (never in a million years did she ever think she'd be grateful for the Box Ghost interrupting lunch so often, but here she is!), and she keeps reassuring her family that she's gotten into the habit of taking more of her meals in her greenhouse. The truth is she's been eating a lot of cereal and tripling her vitamin intake. Cereal hasn't betrayed her yet, but in a town like Amity Park that's no guarantee.

She knows it's a stopgap measure. Someone's going to find her out, or her garden's going to get ghostly enough for Danny to sense it, or someone will be stupid enough to walk in here and she might actually end up with some real life Audrey II bullshit.

"If any of you start singing, I won't be held accountable for my actions," she threatens one evening, brandishing a trowel. The garden makes a bunch of querying noises at her, tangling around her ankles like an alien's limited grasp of the concept of a pet cat. She's given up wearing leggings entirely, having thrown the last ruined pair away after her parents had gone to bed. She'd bought three pairs of jeans—black, of course—last Saturday when she braved the mall with Danny and Tucker. At least artfully torn jeans are fashionable enough that nobody but her mom is going to think anything odd about it.

"Never mind," she sighs, and gives in to the urge to scratch one of her plants along its spiny sepals. It purrs happily, and soon a whole group of waist-high plants that look like something right out of Poison Ivy's own evil lair are crooning at her for scritches. 

=

She ends up sneaking off on her own to PetSmart an hour before it closes, bailing on patrol for the sixth time since Undergrowth. There's definitely some line between crazy plant lady and weird dog mom she's pole vaulting over, but—whatever.

She buys a lot of dog toys. Her garden especially loves the tug-of-war ropes, but the bright green squeaky bone turned out to be an A+ impulse buy too.

=

It takes a while, and a lot of adjusting, and she still hasn't figured out an alternative long-term diet, but overall things settle. She finds a new balance. She basically sleeps well enough, and her grades are fine, and the ghost attacks don't get too left-field. Danny shoulders most of that anyway these days, more comfortable with his powers and the popularity boost saving the city gave Phantom with everybody. Used to be her and Tucker put in the same hours and effort as Danny—if you don't count the superpowers—but lately? They're better for cover stories and clean-up, which is fine with Sam while she sorts all this post-Undergrowth ghost-plant stuff out. Tucker's just happy he finishes out the semester with the same PDA he started it with.

Of course, all good things are temporary. She really ought to have this figured out by now.

It's a ghost attack that unravels it all, naturally. This one's a new face; some kind of unsettling, skitter-y combination hydra-centipede about the length of a limousine. Its six necks accordion though, and it spits acid. Both are nasty surprises Danny wasn't expecting, and he ends up getting tossed through the front pane of a mom-and-pop hardware store. He'll be fine, though she and Tucker both have to tamp down on their standard panicked 'oh shit our best friend would have absolutely just died if he were normal' reaction to go distract the ghost from going after a minivan. 

They circle around it, shouting nonsensical insults that it probably doesn't understand to get its attention, helped by a few firm blasts of some small ecto-guns they'd pilfered a while back. Only one shot actually gets a hit on something that isn't its purple exoskeleton; Tucker whoops loudly when it screeches in pain. Sam uses the precious seconds to circle around to the other side of the minivan to yank open the sliding door and start manhandling a group of elementary-aged kids in blue soccer uniforms out and into whatever shop is closest. The mom squawks affront until Sam hisses at her to hurry her ass up if she doesn't want to go the same way as the hatchback—thankfully empty—that had ended up wrapped around a telephone pole. That gets soccer mom moving, and they're both just clear of the van before she hears Tucker scream her name. 

She moves on an instinct honed by two years of fighting for her life; she shoves soccer mom hard and whirls around in time to see the roof of the minivan as it comes flipping right at her. "No—!" is all she has time for, throwing up her hands as bolts of neon green strike up in her periphery. The minivan crumples with a horrible shriek of metal and hangs, creakingly, not a foot above her head. She blinks in the sudden shadow, heart hammering in her throat. She expects to hear Danny's voice, either a dry quip or an earnest rush of concern, depending on how hard the hydrapede rattled him.

A nonplussed, "What the fuck," from Tucker is what she gets instead. 

She looks around. There's the familiar ghost-green glow, but it's not Danny's burning hands or headlight-bright eyes. Two thorny vines, thick as tree trunks, have punched through the concrete to catch the minivan before it could crush her.

(mother) she hears them yap at her happily.

Well, shit.

=

The fight wraps up without any other cars or business fronts getting destroyed. Danny makes good use of those ice powers, and in a matter of minutes Tucker's got the thing slurped up in one of the three Thermoses they've gotten in the habit of having on hand, just in case.

Then Danny and Tucker make matched crazy eyes at her and the modern art she accidentally made out of soccer mom's claim to fame.

"Not here," she tells them firmly. If soccer mom figures out there's a chance she could pin her totaled minivan on her—and her incredibly wealthy parents—they'll get stuck here all day. Tucker gets it before Danny does and makes a show of shoulder-checking him pointedly as he jogs off. Danny shuts his mouth and winks out of sight, leaving Sam to jog after Tucker. Which she will, just after she tries something first.

She glares at the two vines—standard curb weeds once upon ten minutes, more than likely—and thinks at them very hard. Thank you, much appreciated, stop calling me mother, go away.

She gets some kind of bizarre-o feedback that feels like chewing on gum with the wrapper still on, and also like skinned knees, but in her brain? Ugh. With a reluctance that shouldn't be so obvious from a couple of plants, the two vines sort of... shrink? Melt? Reverse-grow back into two perfectly normal bits of scruffy green in a totally wrecked stretch of sidewalk.

Good enough! Better than she expected, really! 

Soccer mom starts babbling something very loud about her car, which is Sam's cue to run for the hills. She does so, dreading the conversation she's about to have with her best friends, but also... kind of excited for the next ghost attack?

If she has to deal with having creepy psychic monster plant-making powers, she may as well get some mileage out of them. Right?

[naly1109]

Your Lovely Wicked Soul

Witch au, Reader X Bang Chan feat. Stray Kids (Narrator's POV)

Summary: Y/N is well known and beloved amongst the people of her home village. Being a powerful Witch, she helps the people using her Gifts to increase crops, heal the sick, and protect the townsfolk and other favors. When her Grandfather sends her away to save her from the misfortune of becoming the awful King’s bride, he sends her across worlds into the hands of a man bearing an uncanny resemblance to the tyrant King.

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

~Chapter 4~

As Y/N and Chan stand in place watching the boys leave, an awkward silence fills the air surrounding them. Y/N is feeling apologetic for having hurt Chan and is not sure how to express it, and Chan is still focused on trying to remember how to breathe through the after-pain of his battle wound. They begin to pick up the newspapers that were scattered on the floor, minutes passing before either speak.

“I really am sorry about hurting you again, Chan.” Y/N says, looking Chan in the eyes for the first time today. Chan laughs and shakes his head at her. “What’s so funny? I’m trying to sincerely apologize, and you’re laughing it off?”

Chan chuckles at Y/N exasperated expression, “I forgave you for purposely trying to remove my heart.” he points out. “This was an accident, so it’ll be easily forgiven.” he shrugs. “I do have one request though.” he says in hopes of an agreement.

Y/N quickly nods in agreement, “Anything. If it’s within my capabilities, I will grant it.” she says, her eyes wide in hernest, looking at him as she approaches him.

Chan smiles. He looks down at his feet before looking back up at her, and notices she’s looking at his mouth, and his smile grows. “I’ll forgive you, on the condition that you promise to look me in the face more often.” he finishes his condition with a hopeful look. 

Y/N blushes, her eyes going wide at his request, and she begins to turn her face away. Before he could stop himself, Chan reaches out with one hand and places it on her cheek, he gently faces her towards him once again. Her cheeks heats up at his gesture and she knows he can feel it rising beneath his hand.

“There. Much better.” he says and removes his hands, attempting to play off the caress as a casual gesture. They remain standing in the center of their mess, looking into each other’s eyes, seemingly attempting to engrave each other’s faces in their minds. For more than just a moment, they were the only ones in the room, everything around them as nothing more than just a backdrop.

Y/N starts to feel weightless being under Chan’s intense stare. She inhales sharply to break the deafening silence that surrounds them. “We should finish picking up the newspapers if we want to eat at a decent hour.” she says and turns away from Chan to start stacking what had managed to remain on the table.

“Right.” Chan agrees, feeling lightheaded from holding his breath, almost like being in a trance. Looking at Y/N, he felt as though the whole cosmos was pulling them together, and he takes that as a sign that she is meant to be his.

“What was your life like before you came here? What did you do for a living?” Chan asks, trying to make conversation.

“I did many things. I was a farmer when it was time to get the crops planted, then harvested. A storekeeper when Mr. and Mrs. Stolts went to merchant meetings that would last weeks. A carpenter when we needed to expand our village or do repairs to the buildings after a storm or strong winds. But primarily, I was the doctor. I loved mixing herbs for different remedies and learning what each plant is capable of doing.” Y/N says, smiling while thinking about the villagers and how much they relied on her. “I really thought my life was so mundane. Now I’d give anything for it to go back to what it was before.” A sad smile spreads itself across Y/N’s soft features, and Chan can’t help but want to replace it with a happy one.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad, I was just curious.” Chan says, scratching the side of his neck. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. I actually like talking about it. It makes me feel better.” Y/N says, giving Chan a grin. 

The next 20 minutes go by while Chan and Y/N pick up the mess of papers and books and organize them, and talk about each other. Chan learns about Y/N’s hobbies, she loves horseback riding, reading, gardening, and trying new dishes to cook. Her favorite Spells include being able to speak to animals, making gems from regular rocks, and listening to people’s minds. The last one is a guilty pleasure she does rarely, but finds to be quite entertaining and enlightening. Y/N learns that Chan makes music, both as a hobby and a profession. He also likes to go and try new dishes, as well as travel. He feels extremely lucky to have the profession he has. He also tells her about his family and a bit about where he grew up. Chan is even able to get Y/N to laugh when he tells her about a mishap he had on the beach as a kid. He was right about it being rewarding to make her laugh.

“There. All done.” Chan says, wiping his brow with his forearm and turning to look at Y/N. She nodded at him and gave him a smile. “Let’s go home and eat. The boys have our orders and I don’t trust Changbin, Felix, and Jisung to not eat it.” Chan leads Y/N out of the library in time for them to lock the doors. They decide to head back to the apartment on foot, since it is a nice night, and continue the conversation of getting to know each other. This time talking about pets, school life, and embarrassing childhood phases.

As they approach the apartment, Chan hears the boys laughing with each other before he even opens the door to the apartment and he gets curious to know what they found so funny. He looks at Y/N and puts his finger to his lips telling her to be quiet, “We’re gonna listen in on the boys and see what they are up to.” He slowly opens the door. They hear the boys talking about the library incident and they stop to listen in.

“That was funny how that all went down. I just hope they’re not mad at us for leaving them to clean up by themselves.” Hyunjin says, feeling slightly guilty.

“They’ll be fine. They could use the time to get to know each other.” Minho tells the younger man. “And maybe Chan will stop feeling sad that she won’t look at him.” Chan’s ears heat up at being called out like that by his friends.

“I still have to say that my favorite part was when Y/N kneed Chan. I feel bad for him, but that was beyond comedic!” Jisung laughs and the other boys join. Chan wants to kick Jisung in his head and see if he laughs at that.

“Y/N face when she realized she was leaning into Chan, THAT was priceless.” Felix adds. Y/N feels herself flush at the reminder of how flustered she got when she felt his warm hand on her back.

“I, honestly, was surprised when Minho actually did it.” Jeongin says, mouth full of food. Y/N and Chan exchange looks of confusion, then lean in closer to the door.

“I said I had a plan and I delivered. I didn’t think it would play out so well, though.” Minho muses, “I must say, I outdid myself this round.”

Y/N and Chan have heard enough. As Chan is about to open the door to the living room, Y/N pulls his arm to stop him. “I have an idea.” she informs him. She quickly casts a couple Spells to levitate and darken her appearance, then uses a Spell to make a gust to blow the door to the living room open.

She storms in, followed by Chan, who quickly catches on to her act, and begins to scold the guys, using another Spell to darken her voice, “You think your little joke was funny?” She looks at each of their shocked faces.

“I-it was all Minho-Hyung’s idea! We swear!” Jisung is quick to throw his elder to the wolves, or in this case, the terrifyingly pissed off Witch.

“Thanks, Asshole.” Minho shoots a glare at Jisung.

Y/N fixates her gaze on Minho, who meets her eyes, and about soils his pants, face draining of color. She uses her Levitation Spell to bring the panicked man to her, his toes dragging. She brings him higher so he is face to face with her. Glaring, she asks in a low, intimidating voice, “Did you really think leaving me to clean up all that mess You Caused,” she emphasizes on his involvement, “while you sit here all comfy, was funny?”

“I-I’m so-sorry,” Minho stutters in response. He looks to his elder for assistance, but the look on Chan’s face tells him he won’t even get pity.

“Sorry Mate.” Chan shakes his head, “What you did was pretty low. Y/N has so many paper cuts from hauling all those heavy piles of newspapers.”

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t turn you into a Slither Toad and use you to make a foot fungus removal ointment?” Y/N says, her voice icy and unforgiving. A wicked smile spreads across her face as Minho looks her in the eyes, silently begging for mercy.

Just as Minho goes to verbally beg for forgiveness, Y/N burst out laughing. “The look on your face!” she laughs out loudly. Minho blinks for a moment, then turns red, understanding the situation now. When Y/N looks at him again, she doubles over in a belly laugh and tears begin to stream down her face from lack of oxygen. Chan watches, enthralled by the sound of her happy laughter, and soon begins to laugh with her, as do the rest of the guys. Except Minho, who is still upset about being the butt of the joke for this round.

“I don’t think it was funny.” Minho’s tone laced with annoyance.

“Your face was great, Hyung! I thought you were going to piss yourself!” Jisung says, trying to catch his breath.

Y/N sobers up enough to speak, “It’s not fun being the target of a prank, is it?” She shakes her head at him, “I’m sorry if I scared you. I got the idea from reading about what your world thinks a Witch is, and thought it would be funny.”

“It was funny, Y/N. He’s just salty that he got served with his own dish. That was badass and extremely entertaining to watch. So thank you for that.” Chan says, wiping tears off his cheeks. “Minho, what you did was, totally, not cool, and you deserved what Y/N did. I know you may have had good intentions, but you need to apologize to Y/N. You invaded her space, elbowed her in the eye, and made her clean up a mess that you, admittedly, caused.” Chan turns Minho towards Y/N, gives him a reassuring pat, then shoves him towards her.

Y/N giggles at Minho’s apologetic face, “This is quite an adorable look, Minho. I think it suits you.” she gives him a smile

“I’m sorry about causing a mess and making you clean it.” he says with genuine eyes. “And I would like to point out that, while I may have been the one who put everything into motion, everyone else was on board when I pitched the idea.” he finishes glaring at Jisung.

The boys all groan at Minho’s betrayal. “In our defence, he said it was a good idea.” Seungmin says, trying to lessen the offence.

“Nnoo,” Minho stretches out the word as he shakes his head at Seungmin, “I said it would be a fun idea. I never said ‘good’.”

“Leave it to Minho to point out finer details.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, done with it all.

“Hey, I think we all just need to see the takeaway of this situation; Y/N is a Superior Prankster. On a God level.” Felix says. “Top-notch acting. I really thought you were upset.”

“Oh, I was. But I saw an opportunity that was too great to miss and took it. I got a good laugh out of it, Minho was set straight, and now all is forgiven.” Y/N says with a smile.

“Set straight.” Minho huffs out, under his breath, to himself. He strokes Nolai’s head as the Cat approaches where Minho now sits. “Is she always like this?” he asks the Cat, only to receive a meow that was neither a confirmation or in interest.

“Well, Y/N and I haven’t eaten so we will have our food now.” Chan looks at the counter space to see if he can find his order amongst the chaos of bags and boxes.

“Oh. I didn’t order you two any food.” Both Y/N and Chan’s heads whipped to Minho’s face. “Kidding! It’s in the microwave to keep warm.” Minho laughs

“Not gonna lie, I was ready to fight you.” Chan admits. “But I have to remind myself that I love you,” he adds putting a hand on Minho’s shoulder, sporting a tight smile.

“Yeah you do.” Minho smirks and winks at the older man, earning him a jab to the ribs,

~

Y/N wakes for the second morning expecting to be in her room back at home, in her featherwool stuffed mattress. She misses seeing the stuff she had in her cluttered room, the old dresser closet that held more than just her dressing items, with plants overflowing from up top. The writing desk Gaba built for her tenth birthday, she wrote and drew many things at her desk, and it was cluttered with all the little handcrafted knick-knacks the villagers would gift her. Y/N gets up to go to their odd bathroom. She is up before morning breaks, the sky beyond her window is still dark when she walks through the bedroom.

Y/N is leaving the borrowed bedroom and walking through the hall to the bathroom when she hears a soft, yet pleasing, humming. Curious as to where the hummed melody is coming from, Y/N follows it out to the living room.

Chan is sitting sideways on the sofa, his legs extended out in front of him, and with a laptop on his lap and headphones on his head. His back is to Y/N, and she watches as he is bobbing his head to the beat he is playing on the laptop. Chan starts to feel like he is being watched. Feeling spooked, he abruptly turns to find Y/N standing at the end of the hall, looking at him.

Smiling, Chan removes the headphones and asks, “What are you doing up?”

“I am always up before the Sunstar.” Y/N states as she approaches Chan. He moves his legs to allow space for her to sit next to him. Y/N takes the spot he offered. 

“Is Nolai up too?” Chan asks, looking around Y/N’s legs to find the dark Cat.

“Absolutely not.” Y/N chuckles, “He is one lazy Cat.” Chan nods and smiles at her laugh. “What are you doing up so early?” she inquires, eyeing the odd device resting on his lap.

“Oh, I didn’t go to sleep.” he informs her, and she notices the dark bags under his eyes. “I’ve been producing and preparing for when we do our next comeback album. I like to be ahead of the game.” he smiles sheepishly at her.

Y/N blushes at the sight of his exposed dimples and hopes it's dark enough to mask it from Chan’s notice. She recalls that the King only had one dimple, whereas Chan has a few on either side.

“I know a Spell that can energize you for up to 18 hours, but you do feel exhausted at the end of the day.” Y/N tells Chan. “If you’d like, I can use it on you, and maybe tonight you’ll get a good night sleep.”

Chan chuckles, “You sound like my old band mate, Woojin. He would nag me to get more rest.” Chan has a small smile on his face, Y/N cocks her head at him in question. “He left the group for personal reasons I won’t talk about. And I miss him a lot.”

Y/N sighs, feeling her heart get heavy at the reminder of how much she misses her best friend. “I know what you mean about missing your friend. It’s been two days since I’ve seen Ember, and I miss her greatly. She is the very best friend any Witch could have.” She feels herself smile as she talks about her amazing friend, “She’s fierce and loyal, and soft with children and animals. She’s quick to help anyone in need, no second thoughts before she jumps into any situation. She is a great hunter and is talented in singing. She is also the best listener and confidant, and she cares about me greatly, as I do her.” Y/N smiles at Chan, feeling her heart get lighter. “I am glad that I get the chance to know you and the others, you’ve been so helpful. I’m grateful to have you all as friends.”

Chan gives Y/N a toothy smile, feeling honored at her words. He clears his throat, “Well, thank you. I feel blessed hearing you call me a friend. I feel the same.” he smiles at her. “And if the offer still stands for that Spell you mentioned, I could definitely use it. We have a photoshoot to do this afternoon and I won’t have time to sleep.”

Y/N laughs, “Of course.” She gets up and stands in front of Chan, “But only if you take me to your shooting. I’ve been curious about it since Hyunjin tried to explain it yesterday.” Chan nods in acceptance with a smile. Y/N smiles back, then places her hands on either side of his head. The tips of her fingers begin to glow and patterns form around Chan’s head. “Just keep a steady breathing pattern, and let your eyes close when they feel heavy. You’ll sleep for about five to ten minutes, then wake feeling well rested.” Chan nods to indicate he understands.

After a few seconds, Chan falls asleep. Y/N uses the opportunity to use the restroom. When she comes back, Chan is still sleeping. She goes and sits next to him and hears music coming from his headphones, he never paused his track so it kept replaying. She gently removes the headphones from his neck and puts them on.

The melody she hears coming from the odd device is enchanting. Y/N leans back on the sofa and closes her eyes, listening to the pleasing noise, finding the different blend of sounds and tunes that were woven together to make the most beautiful music Y/N has ever heard. She felt the notes take her through a story of happy and intense moments.

As Y/N listens to the music playing from Chan’s computer, he wakes to see her with her eyes closed and gently swaying her head to the music. The sky begins to lighten up as sunrise approaches, casting a blue glow through the room, and on Y/N’s smooth and delicate features, giving her an ethereal appearance that has Chan wondering if she is some sort of Celestial being. Without thinking, Chan reaches out and caresses the smooth surface of her cheek.

Y/N opens her eyes upon feeling Chan’s hand touch her face. This makes the third time he has touched her face, and each time she feels the flutters of her heart get stronger. They lock eyes and, suddenly, they feel like magnets attracted to each other. ‘What is it about him? Why do I feel like his Stars call out to mine?’ Y/N wonders to herself. She notices herself leaning into Chan’s hand, which is still resting on her cheek, and is slightly surprised by her own bold move.

Chan looks her in the eyes and feels as though he is being pulled towards her, like a sailor to a siren’s song. ‘She feels like the melody I can’t get enough of, that I need to know the notes to.’ Chan feels his eyes fix themselves on Y/N lips when she leans into his hand. Chan begins to lean forward and uses the hand on her cheek to guide her towards him. He hesitates for a moment, not sure if she is okay with it. When her eyes flutter close, he takes that as consent to continue.

Lips centimeters apart, they are interrupted by someone clearing their throat at the end of the hall. Chan and Y/N jump apart when they hear the interruption and whip their heads around to find Felix standing there, a shit-eating grin on his face. “So, good morning?” he says, voice deep with sleep, indicating he must have just woken up.

Y/N flushes, shocked at being caught. She is partly thankful for the interruption, for she has never given way to her inhibitions before and she has no business getting attached to anyone of this world when she has her own world she’s trying to return to, and partly resentful, for reasons she chooses to ignore.

Chan gets up from the sofa and approaches the younger man. “Please don’t tell the others.” he pleads under his breath in English. “I don’t want them trying anything to ‘help’ or anything, because I know they’ll just mess it up. Especially Minho.” Chan knows he’ll never hear the end of it if Minho finds out.

“Sure, man. I got you.” Felix says, placing a hand on the older’s shoulder. “And just so you know, everyone ships you two.” Felix smiles when Chan groans, then continues to his original destination, the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, if I made you feel uncomfortable.” Chan says, facing Y/N. “I just kinda got lost in the moment.” he says, searching Y/N’s eyes for any hint of regret or anger.

Y/N shakes her head at him, “It's okay. I was giving into the moment as well, you don’t need to apologize, let’s just move on.” she says dismissively, handing him back his headphones, and Chan is a little hurt. “I was wondering if I could help whoever is making breakfast today.” she says, standing up from her spot on the sofa, and Chan gets up with her.

“That’ll be myself and Jeongin today. I am about to go to pick up what we need. Care to join me?” he puts a hand out towards Y/N, inviting her to go out with him.

“Sure,” she says, taking his hand, “let me just grab those contacts.” She turns and heads to the room and retrieves the contact lenses from the desk in her room.

~

Chan leads Y/N though the market store, and she is in awe at how the store provides everything they need in one location. All the meats and vegetables and seasonings and grains. At home, she had to go store to store to get what she needed for meals, for not one person has everything. She will need to suggest this to the townspeople when she gets back.

When they get back to the house, the boys are all awake, waiting for Chan to get back and get started on breakfast.

“Ugh. It’s about time you got back. I’m starving.” Jisung says before yawning and rubbing his belly.

“Yea. What took so long, Hyung?” Minho asks, “Were you two on a date?” He wiggles his eyebrows at the pair and Chan scoffs at him.

“A what?” Y/N asks, confused.

“You know, where two people go out to enjoy each other’s company and hold hands and kiss and stuff.” Minho says, a devilish smirk spreading across his face.

“For your information, we were getting the ingredients we need to make your breakfast. So shush up and be grateful.” Y/N says with a stern voice, ignoring the burning of her cheeks caused by Minho’s taunting. She huffs and him and turns to go to the kitchen.

Chan, Jeongin, and Y/N begin to cook breakfast. Or more like Chan and Jeongin cook breakfast and Y/N watches because she doesn’t know anything about the dishes they are creating. Before long, they two men start to put the dishes out for everyone to grab a plate and serve themselves. Everyone sits in the living room with their dishes and begins eating.

“So, what's on the agenda for today?" Changbin asks Chan when he gets situated with his food in his seat.

"Um, our schedule is pretty much open all morning. I was thinking of going to the studio and working on a new track I just started." Chan says and takes a quick bite of his food. "Then, at one this afternoon, we have a photo shoot."

"Okay. Jisung and I can join you if you would like help on that track." Changbin offers and Jisung nods along.

"That would be appreciated." Chan accepts. "Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin, if you don’t mind cleaning up here, then meeting the stylists to make sure they have the right outfits for the shoot. Hyunjin and Felix, would you be so kind as to take Y/N out shopping for new clothes? She asked to join us for our photoshoot today, and I think it would be best if she doesn't show up in matching outfits with Hyunjin."

"Yeah sure, Hyung. Not a problem." Felix says with a sly smile.

“I have no currency to buy anything, nor anything of value I can trade.” Y/N says, shaking her head at the boys.

Chan gives Y/N a small smile, “I know you don’t. Which is why I am offering to buy it for you.” Before Y/N can protest, Chan adds, “I’m doing this as a thank you for helping me out earlier. I really do appreciate it.”

“What did she do for you, Hyung?” Felix says, still sporting the same sly smile.

Chan eyes him with a warning look while he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, "Took away some of my tiredness with a Spell.” He says shortly. “Here’s my card. Don't go crazy with it, okay?" He hands the card to Hyunjin. "And please get a new coffee table while you're at it." He adds, looking at the space where the old one used to be.

"Sure thing." Hyunjin replies, taking Chan’s card. Hyunjin and Felix exchange a smile, and Chan wonders if he will regret allowing these boys in particular to make decisions over Y/N's wardrobe.

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

A/N: OOPS! I’m SOOOO sorry! I completely spaced to update! I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter! Even if it is late...

[the-goddessfighter]

[Werewolf-Vampire AU -SEQUEL VI: The Awakening of Hybrid Child- ]

by : Little1993lamb for: Temperans-sama / @the-goddessfighter Words count : 3449 Warning : The long awaited of Gaman's transformation as WereVamp hybrid, yoooo!!! Be prepared for that!  

Disclaimer: Gaman, the Batarou love child, is Original Character created by amazing @the-goddessfighter. Not mine, I just borrowed him temporarily for this story at her permission ;D

   @koeharu @metalbatandzenko @dies-first @beautifulnightmareus @guppys-paw @ruby-ess

- VI -

Back to several minutes ago when the Fortress had just breached by Garou's werewolf packs alliances, Garou and Gaman running through the corridors inside the Fortress followed with some of main family packs members including Tareo, looking for the court room which was located on the the center of Vampire Council Fortress. During the room searching, they minimalized the amount of fighting the guards on their way and instead focusing on rescue mission, therefore they're not wasting energy for unimportant fights. If there's royal guards get in the way, other family members will deal with them so Garou and Gaman could continue their mission without any hindrance. They must arrived on the court room quickly before the Judges giving any punishment to Badd, worst if the Judges decided to execute Badd on the spot. Didn't want to waste more time, they run faster towards the intended location.

While running, Garou arranged and explained the rescue strategies to Gaman and Tareo. Once they entered the court room, Garou will save Badd quickly and if needed also fights the royal guard if there's any of them while protecting Badd, Gaman and Tareo will save Zenko and take her to the safer place. After three of them evacuate, Garou will let Badd drink his blood so both of them could fighting together against anyone who will targeting them. One more thing, he instructed Gaman and Tareo to not fights or attacks innocent vampire civilians in the court room especially who's not involved with all of this problem.

If they must fight back, focus on the self-defense and always remember the main purpose of the mission: saving Badd and Zenko. Anything else beside that could wait later after they've got their beloved people back, safe and sound at home. That's their first priority for now. If there's someone trying to snatch Badd from Garou for one more time again after this whole rescue thing, they must deal with Garou's entire packs alliances first. Because this time, Garou was not alone anymore. He had all of his family and friends beside him, ready to help and protect each other.

Gaman couldn't wait to see his father again, it's just been a day without Badd but he's already missing him so much. It feels different when Badd wasn't at home. No homemade cooking, no night hunting or training. No scolding was heard whenever he and his dad doing something mischievous together against Badd. No musical instrument practice with his father and auntie Zenko after training or just listening his father playing violin to entertain his dad. No vinyl record player was heard when Garou and Badd slow dancing together at night, sometimes he noticed they stopped dancing just to share kisses between movements or an intimate embrace (Gaman didn't want to ruin their "romantic moment" together).

No goodnight kiss from his father before they sleep, and definitely no warm cuddle when he sleeps between his dad and his father. Not that he didn't like to just sleep with only his dad like the last night, but it's weird and not completed without his father's presence. And Gaman was sure as hell his dad felt the same, he already saw how much his dad missing his father terribly. Garou looked so lonely and lost without Badd, even just for a day only, showed how much sorrow a werewolf would feel without his Mate. Gaman hates to see his dad got sad like that, that's why he was determinated to take Badd back from the Vampire Council's clutch so they can be together again as family.

After dodging many of royal guards on their way to Badd's trial court room, finally they could see the room's door just a few metres in front of them. Gaman feels happy now he could meet his father again soon, but then he heard loud chaotic voices coming from the court room. Sounds like a big ruckus happened here. Many of those are unrecognized people voices, but one of the loudest voices was exactly coming from Badd! He's in the middle of shouting something to the people in there.

What's happening to him? Is his father okay? It really worried Gaman because he couldn't see or knowing Badd's current situation. Garou seems to realize this too, hence as soon as they're already in the front of closed court room's door, they kicked and smashed the old wooden door so they could break into the room quickly.

The court room's door was broken down and opened forcefully, revealed vampire civilians spectators in chaos, the Judges Elders and the royal family vampire members were being held hostage by several nasty looking pureblood vampires, Zenko who's still struggling from Amai Mask's restrain hold, and in the very middle of the room was a defenseless Badd who's ready to be attacked by Amai Mask's lackeys. Badd noticed their arrival and tried to call his family for help, but Amai's lackeys already in motion to kill him. At the same time Garou also rushing to save Badd.

Time feels stopped around Gaman, everything seems to be in slow motion for him. His father is gonna be executed--, no, to be killed? Why? Because from what he'd heard before Badd was already won his trial, thus he should be free and they can take him back to home as soon as possible. So, why did they still try to kill Badd? What did his father do wrong to them? Why did those people trying to take his father away from him again after all they succeeded to come here? And if Badd was killed right here, how was Gaman supposed to life without him?

Without who carried him in his womb for several months, who brought him to this world, who's the first person greeted him after he was born, who gave him all the motherly love, who showed him the amazing world outside, who taught him the hunting skills and proper manner as a good person in the family (surprisingly for short-tempered man), who always cooked delicious meal for him and his dad every dinner time even though he himself not eating it except for the blood, who singing lullaby or serenade songs whenever he had a nightmare, who allowed to sleep and snuggle between him and his dad, who gives goodnight kisses on his head then on his dad's lips when they thought he's already sleeping, also who gives a good morning kiss when he wake up.

Gaman didn't want to lose his father, and he's sure his dad also feels the same, too. Gaman couldn't imagine how much anguish his dad would feel if he lost his Mate forever, considering most Alpha werewolf would died in brokenheart after the death of their Mate, and Gaman didn't want to lose both of his parents because of that. He wanted to save his parents. He wanted to protect his family. He would do anything to keep his family save, just like what his parents always do. He wanted to be stronger, much stronger than this!  

In his moment of frustation and pure intense determination to protect his family, Gaman screaming his head off while unconsciously activated his leveled up "Fighting Spirit". As soon as it fully activated, his entire body was glowing while emanating a dangerous aura, and his screaming voice gradually changed to a thunderous roar much like Garou's. Gaman's jet-black hair slowly turned into snow white colour like his dad, his legs become werewolf-like legs, all of his nails grow much longer into sharp werewolf claws. His bright yellow gold irises changed into vivid gold colored irises and his normally white scleras turned into black colored ones, makes his eyes looked exactly like Garou. His fangs also become more elongated and sharper until it clearly seen peeked between his lips. And finally, he sprouting a pair of wide leathery vampire wings on his back, but instead of normally pitch black colored like Badd's or common other vampires' one, it was beautiful fair white colored like Werewolf Garou's fur color.

This is Gaman's awakening form, where he successfully transformed into his real Werewolf-Vampire Hybrid form: half werewolf and half vampire. His overall appearance showed that he's indeed a love child between a werewolf and a vampire, combination of Garou's and Badd's traits. Not only Gaman got their physical appearances, but also his parents' inherited special ability. Werewolf tribes, especially Alpha ones, have incredible brute strength quick regenerative power. So from Garou's side, Gaman will have advantage to use those traits for his martial arts skill. Vampire clans, exactly tame vampire clan, have "Fighting Spirit" which often used for guarding royal family clan. So from Badd's side, Gaman will have great durability and stamina during fighting.

A brief seconds after transformation, Gaman immediately charged very fast towards Amai's lackeys who's going to attack Badd then kicked and knocked them all unconscious with quick graceful movements. After that, with his channeled "Fighting Spirit" into his claws, he broke Badd's restraint chains with one swift clawing motion. Once Badd got free, Garou rushing in to hold Badd in protective embrace, make sure he was okay. Amai Mask, who's pissed off because his plan was ruined, becomes off-guard at keeping Zenko still.

Knowing Amai was getting off-guard, Zenko gathering her remained "Fighting Spirit" power and elbows Amai's solar plexus as hard as she could then striked him hard on the jaw until he's toppled down as Zenko freed herself from his hold. Zenko joining their family, gathering together in the middle of the court room while the rest of family packs member stand-by on the entrance, waiting for next instruction from their Big Boss.

All of the audiences, both the Judges and Spectators, were shocked seeing what was happening in here. This was the first time they saw a Werewolf-Vampire hybrid exist, and not as what they thought previously. Instead of abominable creature like they imagined before, it was actually the most stunning being they've ever seen. Never expected that from a forbidden mating of werewolf and vampire could resulted in birthing a hybrid this beautiful.

On the other hand, Garou and Badd were also very astounded by Gaman's awakening transformation. They never thought that the day they could see their child transform into his final form finally comes. It's a really great achievement! Badd could feel his heart swell with proud feeling for Gaman, while Garou give a soft smile (looked more like smirk) of full approval to Gaman. Zenko also very happy to see his dear nephew already grow stronger than before.

Still being held hostage, the Judges Elders who were flabbergasted for a while asking Gaman if it's true that he's Badd's own hybrid child. Gaman answered yes it's true, he's the child of Badd and Garou. The Judges continued to ask out of curiosity, if Gaman knowing that a relationship between a vampire and a werewolf is forbidden, which violated the Vampire Codes thus it made Badd got in trouble like this. Gaman replied firmly, that he knows everything about the prohibition and the taboo things behind it. But he doesn't care about it all because his parents truly loving each other unconditionally and both of them also become caring partners to their family, too. So it doesn't really matter if they're from different race or not. As long as there's pure love and dedication to commit a relationship together it will be fine, no matter how many obstacles they will faced later.

Amused by Gaman's straightforward answers, they asked why would Gaman suddenly transformed in the middle of Badd's trial, is it to attack everyone in this room as a revenge to what they did for his father. Also, they wondering if his transformation was triggered by some dark intention towards all of vampires race in here. Slightly annoyed by their accusation tone even if it's not intended, Gaman give a firm answer that no, his transformation doesn't even have an ill intention towards them all. He just thinking of his family's safety all the time. So his transformation was purely motivated by the desire to protect them and the strong determination to do it wholeheartedly.

All of the audiences in the court room were stunned by Gaman's honest explanation about his love he has for his parents, proved that he's truly grow up in a caring family within good environments. Badd must hold back his tears so hard after hearing such full of love yet brave confession from Gaman. He's very touched by it that he finally snivelling quietly in Garou's enveloping embrace while feeling so proud and happy because of his son. Same with Badd, Gaman's words also brought Garou nearly in tears (albeit he's not crying), fully approving all of Gaman's pure motivations. He's gazing proudly to Gaman before looking at Badd who's crying happily in his embrace, wiping the tears away from Badd's face while whispering to him, "That's our baby boy, Badd. Protectiveness really runs in the family, eh?".

Their happy moment suddenly interupted by clapping sound that echoed in the court room. It comes from Amai Mask who just recovered from Zenko's hard punches. He mockly said he's quite touched hearing Gaman's entire speech and seeing their little family reunion, but it's be meaningless because they all will be annihillated soon. Amai had already anticipated for this kind of situation before, so he already prepared reinforcement from his whole family members to come into Vampire Council Fortress, with sole purpose on both overthrowing the royal family and destroying the werewolf tribes who gathered in the Fortress right now.

To prevent the counterattack from royal family, Amai already sabotaged all the royal family guards who's in charge on guarding the outside Fortress into siding with him, leaving the royal guards inside Fortress still siding with royal family. He did this so his family members reinforcement could infiltrated into the Fortress and assassinate all the royal family clan. One of the Elders said he can't do that to them, for it was a highest treason act against the Vampire Order. Amai answered it doesn't really matter anymore, because he'd got secure position in Vampire Council with special rights, and also he got supported by entire pureblood vampure family clans who entrusted his family clan to carry out the mission.

In their secret meeting, they've complained that the royal family has been deemed too soft on regulating the Vampire Order that it would even let a traitor from lower class family clan get away with his werewolf newfound family and became a Mate of one wolf pack's leader. They saw it as a disgrace to vampire communities, tarnishing vampire race's pride. So they must trying to get rid the current royal family and overthrow their authority as soon as possible. Thay way, they could reign the Vampire Order with iron clad rule to prove that vampire race is the most superior supernatural being, no weakness allowed.

So they decided to frame Badd the co-leader of werewolf pack as Vampire Codes offender then bring him to Elders Court trial. They make a bet that the royal family would attend the trial and all the werewolf packs would come to the Vampire Council Fortress to save Badd. In that time, they'll ambush them. It's like killing two birds with one stone. Effective and efficient.

As soon as Amai finished explaining his intention, a guard hurriedly running into the court room to relay the information to the Elders, that there's an army of pureblood vampires marching towards the Fortress. Those were Amai's pureblood big family clan ready to besiege all of the Fortress' current residents. Sensing early small victory, Amai chuckled and said this is his time to watch the beauty of crumbling reign from outside, he really anticipated this exact moment for so long. But before he get outside, he told them that he must eliminated the one person who ruined his other plan to kill the vampire traitor: Badd's hybrid child!

He charged so fast towards Gaman with murder intention, but Garou was already blocked and repels the attack before Amai could manage to touch Gaman. Garou and Badd already shielding their son from Amai Mask. Furious about Amai's action, Garou asked what the hell he was doing to his innocent son, and warned that he should never hurt his family member anymore, if Amai still had that intention then he must fight him first.

Amai Mask just playfully answered that it's just a payback from ruining the part of his great plan. Afterall, it's funny to see a werewolf gets so pissed over his so called "packs" and maybe it's interesting to fight Garou again like the old days when he tried to kill Badd himself in their past encounters. At the mention of that horrible past events made Garou's blood boil, but still not letting his guard off and stay alert to what Amai planned to do next. Hearing his family clan army finally arrived, Amai bid his farewell to all of the Fortress residents who will soon be dead at any time from now on and flee from the room's broken window.

Immediately Garou gives the packs his instruction to prepare the upcoming battle from both on the outside or inside the Fortress. Because most the packs' fighter groups already engaging in combat on the Fortress yard, anyone who still could fight in this rescue group should be aiding the royal family and the innocent vampire civillians by evacuating them to more secure place. It's no time to fight over differences between them right now because as Badd had said before this is the change for both sides to helping each other sincerely.

Garou, Badd, and Gaman would join the rescue-fighter group to protect the royal family together, while Zenko and Tareo would join the evacuation team to aid the civilians in the Fortress and to help if there's any people got hurt from enemies' attack. After all the civillians and royal family could be evacuated to safer place, they should guard the said place until the battle ended so no enemies could entered it. Once the evacuation is successful and they guard the place, Garou himself would pursue Amai Mask on the outside Fortress to end their unfinished business, then continue to help outside fighter group along with Bang and Bomb. Badd and Gaman also should gathering with him on the outside, too. All have agreed with his instruction, they preparing on each position already.

Tareo, who's also coming there to brought along Badd's signature weapon metal bat, presenting it to Badd before joining Zenko to evacuation team. Badd was ready to going with Gaman helping the royal family, when Garou suddenly yanked him into his tight embrace. He missed Badd very much and so relieved that he's still alive, safe and sound in his arms. Badd returned the hug with same intensity while caressing Garou's back, he's glad that he still can see Garou again, and he can't wait to return to their home together again.

Smiling at Badd's beautiful happy face, Garou leaned down to kiss Badd deeply, expressing how much he loves his fiery small vampire Mate. Badd also made the kiss more passionate by encircling his arms around Garou's neck so he can kiss Garou more deeper. He really loves when Garou showing his affection like this, even when in public places.

Then Badd peppering kisses to his jaw until his lips on Garou's jugular where he could feel warm blood pumping fast under the layer of flawless white skin. Garou said it's okay for Badd to drink his blood right now, because it's the right time to activate his legendary "Fighting Spirit". Badd kissed Garou's neck as agreement, then proceed to bite down to taste the sweet warm delicious blood, drinking it eagerly. He got the rush of power surge in his body as soon as he gulped Garou's blood, made him feel more excited and energized.

With the needs for Garou's blood replenished, he could transformed again into his Fighter Vampire form at the moment, complete with the wide pitch black leathered BlackBat wings sprouting on his back and activated "Fighting Spirit". Garou smiled at the sight of it, glad that his lovely Badd's badass form comes back again.

After he finished drinking, Garou and him gazing softly at each other for a moment and resumed their kiss again, both as a reunion and good luck kiss. Their sweet moment was interupted by Gaman's coughing voice and knowing looks, signaling his parents it's time to get back in action. Nodding to each other, they finally ready to fight in their own position.

  -TBC-

  Notes:

Garou and Badd please don't PDA in front of your son, just continue your lovey dovey session at home or in the woods like usual later, "privately" 😂😚😎😏

And YAAY FOR BATAROU FAMILY REUNITED TOGETHER AGAIN, WOOHOOO!! ALSO THEY'RE GONNA FIGHTING TOGETHER AS FAMILY UNIT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER YAYYY!!! 👏👏😭💗💘💕💖

On the next part where they're in battle, I'm so sorry for the crap quality of it, I can't even write fight scenes so please forgive me if it feels not satisfying to read aaaaaa I'm talentless at it, so embarassing 😭🙏🙇

 -Little1993lamb-

[excindrela]

If You Take a Demon to Thanksgiving... (18+)

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV  x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff/ Humor and SMUT

Warnings: Explosions, Destruction, Unprotected sex (wrap it up people), foul language, use of the word “cock”

Word Count: 3277

AN: This is a continuation of Summoned so if you haven’t read that one, I recommend you read that one first! 

12 Days of Demon Ayno (Christmas) : Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

Happy Thanksgiving!

In retrospect, taking the boyfriend you had only been with for a month to Thanksgiving probably wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had. The fact that said boyfriend was also a demon that had been summoned specifically to fulfill your sexual fantasies, and your family was dysfunctional at best made the idea really really bad.

As distasteful as the idea of actually being human was to him, Ayno made a concerted effort to pretend to be one – to the best of his ability. As a demon, he didn’t need to sleep or eat or shower…or anything…he was just available 24 hrs a day to fulfill your every desire…and the fact that he always knew exactly what you desired- be it a cupcake or his cock- the moment you desired it, sometimes made things a bit complicated. Especially when it involved anyone but the two of you.

You had spent the week leading up to Thanksgiving explaining the holiday to Ayno, and going over a rather detailed chart you drew up of the part of your family you’d be visiting. He memorized the chart and asked questions about your step-father with his need to baby the dog and unhealthy addiction to reality TV, your mother’s obsession with decorating the house via Pinterest and her perpetually drunk brother, and your worthless step-brother (in the process learning what a “misdemeanor” and a “felony” were)…but really he just wanted to watch “A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving” over and over.

You arrived promptly at 11 for a 2pm “dinner” with the promise to Ayno that you’d leave as soon as the dishes were done.

You barged through the door of your childhood home loudly calling “Hi Mom!” as you headed straight for the kitchen. “Hi honey! Oh! …and who’s this?” she asked glancing speculatively at the handsome stranger lurking over your shoulder. “Mom, this is Ayno. My…boyfriend. Ayno, this is my Mom.”  “Hi” he greeted. Sticking to the plan of keeping things simple and saying as little as possible. “Hello Ayno. Welcome.” Your mom replied before turning to you and saying pointedly “I wasn’t aware you were dating anyone…” You shrugged. “Surprise? I have a…boyfriend.” You said unapologetically. “I’m going to show Ayno around.” You said as you dragged him away from your mother before she could start asking questions.

In the den, you found your step-dad, milk-toast aunt and alcoholic uncle watching the football pregame while drinking beer and eating chips & dip. They barely acknowledged your presence, and if they were surprised to see you with a six foot Asian man following you around, they didn’t show it.

You poked your head into the dining room and checked out the table, already resplendent with a lace table cloth, battery powered pillar candles, and a giant turkey shaped tureen in the center – despite the fact that no soup was set to be served.

The living room, you explained as you crossed through it, was for looks only. Touching- or worse, sitting on-  your mother’s special furniture or disturbing her artistically arranged designer throw pillows was not tolerated.

Large sliding glass doors in the living room led to the patio and backyard. The patio had been swept and there was a stack of plastic chairs and tables to be set up. Your step father’s adored mutt, Patches, came running right up to Ayno, putting his paws up on his leg, demanding ear scratches which the soft demon happily supplied.  “What is that?” Ayno asked, pointing to a metal cylinder sitting in the middle of the yard. You walked over and examined it. “I think it’s a deep fryer.” You said suspiciously. “I think my step dad and uncle are going to try to deep fry the turkey.” You shook your head- this seemed like a bad idea. “At least my mom is making a ham, so something will be edible.”

“What is that?” Ayno asked again, this time pointing to the large oak tree in the corner of the yard. You laughed, “That is my treehouse! It was my favorite escape as a kid. C’mon, I’ll show you.” A moment later you had dragged Ayno across the yard and were climbing up the rickety ladder with him. You shoved hard, and the hatch opened to reveal the small space that had seemed so big in childhood. It was covered in dust, and the walls still had faded posters from your pre-teen years. “I spent hours up here. It was my happy place. I always envisioned it as being an escape and a private place during my teen years…but…that’s not how things worked out.” Sensing your wistfulness, Ayno bent his head and kissed you sweetly.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of a car door signaling the arrival of your step-brother and voices in the yard. “Oh good! Ayno! C’mere & give us a hand with this.” Your step dad called as you descended the ladder. Ayno squeezed your hand reassuringly and went to help them.

The rest of the day proceeded like most awkward family events. Inappropriate and embarrassing stories were told, too many snacks and too much alcohol was consumed. Ayno stuck by you working in the kitchen, happy to do whatever was asked of him, and content to let you deflect conversation and answer questions about him. Eventually he felt comfortable enough to go sit on the patio with everyone and listen to your family’s chatter. Everyone seemed to think he was nice, if not a little odd.

You had serious doubts about the sanctity of the meal when your drunk uncle announced it was time to do the turkey, and came into the kitchen where you were assembling more snacks and yanked the still frozen fowl from the freezer and headed for the backyard.

In the next 3 minutes of your life events occurred simultaneously in what felt like slow motion.

“Will ya all jist shut the hell up? I know what I’m doin’!” your uncle said as he lowered the ice block of bird toward the overfull deep fryer. He released the clip and the turkey dropped like a bomb splashing into the vat and sending boiling oil flying into the air and cascading over the edges of the deep fryer straight into the flame below it. As soon as the frozen meat hit the scalding oil, everything exploded into a giant fireball raining hot flaming oil and chunks of turkey all over the dead un-mowed backyard, causing the whole thing to burst into 3 foot high flames.

The sound of the deep fryer being blown apart startled your mother so badly that she dropped the pan with the ham in it that she had just pulled out of the oven. The chunk of pork bounced out and the pan landed upside down in the middle of the kitchen floor, bubbling ham juice running out and turning the white tile brown. Something brushed passed your leg, and you looked down just in time to see Patches run into the kitchen making a beeline for the downed ham. Your mother saw it too, and she tried to run and grab the meat before the dog made off with the only (mostly) surviving entrée, forgetting about the bourbon and brown sugar grease lake that now coated the floor. You watched helplessly as her feet hit the grease and slipped right out from under her and she landed face down in the gooey puddle with a thunk on her right arm.

A blur out of your opposite eye diverted your attention back to the yard where your step-father was beating your slightly- on- fire uncle with a dry crispy chamois from the garage yelling “Roll, Duke, roll!!” He was distracted and missed the moment it became obvious that your step-brother had flunked high school chemistry class, because he turned the hose on to the raging grease fire turning it into what would later be known in your family as The Turkey Inferno.

You stood there, stupidly, as the mayhem raged around you, with a useless crudité platter in one hand and your forgotten cell phone in the other. You heard sirens in the distance, and hoped they were heading your way. And then, another sound: laughter. You looked over to see Ayno, laughing so hard he was crying, huge smile and face lit up, so delighted he was slumped back in the plastic lawn chair clapping his hands and his feet. “It looks just like the Seven Pools of the Damned!” he cried excitedly.

*          *          *

Two hours later, you were a hot, sweaty, filthy mess. After the fire department had arrived and hosed down the back yard in some kind of foam, and the ambulance had taken your mom and uncle to the hospital; you got to work cleaning up the kitchen, which was not only a disaster from the whirlwind of cooking, but now included the ham lake and burned sweet potatoes that had been forgotten in the oven. Ayno had helpfully begun un-setting the table and cleaning up the back patio.

Patches, having feasted on a whole ham and who knew what else, began throwing up and having explosive diarrhea all over the house. It was while cleaning up the 5th pile of puke that you discovered your good for nothing step-brother was sitting in the den watching football leaving you to do all the work. You handed him the paper towels and cleaning solution and told him to get off his lazy ass and clean up after the dog…he elected to go to the hospital to “check in on everyone”.

That was it. You were done. Everyone but you and Ayno had gone to the hospital, you hadn’t seen him for a while, and you weren’t sure where he was, and at the moment you didn’t actually care. You had a splitting headache and you were not doing this by yourself. You walked into the guest room and fell face down onto the bed.

You had no idea how long you had slept, but it was dark when you felt Ayno gently shake you awake. “No? Wha-“was all you got out before Ayno gave a soft “Shhhh” and placed his finger to your lips. He looped your arms around his neck and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he stood up, yanking the quilt off the bed and wrapping it around you as he carried you through the dark house and across the still smoking backyard. He walked straight to the treehouse, and climbed the rickety ladder with you still wrapped around him like a baby koala.

Now you knew where he’d gotten to. He had cleaned up the tree house, and covered the entire floor in pillows that he’d swiped from the house. He’d even grabbed the battery powered candles from the dinner table, so the whole thing was bathed in soft fake candlelight. He set you down in the pile of pillows and closed the hatch.

Without a word he pulled you onto his lap and began kissing you. Softly at first, his hands on the sides of your face, but becoming harder and more needy by the second as his fingers threaded through your hair and his tongue plundered your mouth. He broke away long enough to pull your sweater off over your head, before returning his lips to your now exposed neck. His mouth worked its way from your jawline to your shoulder in a long trail of wet kisses punctuated by gentle sucking and bites that were just harsh enough you knew they would leave marks. You were so distracted by his mouth that you almost missed his hands unfastening your bra and tossing it to the side. The cold air coming in contact with your fully exposed breasts caused them to immediately flush and harden. You reached down and grabbed Ayno’s sweater and turtleneck and yanked them both off of him at the same time, desperate to press your cold skin against his unnatural warmth. He obliged you, taking the opportunity to begin marking up your shoulder as he hiked your skirt up over your thighs letting it pool around your waist. His hand slipped down to begin rubbing your throbbing clit through your silky underwear. You moaned softly and pressed your mound harder against his hand. Ayno lifted your hips slightly and re-settled you on his right thigh. “Ride it”, he whispered. You nodded and began rolling your hips against the rough fabric of his jeans, trying desperately to satisfy the ache he had created in your core. You gasped as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud, and then hollowing out his cheeks and sucking. You quickened your pace and trembled slightly at the friction. Breathy moans spilled from your lips as you felt your climax building and your thighs starting to shake. “Ayno…” you moaned, without slowing your pace, causing him to release your nipple with a lewd pop. “Ready to cum baby?” he asked rubbing your sides soothingly. You nodded and whined as your walls began clenching around nothing, feeling your wetness release and soak through Ayno’s pants to his skin. You dropped your head to his shoulder “Not enough, not enough…” you whined into his ear, “Fill me…please…” you begged. Ayno laid back into the pile of pillows unbuckling his belt so you could drag his pants to his ankles. You wasted no time pulling his boxer briefs down behind them, watching as his erect cock sprung free. You straddled his hips and he gently stroked himself a few times before holding it vertically so you could slide onto him. You moaned as you felt the tip of his length at your entrance, already so wet that you pushed him easily between your folds, until he was fully buried in you. Soft high pitched noises came from your mouth as you circled your hips feeling his slight movements deep within you as his fingers rubbed circles on your clit in time with your movements. Knowing you needed more, he lifted your hips up, and began jackhammering in and out of your sopping pussy from below. Every stroke the head of his cock pounded into your cervix, causing you to throw your head back and cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Oh fuck yes! Don’t stop…” you gritted out through clenched teeth as your vision got hazy and your second orgasm hit you and you could swear the whole room was moving. Ayno released his grip on you and let you slide back down his shaft while he rolled his hips to let you come down from the high, but you still felt like you couldn’t get enough. You put your hands on the top of his pecs, fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage as you began lifting your hips up and slamming back into his harshly. The whole treehouse creaked and moaned with every thrust. “Not enough baby?” he asked breathlessly. “Noooo…” you moaned, “I just…I need…you feel so good…” you whined.

You thrust down hard and suddenly there was a loud crack. Not your imagination this time, the whole floor jolted down and tilted to the left. You froze. “Ayno…I think we have a problem…” He opened his mouth to reply when there was a loud snap and the entire floor detached with you and Ayno riding it like an elevator to hell, and went crashing to the ground below, pillows flying everywhere. Unable to be harmed by something as trivial as a six foot drop, Ayno wrapped himself protectively around you, holding your head to his chest and covering you with his arms.

Suddenly the still of the evening was split by the sounds of voices you knew all too well. “Oh my God!!” “What the shit was that?!” “Oh hell! The patio cover didn’t collapse did it?!” as the backyard floodlights came on and your family, having returned from the hospital unnoticed by you; came running across the yard to find you and Ayno, mostly naked, obviously in the middle of copulation, laying in the middle of the destroyed treehouse. You stared at them. They stared at you. Then it seemed your mother gathered her wits and took in the situation, a look of horror crossing her face as she screamed “OH MY GOD!! ARE THOSE MY CHENILLE THROW PILLOWS??? THOSE ARE POTTERY BARN!!” Ayno burst out laughing.

*          *          *

An hour after you got home you were feeling much better having showered off the horrific events of the day and slipped into your PJs. You found Ayno lounging on the couch in flannel pants and an oversize sweatshirt…hair having suddenly turned platinum blonde but his eyes still a deep chocolate brown according to your whims. He sat up just enough to grab you and pull you down to lay on top of him, wrapping his arms around you and giving you a quick kiss in the process.

“I have enjoyed this ‘Thanksgiving’. We should definitely participate in this more often. When is the next one?” Ayno asked happily.

“Sorry sweetheart. Thanksgiving is a once a year thing. There won’t be another one until November of next year.” you informed him.

“Very well. Then I will look forward to it.” he said with a smile.

“Ayno? You do understand that I mean 365 days from now?” you clarified.

He nodded. “I understand your measurements of time.” he said matter-of-factly.

You laid there stunned for a moment. Ayno was talking about a year from now…still being here a year from now. This was the first mention of anything long term, of some kind of permanence to the situation.

Ever attuned to you, Ayno looked you straight in the eyes and asked softly “Am I really your boyfriend?”

“Do you know what a boyfriend is?” you countered.

“Yes! ‘A male that is close to your heart. He is the one you can't stand to go a day without seeing. He provides everything you need, including sex, love, protection, comfort and an escape from the world. A lover who admires you for who you are. Knowing him makes you a better person. And being with him makes you smile.’”

Well. That was a startlingly accurate description. “Ayno, where did you hear that?”

“Urban Dictionary.”

“…and did Urban Dictionary tell you what a girlfriend is?”

“Uh-huh. ‘A female who you love, admire, respect, and desire to be with; a girl who makes you laugh, smile and who brings out the best in you, the one person that you should value over every other thing. You must protect her for she is the most special thing that could ever happen to you. She’s someone that you want to hug and kiss all the time and make love to, and is also able to bleed for a week without dying.’” He paused. “I find this description to be accurate of my feelings toward you...but I do not know if I meet the boyfriend requirements.”

You smiled down at him. “You more than meet them. Do you want to really want to be my boyfriend Ayno?”

He grinned. “Yes! In over 800 years I have never had a ‘girlfriend’. I promise I will take good care of you.”

“You already do.” You said as you snuggled into him and laid your head on his chest.

“So since I must wait for Thanksgiving again, is there another holiday that…how did your mother put it? We can ‘ruin forever’?” he asked hopefully.

“There’s a whole calendar full babe”, you laughed ruefully, “A whole calendar full.”

[thesaltyoceanwaves]

Nice Guy Adrien the Musical Outline: ACT I

Please note that I’m going to using the word “show”, but if it were up to me, the way that this would be structured would be over the course of a few episodes, probably closer to the finale. Admittedly, it’d be kind of weird to change up the show to suddenly start including musical numbers, but this is an AU, so I can do what I want. :P

*”World According to Chris” was originally planned to be a Chloe number but an anon suggested that it be a Lila number instead. Since she already had “Bop to the Top” in this act, and Lila needed a “haha I’m dating Adrien now” number, I decided to give it to her.

@lenoreofraven​

The show opens with Marinette scrambling to get to school It’s going to be a rather busy day, and it’s off to a not-so promising start. First, she slept through her alarm, again, after spending most of her night fighting an akuma and then having to finish a major assignment for class that day. Then, she barely remembered the meeting meant for student reps later that day about the school dance and the catering that had to be hired. As she runs over to her class, she just barely manages to give a passing wave to Kagami and Felix, heading to their own classroom, and Luka, who is walking over to his own school, not too far from Francois-Dupont. When she enters the class, Lila is of course the center of attention again, while everyone eyes Marinette warily. The story of Il Malocchio has been told by this point, and with the number of unfortunate incidents happening to her, people are starting to put some stock in the idea that Marinette is actually cursed. With that in mind, Lila decides today is the day to strike. She sets up the tone of a conversation that involves Marinette and various other members of the class, that allows her to naturally mention Marinette’s crush on Adrien, just as he enters the class. Marinette finds it difficult to backtrack and has to come clean. Later, during lunch, he pulls her aside and turns her down. The rest of the day isn’t much easier. She’s barely able to focus during student rep activities, even with Alya at her side, and just as she’s about to head home, an akuma attacks. It’s evening when we find Dragonbug going after an akumatized Mirielle Cauquet. (Going Through the Motions)

Back at the Agreste Mansion, Adrien laments his lack of freedom and loneliness, as his father once again bails on dinner plans, after telling him that he’s expected for another big modelling shoot, and then a major dinner party for a charity event. He also gives himself a moment or two to lament how he had to turn down his friend at school. All of that is forgotten when he sees Dragonbug flying across town, fighting an akuma. Ecstatic, he transforms into Chat Noir and announces how he can’t wait for a night of mischief and romance. (Macavity Part 1)

Just as Chat Noir arrives, Dragonbug manages to defeat the akuma. After helping Mirielle out, Dragonbug retreats somewhere to transform back, and Chat pursues her, finally finding out her identity. There’s an awkward silence as it begins to hit Marinette. On top of everything else she’s had to deal with, she’s now had her identity compromised. Realizing it’s not fair to her, Chat drops his transformation and suggests that now that everything has been revealed, they can start dating. Marinette is dumbfounded. He just turned her down this morning, but now he wants to date? Oh. She realizes it’s because she’s Ladybug. Adrien asks her what the problem is, and soon, all sorts of things start spilling from Marinette’s mouth. How he’s disrespected her saying no in the past. How he’s made Chloe and Lila more of a priority over her. How he’s flirted with other girls. Just because they have feelings for each other doesn’t mean that they’re right for each other or would make a good couple. She insists that they should remain friends for now. (FRIENDS)

Adrien, of course, doesn’t like this answer. After she leaves and goes home to get some rest, he starts sending her texts. “Can’t we talk it out?” “Are you sure it’s not just cuz you had a bad day?” etc, etc. He also texts Alya about the situation, and she’s immediately on board to get Adrinette to happen. The next day at school, Alya drags Marinette away toward the girl group and asks her why she turned Adrien down when they were this close to becoming a couple. Marinette, trying to keep the details vague, says that she learned something about Adrien that made her think that they’d be better off staying friends. Alya is under the impression that Marinette is just scared to take the next step. The other members of the girl group chime in and give their opinions on the matter. However, Marinette is not swayed and goes to class. Alya lets Adrien know that she’s failed to convince Marinette. “Don’t worry” he texts her “I’ll think of something.” (Marry the Mole)

Marinette decides to go home for lunch and escape all of the drama. She waves hello and goodbye to Luka, Kagami and Felix, all gathered in the courtyard to go to lunch. They are confused as she walks away, shoulders hunched and clearly looking down. While Luka texts her, Felix and Kagami point out how stressed out Marinette has been lately, and how it feels like she’s pushing them away. Someone needs to talk to her and see how things are going. Felix admits it’s not his forte, so it’s between Luka and Kagami. (How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?) 

We cut to Chloe and Sabrina eating lunch at the hotel. A perfectly well-balanced meal has been prepared for the bee heroine. Chloe has been working very hard in every aspect of her civilian life to prepare herself to take action as Queen Bee again, and that includes her diet. And generally staying out of drama, like the stuff happening with Dupain-Cheng, Rossi and Adrikins. “How ridiculous,” she retorts as she takes a sip of her tea. She has to admit, it’s somewhat fascinating, but Queen Bee can’t go around provoking more akumas by sticking her nose into other people’s business. Sabrina and Jean both praise Chloe for being so considerate, and say that Ladybug would be so proud. However, it’s not enough for Chloe, so she makes sure she has Jean prepare her obstacle course for later. After all, a hero has to stay in tip-top shape. (Bop to the Top) 

Marinette comes back from lunch, contemplating something she learned from her mother, when she sees the attention has settled back on Lila. This time, she reveals that she and Adrien are officially dating. Marinette doesn’t believe it, but everyone else says it’s the truth, and that she really shouldn’t be jealous. As they all go back to class, Lila manages to get Marinette alone and breaks it to her that her “goody two-shoes act” wasn’t enough to win over Adrien, and now she has no one else left. The real world favors people like Lila, who do whatever it takes to get what they want, especially if it’s mean and nasty. Even Adrien couldn’t help but be won over by her. (World According to Chris) 

The rest of the day passes by in a blur, as Marinette can’t help but try to escape and have her meltdown somewhere private. It feels like some plot Hawkmoth has cooked up to get her akumatized. What if he’s figured out who she is? Tikki tries her hardest to calm Marinette down, but it’s only thanks to intervention from Luka, Kagami and Felix that she manages to avoid getting akumatized. Luka deduces that something really bad is going on, and plays a little something to calm her down. Kagami gently asks Marinette why she decided to skip out on lunch. Marinette, without giving away too much, reveals some of the stuff regarding Adrien and Lila. With break coming up, and a possible trip to China, she’s hoping that things will look up, but she’s not even sure if she can go. With some convincing, the trio get her to consider going. However, she has to make a stop to Fu and make some arrangements. (Are You Satisfied?) 

Chat arrives at the location for patrol, expecting to meet Ladybug and get her reaction to him dating Lila. However, he comes face to face with Ryuko instead. She explains that she will be filling in for Ladybug while she takes something of a break. Chat pouts. Why hadn’t he been told about this sooner? Ryuko reveals that she just found out about it today. Chat makes some sort of comment to raise Ryuko’s suspicions. Chat continues to make comments to put Ryuko off, and she has just as many venomous retorts in kind. Optionally, Viperion might also appear to play peacekeeper and keep the two from going completely at each other’s throats. (I Don’t Like You) 

Returning home from patrol, Adrien sighs, and looks out over the city. For the entirety of break, Marinette is going to be out of the city, and in an entirely different timezone! As he laments how much he already misses her, we cut to Kagami also looking out over the city. The longer she stares out, the quicker she is to come to a realization - Adrien and Chat Noir are the same! Is it possible then that Marinette is actually Ladybug? That would explain a lot, especially as to why she’s been so stressed lately. However, Kagami can’t risk letting anyone knowing this information, lest Hawkmoth figure it out and target friends and loved ones. Furthermore, she’ll have to monitor the situation much more closely when Marinette returns home from China and Ladybug reclaims her earrings. (Think of Me)

[tomfooleryprime]

So I’ve had so many Sarek/Amanda origins stories in my head for years now. Some of them have been fully fleshed out into novel-length fan fictions, but I still have nearly a dozen more ideas. The problem is, I’m pretty sure I lack the stamina and creativity to write ten more fully unique slow burn, 100,000+ word stories. 

Then it occurred to me...why not just make a compendium of one-shots revolving around Amanda telling tall tales about how they met to nosy inquirers? 

Here’s the basic summary:

It All Started When Everyone always has the same question, whether or not they actually ask it. How could a very handsome, very eligible, very Vulcan ambassador have met and married a human school teacher? Luckily, Amanda always has a new story ready and as any good storyteller knows, there’s always an element of truth in every fiction. A collection of how they met one shots.

I’ve actually fully sketched out nine different origins stories that I’m pretty sure are relatively unique. I’d like to make it an even ten and if anyone has any requests or recommendations for a tenth, I’m happy to listen and will gladly give you credit for the idea. The idea is to be able to keep it relatively within the bounds of canon. 

A few things I’m not up for writing about: 

Gender swaps. I don’t have a problem with it, it’s just not my thing and I can’t contrive a non AU way to do it.

Anything remotely relating to werewolves or vampires. Actually, make that any crossover fanfiction. I can’t bring myself to write about Harry Potter high fiving Sarek.

Meeting as children. Sarek is like 40 years older than her, so ewww, unless you can come up with a believable time travel way to make it happen so it’s not something that should be featured on Dateline’s To Catch a Predator.

Anything involving slavery, incest, forced marriage, or non-con.

The current list of one shots and summaries I’m planning are below:

The Swap—Amanda can’t believe her luck when she’s selected to tour the prestigious Vulcan Learning Center with a group of Federation teachers. When a transporter malfunction causes her to switch bodies with a stern Vulcan ambassador, the trip of a lifetime turns into a comedy of errors of the most illogical proportions.

The Accident—While waiting for a shuttle on a bitter winter day, Amanda witnesses a catastrophic traffic accident. The Vulcan man she pulls from the wreckage is dying and with the last of his strength, takes her face in his hands. Amanda is shaken by the experience and when she wakes up the next morning sleeping by his bed in the hospital with no memory of how she got there, she'll come to discover she can’t stay away.

The Time Traveler—During a routine return trip to Earth, Sarek’s ship is caught in an unusual tachyon storm. His escape pod crash lands on Earth but his calls for help go unanswered. When he limps out of the woods days later, he's picked up by a young school teacher in a 1952 Buick Roadmaster on her way to an anti-war protest. The year is 1969 and Earth is hardly the utopia Sarek remembers.

The Closet—She’s supposed to be accepting an award for educator of the year in Ballroom 1 but instead she’s trapped in a closet with a stuffy Vulcan ambassador. He’s supposed to be giving a speech on the evolution of Federation public policy in Ballroom 2 but instead he’s confined in a closet with an anxious human school teacher. Escape will take teamwork, and teamwork requires trust.

The Hostage—The back of the dusty Orion tavern didn’t seem like the most appropriate place to conduct such important negotiations, but Sarek was willing to oblige if it meant an end to piracy in Federation space. When the deal turns sour and he’s taken hostage with a human outlaw who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, they must use their wits to survive.  

The Mirror—When Sarek undergoes an emergency procedure for transporter sickness, he wakes to find the Terran Empire has nearly crushed the Vulcan insurgency and Major Sarek is the last best hope the rebels have against the brutal invasion force led by Admiral Grayson. When a stroke of luck leads to the admiral's capture, Sarek must use all his logic to get her to stop trying to kill him.

The Neighbor—Sarek's experiment to live among humans to fully appreciate their culture is draining him. His exasperating human neighbor sings to her plants, draws on the sidewalk, and twice has nearly burned down the building with her inattentive cooking. When Sarek discovers an injured kitten on his walk home, he discovers felines can make some of the best ambassadors.

The Ice Dancer—While visiting a frozen colony world to negotiate a mining contract with the Aurelians, Sarek admires the colonists’ optimism and rugged spirit in the face of such an extreme climate. One evening he sees the colony’s lone human school teacher skating around a frozen lake and can’t take his eyes off her artistry. Love can spring up from the most barren of places.  

The Storm—As a study abroad chaperone for high school students, Amanda wasn’t exactly looking forward to touring the brutal and inhospitable Vulcan’s Forge. Thanks to a sudden sandstorm and a very tough sehlat, Amanda wakes up in a dark manor with only a mysterious Vulcan ambassador for company.

[obsidiancorner]

Snow White and the Sins of a Werewolf- Chapter 1

ObiYuki Bingo ‘19

Werewolf AU

Word Count: ~2700

Please note: There is mild gore in about two paragraphs involving the death of an animal’s prey. Please, read responsibly. 

Obi snarls as he rips out of the old manor house, door slamming shut behind him as his clawed feet splash through the muck left behind by yesterday’s storm. He needs time away from the slowly decaying home he and Torou saved from abandonment- time away from her nagging him about the curse that plagues every minute of their pathetic, only-now repentant lives. 

A flurry of branches moving forcefully overhead tells him that blighted Abyssinian cat he calls his best friend is following him. Stupid woman never did learn to leave well-enough alone. “This argument is over,” he sneers at the streak of sepia fur flying above him. 

The only chance of keeping pace with him available to her is flying through the trees. Ironic... In their days as humans, he had always been the one to be at home among the dense cover of the canopy foliage. Now, he’s too large for anything but the lowest branches of the sturdiest trees and she gets to enjoy his most beloved freedom.

“It is not. Not until you listen to me,” her seemingly disembodied voice counters. “I know you’re losing hope but we need to do something about this curse before it becomes permanent.”

Since when had she become the voice of reason? 

“You think I’m not painfully aware of that,” Obi roars at the general vicinity of where he had last heard the clacking of branches as he pulls himself to a stop. 

Sable eyes, round with empathy, blink back at him as she sits down in front of him on a branch at his eye level. “I know it hurts, Obi. I’m not happy either.” She inches closer to him, testing the depths of his ire knowing if she pushed too far… If he were to lash out, one swipe of his clawed, inhuman hand would kill her.

The curse has softened her over time- has taught her how to feel again. She, as a cat, is more human now than she ever had been as a human woman. He, on the other hand, has become more animalistic. He relies on little more than instinct. Self preservation is at the top of the list.

Two paws press against the thick black fur of his shoulder. “Obi, you’re beginning to lose yourself to this curse,” she pleads. 

He growls, wrinkling up his muzzle to bare his teeth but she holds his gaze firmly, ignoring his warning. “What’s your problem today? Can’t you just leave me alone for an hour or so?”  

He slows his breathing and quiets himself, an echo of the training he once utilized as the lethal shadow of an assassin he used to be. He hasn’t lost all of himself. He won’t hurt her, not yet anyway... but he can bluff.

Torou tilts her head, pensive and observant. She sits unmoving for an extended minute before breaking his gaze to look at the path ahead as her features melt into sorrow and regret. “I don’t want to be a cat forever.” 

A harsh laugh, bordering on condescending, rips out of him. He hates this. He hates how bitter and angry he has become but he is powerless to stop it. Hope had grown weary and fled from him years ago. Now, they have less than a year to find a way to fix it before they spend the rest of their days imprisoned in a hell more torturous than the fire and brimstone promised to the sinners they once were. 

“More importantly, Obi,” she continues, turning her piercing eyes back on him. “I don’t want to see you lose yourself entirely. I miss you. I want my little brother back.”

Light pierces through the blackness, clarity cutting through the pitch black storm  in his mind. His heart squeezes painfully before softening.  If he were to be honest with himself, he misses her too when he is adrift on the surging sea of base compulsions. Before he can respond in anything resembling affection, a raven crows and a wolf bellows off in the distance. 

The moment is shattered. 

The wispy tendrils of his humanity pull back as the werewolf inside regains control of its rightful body, spurred on by the promise of a real dinner. A wolf or two could feed them well for a few weeks. It is a much better haul than the usual rabbit or bird one of them can scrounge up on a hunt. 

The roar of the wind in his ears carries the whisper of Torou’s despairing sigh but he is already gone, racing toward the promise of a full belly. Behind him, tree branches resume their clatter as she follows 

He reaches an open clearing by himself, Torou’s short legs having been outpaced by his full strides within seconds of his departure. All the better, really. In her softened state, she has a distasteful tendency toward concern when he takes on other predatory animals. That’s stress he doesn’t need when concerned with pesky little details like feeding them both. His mouth waters.

Two wolves circle around a lumpy mass of blankets on the ground as they sniff, their frothing teeth snapping in anticipation of a hearty meal. He knows the feeling. 

If they could smell him, they’d already be defending their dinner.  If they had sensed a presence that would prove an immediate danger to both of them, they’d have fled. The have done neither.  They remain unaware of his intrusion, lost as they are in whatever it is in that pile of cloth.

He tucks himself into the tree line, pulling the abundant shadows against him. He centers his weight, legs drawing him lower to the ground as the muscles coil tight- springs ready to launch into action. True to the killer he was as a human, he waits for his shot. 

After a moment of silent study, one wolf wanders too close to the other.  Both predators face away from him, a circumstance that wouldn’t be problematic for them if he wasn’t there. But they aren’t the apex predator of this forest today. He is. 

In a flurry of movement, his limbs carrying him so much faster than he ever could as a simple man, he is upon them, never giving them the chance to look up. He flings one into a tree several feet away and the snap of bones breaking reverberates through the clearing. With his powerful jaws, he clamps down on the soft underside of the remaining wolf’s neck. He holds it steady six feet off the ground with both hands and waits. 

Slowly, the life drains from the pitiful beast as it suffocates under a crushed throat. A magnificent creature, feared by many, reduced to something as easy to target as the game it usually hunts. The thrashing stops and blood leaks down his jaw in a steady flow that pools on the wet forest floor. 

“Good catch, Obi,” Torou praises. “What’s that,” she asks, nodding toward the pile of blankets.

Obi drops the corpse and moves to the perimeter to check the broken wolf for any sign of life. There’s none. “More dinner, I guess,” he mutters as he piles the wolf carcasses across his broad shoulders. He ambles over to where Torou is sniffing at the mound. Holding the dinner splayed over the top of his back in place with one hand, he reaches down and yanks back the thick sheet of fabric. 

A slender frame in tattered clothing is exposed as a shock of red hair spills across the ground. A rattling breath of a groan escapes the unconscious woman but she gives no other sign of consciousness. 

One of her shoulders is exposed by a missing section of cloth and a gash mars the pale flesh there. A nasty bruise blooms an angry purple at her temple. Lucky for her, the rest of damage appears to just be rips in her clothes.

“Obi,” Torou breathes next to him, awed and heartbroken. Their time as animals really has softened her. 

“Well, that’s definitely not dinner,” he states, flat and distant. “Let’s go.” He turns on the ball of his foot, expecting that to be the final say in the matter, and begins the trek home.

“Obi.”

He groans and turns back. He should have known Torou better than to think she’d let him have the last say. “What, Torou?” He’s exasperated and hungry. Today has taken so much out of what little emotional capacity he has managed to retain. He can’t do this now. He just can’t.

“We can’t leave her.” Torou is firm in her conviction, leaving him no room to argue. But what happens when you corner an animal? They come out fighting. 

And he does just that, digging his heels in and gritting out a sharp “and what do you propose I do with her, huh? Carry her bridal style into the nearest town and pray to gods that don’t exist that the people there will feel charitable enough to not kill me on sight? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

“We take her home with us,” she says, matter-of-fact.

Anger burns through him, hotter than the breeze-less, humid summer air cooking him under his thick coat of fur. “Absolutely not. Where would we keep her? What would we feed her?”

Torou levels a flat look at him. Sounding bored with his lackluster arguments, she counters, "She's a woman, not a pet. We have plenty of spare rooms and if the wolf meat we now have available isn't good enough for her, you can go fetch a rabbit or some peafowl."

"Not happening." He turns his back on his feline companion again. 

“What if she is our only chance to break the curse,” she asks. She's quiet, pensive and hopeless.  

Stupid. He knows better than to present an easy target to someone as lethal as Torou and there it is. The knife in his back. He knows she has always hated being caught up in his curse. It’s his fault she’s stuck as a cat. If anyone deserves to be a human again, it’s Torou. For once in her life, she is the innocent caught in the middle.

But, still.

He can't help but push back against her reasoning. He's trapped and hurting, too, and self-preservation is one hell of a motivator. He prefers damnation over a chance of soul-crushing failure, so Obi scoffs, rolling his eyes to add an emphasis as he rotates at his chest to look at Torou . “Doubtful. Very doubtful.”

"Do you remember what the witch said?" She hasn't budged from the woman's side, determined to make him see reason.

"My name. Many, many times over," he jokes with no humor. He is pointedly ignoring the unconscious woman's body. He is. He’s not watching the shallow but steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. He’s not watching the the way her breath moves her hair almost imperceptibly. 

"Cute. Very cute," she drawls. "I meant what she said when she cursed you… and me by proximity. Not what she said before you found out you had buried yourself too deep in a woman you should have left alone."

"I wonder," he snaps sardonically, wielding his once-favorite enigmatic retort as lethally as the knives he misses so much. 

"She said you needed to let others in. The reason we are cursed is because she loved you and you pushed her away."

Obi is a master at hiding his emotions but his wince at her words is unstoppable. His fault in Torou's inclusion in the curse laid bare in front of him is more painful than any punishment ever dealt to him by former employers.

They were friends when it had happened. They both kept each other an arm's length away but it was miles closer than either had let anyone else get. It was that bond, however frail it had been back then, that had marked her as cursed when the spell was woven. 

They are much closer now but getting closer to each other isn't a condition of breaking the curse. It is Obi, specifically, who needs to learn to let others in, not Torou, who, for all her bristling, seems ready to take that leap. Heaven and stars above know she's been talking about it for a couple years now. 

Perhaps that's why the burden is his and his alone. Perhaps the witch had seen something in Torou that told her Torou would be the one to break the curse easier. Perhaps his friend actually had let him in all those years ago and that was what spared her. 

Or, perhaps it's as simple as he just scorned the wrong woman and Torou was nothing more than the primary perceived threat. 

"Obi," Torou says, lancing through the clouds of long thought hanging dismally over his head. "This is our chance."

She's right; he knows she is and he sighs, resigned to whatever fate may come of this. He walks over to where the woman lies and bends down to get a better look at her. Using one claw, he tucks her hair behind her ear making sure to not scratch her or touch the bruise. 

"Fine. You win," he says as he studies her. She's beautiful. Soft features marking her as just passed the age of majority but likely not yet even twenty. The eye he had uncovered by moving her hair peeks open, revealing brilliant emerald green and she fixates on Torou. 

Obi sucks in a breath, unnoticed by the questionably coherent woman, but Torou purrs and gently rubs her head against the woman’s cheek. She must take it as a sign that they are -well, at least the cat is- friend, not foe because she never looks away from Torou.

 A cooling burst of relief washes over him as the woman slips back into unconsciousness. That at least makes it easier to haul her back to the manor without incident. They’d have a hard time explaining a talking cat and a more-or-less friendly werewolf if she were to wake. 

He adjusts the wolves unceremoniously onto one shoulder before bending to scoop her up. He’s gentle with her. If that bruise on her head goes deeper than skin, too much jostling could hurt her more. When he finally comes to his full height, he takes the time to secure her head against his chest. 

Maybe he hasn’t lost his humanity just yet. But, then again... 

She's impossibly tiny in his arms, like a small child being held by an adult. Her pale skin clashes against the thick, matted black fur on his arms and he is reminded of what a true nightmare he is. It's a reminder he doesn’t need in that moment but there's little to be done for it. 

“I hope you’re happy,” he whispers to the smug looking cat on the ground. He steps over her easily as he makes his way out of the clearing.

"I am, thank you," Torou affirms, needing to lope beside him to keep up as they begin the journey home.  

There's nothing to like about this. No good can possibly come of it except maybe getting Torou off his back for a while... and that’s a big maybe.

The best case scenario is this mystery woman accepts the help and leaves as soon as she's able. Worst case scenario is he becomes a waking nightmare and constant source of fear for her. 

Obi looks skyward, sending a prayer to ‘those gods that don’t exist’ in hopes that she isn't traumatized by his existence. That's not a burden he cares to have on his soul. There are already so many.

"Don't thank me yet," he says, faking a laugh for Torou's benefit. From the look she gives him, she didn’t buy it. "You're the one who is going to be in charge of feeding her."

Torou's responding laugh as she launches herself into the trees turns his blood to ice. It's not cold, per se, but it is definitely conspiratorial.  

"Oh, sweet Obi,” she purrs, voice growing distant as she races ahead. “That's impossible. I’m not the one who still has opposable thumbs." 

Her laughter recedes, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the unearthly stillness that befalls a forest when danger stalks nearby. 

[space-whalesharks]

Multiples of 5 for Gohn, and multiples of 10 for Johnnic (+ Sharky)? :3c

Gohn:

5) Nicknames? Pet names? Any in-jokes? They’re both “Babe”-users, John will occasionally call him “Dear” though it’s usually when he’s giving him a slightly hard time about doing a task. 

10)Who drives? Cooks? Does the handiwork? Cleans? Pays the bills? Handles the public? Grant usually drives, John cooks, they split the housework and bills. 

15) How adventurous are they? With general life stuff, they’re pretty adventurous unless they might go into a situation where their lives are in a high amount of danger, then Grant has to talk John out of it. When it comes to being adventurous in bed, it’s kind of the same thing- John’s absolutely willing to try new things, Grant’s more skeptical about it and John’s the one that has to try to talk him into trying - within reason/keeping Grant’s comfort level front and center so if Grant’s set on saying no, John will relent. 

20) What does their home look like? Their room? There’s almost next to no trace of Grant in their living space outside of photos. It’s all John’s decorating style and most of his things. John tries to get Grant a little more involved, but the latter’s just happy watching John take the reigns with all that. 

25)  How much time do they spend together? Do they share their feelings, or hold things in? Post-Bunker where spending time together is inavoidable, they spend a fair amount of time together, but both acknowledge that alone time is precious so when one of them clearly wants to do something alone “okay, have fun, I’ll be (wherever they go).” Grant’s not used to having people he loves actively in his life so he’s apprehensive about opening up, especially considering who John is and what he’s done to get ‘Confessions’ out of people. John tries to be as open as possible to even things out and imply to Grant it’s okay, but it’s a constant work in progress. 

30)Could they manage a long distance relationship? Absolutely. For them they’re used to being alone and not having anybody, so having to wait to see the other for however long is still worth it because there’s someone who loves them at the end of however many miles are between them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder for them. 

35) Do they bring out the best in each other, or the worst? Do they have a fatal flaw? A little bit of both. Considering Grant’s The Deputy and John’s a Seed, clashing personalities/beliefs is a given, but they actively try to work through it. The thing with that is they also get each other and have enough understanding of the human mind that they try to coach each other to be the best person they can be. The fatal flaw is probably just the polar opposite sides thing, because it’s a difficult thing to work through, no matter how hard they try. It’s why they don’t really count themselves as ‘together’ until well after they’re out of the Bunker. 

40) Any special memories? Do they have a special place they like to go to? When they first get the radio working- even if it goes into pure disaster seconds later. It’s the first time they instantly put their differences aside because it’s the best thing that’s happened to them in months and the other person is there and they know they’re just as relieved, so sharing that is nice. Neither are exactly thrilled it ended with a kiss, but the closeness was nice.  Post-Bunker if they ever argue, one of them goes back to the Bunker to make a point/metaphor to exploit since it’s where they started- platonically or romantically. 

45) Any special dreams or goals they have as a couple? Any heartbreaks? Regrets?  When John finds out that Grant is about as much of a dog person as he can be, once they’re out of the bunker John’s determined to get Grant every single dog he can get. While it wasn’t romantic just yet, when Grant wakes up after Only You comes on the radio and he’s locked in a cage but bloods everywhere, he’s convinced he killed John (spoilers I guess??), so that’s heartbreaking for him because they were making progress in being friends- as well as the ‘Oh God I’m actually alone now’ angle. Again, their primary regret ends up being their first kiss- not because it happened, but just the context of it, where they’re not thrilled that they just kind of jumped each other in the moment  and it was just something to break the tension they had so far and there was nothing emotional about it. 

Johnnic(+ky): 

10)Who drives? Cooks? Does the handiwork? Cleans? Pays the bills? Handles the public? John drives, they both do the housework, well, for most of the relationship there are no bills, but in the no cult AU they both pay them, Nic makes sure of it, considering John straight-up offers to pay for everything so ‘his love’s taken care of.’ In-Universe, Nic handles the public because she doesn’t need John opening his mouth and temptiong people to kill him again. In No-Cult AUs, John’s the one who talks to people the most. When Sharky’s in the mix it’s the same answers, he does the stuff equally- but he never drives. 

20) What does their home look like? Their room? Not much changes at the Ranch except Nic convinces John to ditch the taxidermy. She throws a few plants here and there to even things out and calls it a day. Their room’s simplistic with photos everywhere, and overall has a very cozy look. Add Sharky and it’s mostly the same but add an element of mess and weapons laying around - juuuuuuussssttt out of reach of the kids. He also puts up a few Clutch Nixon posters - that John is constantly taking down and then putting back up in Sharky’s room ‘passive aggressively’, so Sharky can live with that. 

30)  Could they manage a long distance relationship? It would be tough for all of them, but they could probably make it work with constant check-ins via phone/computer/what have you. The neediest out of them is John, and Sharky when he’s involved. 

40)Any special memories? Do they have a special place they like to go to? John and Nic have ‘Their Tree’ up in the hills ‘where it all started’ so they like trekking out to it and having lunch under it, or that’s where they go when one’s ready to put up a white flag if they’re going through a rough patch. When Sharky’s with them, they kind of adopt him into the tree thing, but if not, they also have Sharky’s house that they rebuilt ( / reno-ed in the No Cult AU)  to hang out in. Sharky counts the one party where they invited him to their bed/where his involvement got started as his ‘special memory’ for them too. 

[ask-henry-yugi-tudor]

Just story ideas I have and wrote about a little I guess

.....

Just vote which ones you like xD

#1: Unnamed - unfinished not even 200 words of some sort au where yami is an animal

#2: King Yamir, King of illusions - unfinished Is a story where Yugi got kidnapped from his home and is now traveling back after 50 years with a dragon, a knight and two centaurs and their friend. However once he arrives, he realizes things have changed and he isnt sure if the life with the humans might have been better off, even if they got rid of his wings.

#3 Mermaids  - unfinished An au where Yugi gets himself into trouble by swimming too close to the surface and he ends up getting hit by the blade of a boat propeller. Kaiba ends up taking care of him but pegasus wants to put him on display. Atem meanwhile is furiously searching in every corner of the sea to find Yugi back and will stop at nothing to find him.

#4 Untamed  - unfinished Prince Yugi is in search of a mythical beast in the woods that bears the fruit of life on its antlers which can save his grandfather, and the current king’s life. if he fails however, his evil uncle Aknaheden will assend the throne and plunge the kingdom into destruction. Meanwhile he kidnaps a child, befriends the most sarcastic cook ever and insults a young prodigee mage along the way.

... tbh i think shiirojasmine would love what i have in store for that one but im too afraid to tag anyone in this long post.

#5 Aelves  - unfinished This story was created before King Yamir. It centered around Atem and his family which were orphans that lived on the streets before getting taken in by townspeople. Atem was the apprentice of a blacksmith bullied by a fierce adventerous knight who told him he would never make good swords, Timaël (Timaeus’ counterpart) was a sheperdboy who was afraid of sheep and Heba worked in a bakery. They find out their parents have been killed by Aelves and plan on finding these Aelves only to befriend Yami, Yugi and Timaeus because they saved one that almost drowned in the river while the other two were unnable to swim. 

This was the original idea, but there were too many characters and though i havent really written a good amount on it, this hasbeen revised into number 6

#6 Aelves  - unfinished Atem finds himself in a bind when he befriends a young Aelf when another thinks he is going to be Yugi’s candidate for the wild hunt. The wild hunt involves humans having to run as the Aelves chase them riding deer. And the human has the marry the Aelf that captures them. Also Yugi hits Atem with a frying pan because why not.

#7 The Time we Share -  finished Probably the only fanfic i have ever finished. Resolves about Yami, a social awkward young man that is in love with his introverted neighbor and has no idea how to handle it. A short oneshot. Nobody understands it. I dont even know myself.

#8 Words better left unsaid  - unfinished Another Neighbor Au Where Yami is a serial killer that partakes in weird human sacrifice rituals. Yugi is so dense however he doesnt notice it. Meanwile Yami keeps stalking him around, always knowing an excuse to be in the same place as Yugi. Eventually Yugi just takes him along because reasons he doesnt find suspicious at all. But having an infatuated serial killing stalker is a good thing when the world finds out you are in possession of an ancient artifact made of solid gold and everyone wants to kill you.

#9 Mirror Immage - unfinished (this is an old one) What if there was a life on the other side of the mirror that was the entire opposite of your own yet still looked exactly the same? And what if you fell through? What if your Mirror Immage was right beside you, instead of being a mere reflection? #10 We create this world - unfinished Based on an old fanfiction of mine called Need A Second to Breathe- basically it is a rewrite of this- In where Yami, Atem and the other egyptiantied cast are the incarnated gods of Egypt. Yami is not allowed to enter the Human world but does so anyway, finding Yugi. He uses his godlike powers to make Yugi happy and angers Atem further. However Atem once made the same mistake of falling in love with a human called Heba, and Yugi looking like Heba is not helping in the slightest. Yugi keeps having viseons of Heba, whos ghost has returned from the underworld, however at the terrible price of being possessed by an evil spirit. And yugi has to choose between giving up his body to save Heba, or not doing so, in turn losing Yami.

#11 A Shadow’s cast - unfinished I think I was either very tired or sick writing this one because it doesnt make any sense. Basically Yugi wakes to find a visitor in his home that is trying to hide from an organisation that is trying to hurt hus guest. Needs a desperate rewrite. 

#12 The Cecaelia - unfinished but up for reading Here What do you do when you find a little creature out on the beach being attacked by seagulls? Chuck it back into the ocean, or take care of it? #13 Mob Boss Yugi - unfinished This kind of was based on Shiirojasmine’s 3 gods au and it sort of formed into my own concoction I suppose. An au where Yugi often blacks out and becomes Yami, one of the greatest mob bosses the world has ever seen. Mai and Joey being undercover agents. Yugi gets scared and writes letters to his other self, finding out that he is a mere puppet that is to serve Atem. Atem is being captured by an evil organisation and has year to pay all his depts using Yugi, or he will be killed. A heist takes place at school and Yugi can no longer determine wether he is a high school student or a wanted drugdealer.

 #14 Beast Assylum  - unfinished  A creepy Au where Yugi and Atem have been subjected to Lycanthropy and are being locked away so they cant hurt any innocent people ever again. Instead they are being used to get rid of people society doesnt want and or need.  Atem is a crybaby. Yugi has been planning his escape for a long time now, why has he started to care for the other, this was not supposed to happen! #15 Baby And a Pharo  - unfinished A spoof fanfiction where Yugi solves a puzzle as a baby and somehow it is a portal to the past. The Egyptians think he is son or Ra and Atem takes Yugi under his wing. However Time in Yugis verse moves faster and He has to make the disission wether he wants to stay with Atem forever or not. #16 Two Necromancers - unfinished Two necromancers. A prince and a thief. They both get resurrected to life to stop big threat to the world.What the two necromancers didn't account for was that they were sworn enemies. #17 Darkness beast  - unfinished This one is too long to explain so enjoy the short version Kaiba and Dartz open up a portal to a knight-and-dragon Era and get the kings of the land they opened the portal on at their sides, Dartz tries to provoke a war, Yugi tries to stop him, Atem goes missing and then Yugi has to take care of a shadow like creature, until Dartz decides to put it onto the chessboard and use it as a threath to Kaiba and his alliences. 

#18 Demons - unfinished Demons. When the world discovered that demons could be summoned to do one’s bidding, they didn’t quite understand what that meant. People were naïve and greedy. And it wouldn’t be long before one would summon something that nobody could control. Basically Ludus’s origin story. Needs a good solid rewrite.

#19 Mewtwo Yami  - unfinished A stupid crossover where Yami ends up  being raised by Mewtwo, thinks he is a pokemon, meets Yugi and wants to compete in pokemon battles (bullies Yugi into being his trainer so he can compete) to prove he is the strongest “pokemon” to make Mewtwo proud of him.

#20 The Assylum  - unfinished Another one of these fics. basically what you would expect. Yami has the ability to see monsters that disguise themselves as humans and exterminates them, Yugi thinks he is just a mentally sick, cold blooded killer. Truth is Yami is also a monster.

#21 Chasing You  - unfinished Ai Atem gets the task to find Yugi, so Atem can hold him in his arms, but Ai Atem has his own sights set on Kaiba. Feeling conflicted because he is more than a mere replica. He is better than that real Atem! Yet he wants to know what Atem and Yugi’s relationship was like. Was it love? Is that what he is feeling?

#22 The God Bird Au - unfinished One Day Harpies descended from the skies to terrorize the little village that Yugi lives in. When one sets his sights on Yugi, the youngster ignores him. He has bigger problems than listening to the flirting of an overgrown bird. And who is this snowy owl-creature that sounds so familiar? 

#23 He’s not a retard  - unfinished What is it with me and Yami being a killer? oh dear... Yami is an intelectually impaired, wheelchair-ridden person however he is what goes bump in the night. Yugi is his caretaker and never bargained for any of his shit. Not the part where he saves a plane from getting hijacked, and not the part where they get stuck in a tomb in egypt!

#24 Yami’s Angel  - unfinished I think this was like my first Yugioh Au  Yami finds a small, unconcious Angel and befriends the little guy and takes care of him. Yugi loves strawberries and chaos ensues because Yugi ALWAYS gets lost in public places. Later in the story he finds out Ryou has the same problem. Except he has a little devil. #25 The Wheelchair Au - unfinished  A combination of the two ideas above. Atem, after a suicidal attempt which caused him to lose both his legs and a finger, refuses to undergo any opperation which could make him use prostetic legs in order to walk again. With nobody to care for him, he stays at the hospital. However one night he hearsa small voice, which is Yugi, his guardian angel, and if they fuse, Atem regains his legs. However if they remain fused for longer than 3 hours, Yugi will disappear.

#26 Dancing in Eternal winter Yugi gets stuck on a mountain with a jock who doesnt understand any language Yugi knows. Spirit Animals are there to help. Yugi then realises that Yami is unable to reintigrate into society, because he has been living on his own all this time, surviving, and his spirit Animal would be much too dangerous. No matter how nice Gulo is.

#27 The Levitated Mansion  - unfinished Atem Lives in a wealthy family and loves to look at the stars with his telescope. However one day he sees a levitated mansion, the owner of said mansion has an eye on him. #28 Shapeshifters  - unfinished Yugi is working at an orphanage when he meets an old Ijiraat, a shapeshifter that you forget after seeing him. However the more time Yugi spends with him, the more he keeps remembering. #29 Sphinxson Yugi  - unfinished Atem lives in a village that has deemed him crazy because he swears he sees monsters. Kaiba is a monster hunter and decides to exploit the scared youth. Yugi is a Sphinx that cant wait for his human grandfather to return, but how long has it been? Just a few days, right?

#30 Pokemon  - unfinished Another Pokemon Au. Yugi is an Eevee that has been taken in by the Kaiba brothers, but after a mishap in the trophee room and Evolving into a Vaporeon, What will happen to the young pokemon? #31 We Are Not Alone - unfinished An Alien Refugee gets mistaken by the Egyptian people as a god, and teach him their ways, however another of his kind is on their way to kill him. Can Atem and Yugi fight this evil Alien or not? And Where is Atem’s family?  #32 Safe and Sound - unfinished A comfort/hurt oneshot fic where Yugi scolds Yami for hurting people, even if it is for protecting him. Basically the idea was that this event is what made Yami stop his evil penalty games.

#33 On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red rose between his teeth  - unfinished Yugi is a werewolf that mistakingly kills a sheep of Yami and Ryou’s farm. However Yami and Ryou do not seem to realise who their guest is until Yami finds Yugi’s bloodied clothes on the floor one day as he returns home. thinking th beast that fled out of the window devoured him whole. Yugi tries to keep running, not wanting Yami to know he is a beast, but Yami keeps hunting, dead on bringing the beast down. #34 Bone Datem  - unfinished A schooltrip to Egypt turns into chaos when Yugi gets trapped into a tomb and tries to make his way out. However when he finds a living Mummy that follows him around and wants him to steal the millennium puzzle from the Museum, he finds himself in an even bigger hastle than he bargained for.

#35 Unnamed genderbend Yugi Blindshipping Au  - unfinished Yami and Atem are two gang members that hate each other. However yami is a playboy and gets cursed by a witch. Everytime the sun is down he transforms into a girl. But this girl doesnt remember anything and thinks her name is Yugi. One time, yami does not get home in time and this leads to yugi meeting atem who instantly falls in love with her. Theres little things though like yami being able to see everything yugi does and sometimes controlling her body or mind. At one point when atem tries to kiss him, she punches him bc yami in no way is gonna kiss that bastard xD atem mistakes it as hes gone too far and yugi is just superconfused why she did that xD I already know what i want the end to be but its kind of a sad part on yami's part? Also there is a part where atem finds out yugi is actually yami or something

#36 The Superhero Au  - unfinished Yugi is in a happy relationship with his boyfriend atem but what he doesnt know is that Atem is also the Supervillain Yami. And Atem himself has no control over it whatsoever. The rules of the world is that one who can summon strong monsters are either superheroes or villains. However Yami can only summon a small little Kuroboh, and giving Yugi more trouble than ever. Atem on the other hand claims he has never been able to summon a monster before.

#37 Demon boyfriend Atem  This was supposedly a parody idea where Atem lost his temper way too quick and started yelling in a demonic voice (ind of like Aggretsuko lol) And Yugi wasnt really phased by it at all because at the end of the day he knows atem loves him xD Even if it scares his friends a little.

#38 I wanna steal your heart (and eat your brains)  - unfinished Title was based on a song. Yugi is a zombie and has been dating Atem and chaos ensuess. Kaiba also is a zombie and has been experimenting on himself and discovered some odd perks of being a zombie. (honestlyno plot just shenanigans and lovers quarrels)

[kelyon]

Golden Cuffs 12: The Meal

Rumbelle Dark Castle BDSM AU

Dinner is served.

Read on AO3

Belle read for the rest of the afternoon. Sprawled out on the ground at Rumpelstiltskin’s feet, she let the book take her to a land more magical and adventurous than any she’d ever known. She followed the story of a brave warrior and his talking horse as they went on a great quest to save an empress whose health was fading a the same rate as the very existence of her kingdom. Together, Belle and the warrior travelled through the new land. They met friends and faced dangers and struggled ever onward, always just ahead of the terrible enemy that threatened to make them Nothing.

As gray evening turned into black night, Belle read of the warrior arriving at the ivory tower where the empress held her court. Here, he would give her the gem that would save her life and all of her people! Belle squinted at the page, trying to get just a little more of the story before the endeavor became completely hopeless. But there were no candles lit in Rumpelstiltskin’s tower, no fire for light or warmth.

With a chilled shiver, she admitted defeat. It was too dark to read. Belle looked up at Rumpelstiltskin. Could she ask him for a light? How much longer would he keep spinning?   

He worked steadily, in the fluid motion of a master craftsman. Throughout the day, Belle had stolen looks at him often enough to know how he worked. He fed straw into the spinning wheel’s orifice, seamlessly joining the stalks together to form an endless thread of wound gold on the bobbin. It was a great wheel he worked at, as tall as she was. His hand spun the large wheel lazily, but it hadn’t stopped all day.

Belle shut her book with more force than was strictly needed. The noise jolted Rumpelstiltskin out of the trance his spinning had woven around him. For the first time since Belle had sat down, he began to move. His feet shuffled and his body shifted on the stool.

“Oh,” he said. There were shadows enough that Belle could make out the shape of him. He looked around at the darkened tower. Was he surprised that it was suddenly nighttime?

He snapped his fingers and candles lit all over the room. Belle had half a mind to open the book again and see what the empress had to say to her warrior, but Rumpelstiltskin surprised her by standing up. He got up from the stool and removed the bobbin of gold from the flyer.

Belle looked up at him. “How do you know when to stop?” she asked. “Do you measure out enough gold to make a thousand coins and decide that’s enough for one day?”

“The gold is a day,” he answered quietly. He slid the thread off the bobbin and wound it neatly into a ball. Holding the ball of gold in one hand he opened a tall cupboard that was stacked with crowded shelves, each shelf weighed down by similar balls of thread. “These spools measure time. Sunrise to sunset. I try to make the whole thing in one go without stopping. I shall have to get another cabinet soon.”

Belle gawked at the shelf. There were hundreds of spools in that cupboard. Hundreds of days, sunrise to sunset, that he had spent alone, with nothing to do but endlessly spin.

Rumpelstiltskin shut the cupboard and turned his back to it. “So, dearie!” his voice was bright and purposeful. “You wandered right into the monster’s den. Very foolish!” He waggled his finger at her.

Belle blinked at the abrupt change in his tone. The game was beginning. She shook her hair over her shoulders and played along.  “I’m not afraid.”

“Ah, well you’ve never seen what I do to prisoners who break out of their cells to go for a stroll.” He sauntered into the center of the room, filling the empty floor with his motions like a mummer on the stage.

Crawling on the floor, Belle moved, close enough to watch him but not so close that she took his place on the imaginary stage. After all, she was his audience, even if she was also part of the show. “I didn’t break out of anything, Rumpelstiltskin. The door opened. You never said I had to stay in that cell.”

“If I did would you listen to me?”

She raised one cuffed wrist. “I would have to.”

“Well then wasn’t I clever to put those on you?”

“Oh yes, Rumpelstiltskin,” she grinned up at him. “You are the cleverest of all men.”

He scoffed. “You are a flatterer as well as a flirt. You know I’m not a man.”

“I am not a flatterer. You are clever.”

“But not a man.”

“If you’re not a man, what do you call that?” Still on the floor, Belle crawled onto the stage and knelt so that her face was directly in front of the bulge between his legs. She was upstaging him, but perhaps it wouldn’t matter. In his games she had freedom to speak boldly and act brazenly. “Is this not a manhood? Do you not take me as a man takes a woman?”

She looked up at him, and he was looking down at her, his expression not angry, but not playful either. His voice was almost a whisper as he ordered: “Kiss me, Belle. Right there.”

Belle pressed her mouth to his leather breeches, feeling the bulge grow larger against her lips. His body was warm against her face, a comfort in this cold room. Rumpelstiltskin put his hand on the back of her head and pressed her into him. She waited for the moment when he would free his cock and order her to suck on him, but that moment didn’t come. He just held her close, silently, and ran his fingers through her hair.

Belle was about to ask if she had played the game wrong when her growling stomach broke the silence.

Only then did she remember: She hadn’t had breakfast yet. She hadn’t eaten all day. She had been too involved in her exploration, and then in the book, and then in Rumpelstiltskin. She hadn’t thought of it, but her body had not forgotten what she needed.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled and took a step back from her. “Is that why you’re so mouthy today, my girl? But my cock isn’t really a fit meal.”

Blushing crimson, Belle shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin--”

But he waved her into silence. “Stand up, silly thing. And come with me. I’m feeling rather peckish myself.”

They descended the tower steps and went to the dining room. On the way down, Belle noticed that the door to the angry room was securely shut, though she was sure she had left it ajar in her haste to get away.

In the dining room, Rumpelstiltskin sat at his chair at the head of the table. There was a place setting already laid out, an empty plate and silverware and a cut glass goblet for wine.

“There will be food in the cupboard,” he declared. “Get it out and serve it to me.”

Belle nodded and the cuffs pulled her to the cupboard that usually held the tea tray. This time when she opened the door she found a basket of steaming hot rolls. The smell of fresh bread made her stomach ache. She took the basket and went to Rumpelstiltskin.

“Set that down on the table. And bring the rest. Don’t stop until the cupboard is empty.”

After the rolls was a loaf of brown bread on a cutting board with a knife. She carried that to the table. When she came back to the cupboard she found a tray of flaky, crescent-shaped pastries. Then oat cakes. Then a tray of several different butters and jams and chutneys to spread on all the breads she had just brought out.

She wanted to rest, but the cuffs wouldn’t let her stop. After the breads, the cupboard produced three tureens of soup, one right after the other. They were heavy and awkward to carry over to the table. But she didn’t spill a drop.

Then there was a seafood course: salmon roasted whole, scallops cooked in butter. A barrel of oysters on ice should not have fit inside the wooden cupboard, but somehow one came out. She pulled out all manner of sea creatures, cooked until they were bright red--some small enough to eat by the handful and others large enough to merit their own platter.

Belle felt weak. The smells tantalized her aching stomach. The exertion of carrying so many heavy loads wearied her arms and legs. She tried not to imagine eating any of this fine food, not to assume that she would eat anything at all tonight. This was the Dark One’s meal. He would give her what he wanted her to have.

The fowl ranged from a plate of six braised birds each small enough to perch in her hand, to an enormous roast that was almost too cumbersome to move. A roasted duck, cooked with some fragrant fruit, made her mouth water. She served squab and hens and peacock and swan. The table was half covered now, with food enough for twenty men. Rumpelstiltskin had not begun to eat. He sat at the head of the table with his fingers steepled under his chin. His expression was hungry, but he only looked at Belle.

Course by course, she brought the food from the cupboard to the table. She served him endless trays of meat in juices and sauces and gravies. After she nearly dropped a whole suckling pig, she took a moment to wipe the sweat off her brow.

“You’re not done yet, dearie!” There was an imperious air to his voice, an artificial brightness that made Belle grind her teeth.

“I know,” she muttered.

She took out bowls of vegetables of all kinds, platters of cooked fruits, cakes and pastries beyond counting. One desert was on fire when she opened the cupboard, and remained burning without being consumed while she took it to the table. Then there were the endless casks of wines, meads, beers, brandys, milks and teas to quench his thirst.

The last food that appeared in the cupboard was the tea tray. As had become a custom, she brought the silver tray over to the Dark One and poured tea into the unchipped cup. With three sugars and cream, she presented it to him.

He took a sip and nodded. “It appears that that’s everything.”

Everything for him. Nothing for her.

“Shall I serve you?” She tried to keep her voice steady. “What would you like first?”

“First, I would like you to kiss my boots,” he said.

Belle fell to her knees without reluctance, but grimaced against the leather.

“And stay down there. I can manage this myself.”

It was a relief to be ordered not to show her face to him. She didn’t trust herself to show him what he wanted. She was too weary and too hungry to play anymore.

Belle didn’t kneel, but sat by his feet like a petulant child, her arms crossed over her knees. Would that posture compress her stomach? Could she trick it into feeling full even if she hadn’t eaten anything? She pressed her eyes into her knees, trying to fight the leaking tears.

After a few minutes, something fell onto Belle’s shoulder and bounced onto the floor. She looked at the thing, the small orange cube. A carrot?

“Oh drat, how clumsy of me,” Rumpelstiltskin’s voice came down from above the table in an odd pantomime of vexation.

Wordlessly, Belle picked up the carrot and offered it to him.

“No no no, it’s been on the floor!” He protested grandly, waving his hand. He pretended to have an idea. “But I suppose you could eat it. If you don’t mind the indignity.”

Oh. Oh, of course. Just like always, she would have to humiliate herself in order to eat. It was such a cruel game, but one she was too hungry not to play.

Belle put the carrot in her mouth. It was hot, and sweet, and carroty. Belle enjoyed the taste despite her exasperation. Why couldn’t he tell her the rules before he began to play with her?

“Thank you, Rumpelstiltskin.” She made her voice sweet and kissed his boots.

From above the table, Belle heard him snort.

It wasn’t long before he dropped something else. It was a bite of meat this time, and Belle picked it up and ate without asking.      

“Whatever has overtaken me today?” he acted like he was talking to himself. “I seem to be having some kind of fit!” As he spoke, he flung an entire plateful of food over his shoulder and onto the ground behind him. Belle crawled out to take the hot food in her hands and eat.

His chair turned around while he sat, looking at her with his face unmoving. From the floor, Belle met his gaze, but she kept devouring scraps like a beggar until there was nothing left on the floor.

“You could have just asked me, you know.” His soft voice broke the silence. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, but I’d forgotten… I’d forgotten that you need to eat even when I don’t have use for you.”

Belle wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She tried to think of something to say, some way to tell him how she felt when she didn’t understand herself. “If it is your pleasure to starve me, then I will starve,” she tried. “I thought you wanted me to be miserable.”

“And sometimes I do. But you must tell me what you want and then I will decide whether or not to give it to you.”

She blinked. When had it ever mattered what she wanted? “So… all the food on the table, that’s not just to taunt me and torment me?

“It was to tempt you, my girl. To show you all that I could give you, if only you would ask for it.”

Belle swallowed down the taste of the food she had scraped off the floor.  “Your intentions were subtle.”

His hands bunched into fists, but his eyes did not leave her face. “Why haven’t you asked yet, Belle?”

Was it really so easy? “Rumpelstiltskin, may I have some food?”

“Yes,” he breathed. His eyes slowly closed, then opened. “You may have anything on the table. What would you like?”

Belle still couldn’t believe that she could get something just by asking for it. “The duck smelled wonderful.”

“Will you come back here to me?” The chair turned around and Belle crawled to kneel at his side. He carved off a slice of meat then picked it up and held it in his fingers. “Will you eat from my hand?”

Belle kept her hands on the ground as she took a dainty bite into her mouth. The duck was delicious and tender. She kissed his fingers when she had eaten all of it.

“Good girl,” he said softly. “Now do you want more of that or something different?”

“Different, please. Whatever you care to give me.”

“I will give you good things, Belle. As long as you ask me to.”

Rumpelstiltskin fed her from his hand. The whole meal, she knelt on the ground and he passed food down to her. When she was done with a bite, she would kiss his fingertips and he would caress her face, rub his thumb over her lips. With every morsel, he would let her know how good she was, how obedient.

From her vantage point on the floor, Belle couldn’t tell if he was actually eating anything himself. The game might have worked better if he was, especially if he had companion who was seated at the table with him. That was an image that sparked desire in Belle’s mind: the Dark One hosting an important guest, making deals with kings and wizards--and casually pausing in the middle of a sentence to give a scrap of food to his pet, to her.

How strange that she liked this game, Belle thought as she licked his fingers. He was treating her like a dog again, but it wasn’t humiliating this time. It was an act of affection that he was giving her, and he was allowing her to be affectionate toward him. After all, no one loved anyone the way a dog loved someone giving them food.

Belle almost spat out her cheese at that thought. Did Rumpelstiltskin really want her to love him? No.  No, of course not. But he was not discouraging her affection. He seemed pleased by her enthusiasm, as she kissed his hands and sucked juices off his fingers.

He fed her tastes of nearly everything on the table, every bird and fish, every vegetable and fruit. Bite by bite he fed her until she had to smile and say, “Enough, I’m done!”

“Two more, sweet girl. Two more things I want to put in your mouth.”

By this time, Belle was kneeling between his legs, looking up at him with her chin resting on the seat of his chair.

“Something sweet for you.” He showed her the dollop of light gray cream he had on two fingers. He put the cream in her mouth and kept his fingers inside her while she tasted it, only removing them after she swallowed.

“That’s delicious,” she said, keeping her eyes closed to enjoy the flavors of his skin mixed with surgary cream.

“And also, my dear, something sweet for me.” He scooted his chair up to the table, so that Belle had to back up for a moment before she could lean against him again, lean against the bulge in his now-open breeches. So that was how he wanted her to end her meal.

She nodded to herself. Fair enough.

It was dark under the table, but not the pitch blackness that her cell was on the night he had woken her to teach her how to perform this duty. No cloth draped over the tabletop and Belle could see the by firelight from the hearth. She saw the outline of Rumpelstiltskin’s cock, saw the proud tilt as it raised above his thighs.

She reached out to touch it, and felt the heat of him on her fingers. This was the first time she had held him in her hand. Curious, she traced the length of it with one finger, taking care to touch him with the pad of her fingertip and not the nail. His warning about teeth would surely apply to anything sharp or hard. As she held his cock in one hand, she felt the hardness of him, clothed in a loose skin that she could move back and forth around that hardened core.

She stroked him to the base of it, to the part where his cock met his groin. There was only a slight opening through Rumpelstiltskin’s leather breeches that allowed this part of him to escape. She tried to feel for a binding she might loosen to undress him, even slightly. She wanted to understand Rumpelstiltskin’s body, to know how best to please him--but the darkness and his clothing hindered her exploration.

“I believe I told you to use your mouth, dearie.” His voice came down, condescending.

Defiant, Belle set her hands on either of his leather-clad thighs and opened her mouth wide enough to take half his cock at once. She sucked on him--hard--and was gratified to hear cutlery rattling as he slammed his fist on the table.

His other hand grabbed her by the hair and pulled her mouth away from his cock. He stood up and pulled her off the floor. The pain in Belle’s scalp was excruciating but thrilling.

“You are a wicked girl,” he said, cheerfully. “And that is not a word I use lightly.”

Spittle stuck to her lips as she grinned at him. “I’m not sorry.”

“Nor should you be.” He let go of her hair and sat back down in the chair, pulling it a little away from the table. “But I don’t trust your mouth right now.” He patted his knee. “Come sit, facing me.”

The cuffs pulled her to wrap her hands around the carved spires that adorned the top of his chair. She positioned herself with both legs on either side of his, her robe opened to give him access to all her treasures. She could see his cock a little better now. It bobbed, upright between their bodies, a shadow in the darkness.

Her face was a little above Rumpelstiltskin’s. She looked down at him and saw his eyes,  wide and black with lust. He put one hand behind her back, to keep her steady, and with the other he parted her folds.

His nostrils flared when he touched her. “So!” he exclaimed. “What makes you wet tonight, my slut?”

Belle bit her lower lip but couldn’t stop her smile. “You do, Rumpelstiltskin.”

His fingers kept up their work in her. “Tell me what I did to put you in this state.”

“You fed me like a dog,” she answered. “You made me depend on you--on you, your hands, not your magic--for my basic comforts. You made me need you tonight.”

“And you like that?”

Belle closed her eyes, accepting the truth to herself even as she told it to him: “I do.”

“Well, I like this,” he said as he rubbed her wetness around on his fingers. He put them in his mouth--eyes closed to savor the taste--and Belle felt something clench inside her. Rumpelstiltskin opened his eyes and put his hand on Belle’s breast. “And I like these,” he said. He squeezed her roughly into his palm, then pinched at her nipple until Belle whined with desire.

“Do you want something, little one?”

She nodded.

“Then ask me for it.”

“Please, Rumple--” His fingernail scraped at her nipple and the jolt of pleasure took her words away from her before she could finish the name. Belle gasped and said the next sentence in a one breath: “Rumpelstiltskin, please put your cock in me!”

“If you insist.” He took his hand away from her breast and used it to guide his manhood inside her. Belle lowered herself onto him, wrapping her legs through the space between the arms of the chair.

They faced each other now. Belle had her arms around his neck and he was holding her waist with both hands. By silent agreement, they both took a moment to adjust to the position. His eyes were still lustful, but tinged with caution, concern. He seemed ready to abandon this endeavour if he sensed that she wasn’t up to the challenge.

  Belle nodded, trying to let him know that she was ready for this, that she wanted him and wanted to have him in this manner. It was new, it was only moderately comfortable, but she wasn’t afraid.

“You’ll have to do the thrusting, my sweet. Take your time, go easy if you have a need. I won’t rush you.”

Belle experimented with different ways to settle her body, trying to find the exact configuration that would be comfortable as well as pleasurable. It felt so good even to stay still with him inside her, to let him fill her. But she had to move, even if it felt superfluous.

She started slowly, simply. She pulled herself down as far as she could go without it hurting, and then pushed her body up as far as she could without having him pop out of her. In and out, the familiar rhythm. Being on top of him like this, Belle was able to control how deeply he went in to her, how quickly.

In the firelight, she was able to watch his face. His eyes were so dark she could see her body reflected in them. In his eyes, her flesh wavered like a delicate flame--pale and small and always moving.

Holding on to the chair arms, Belle leaned back to let him get a full look at her. After a moment, she stopped moving to untie her robe and shrug it off her shoulders. She wanted him to see her naked. He didn’t say anything, but did nod his approval.

“Rumpelstiltskin, am I pretty?”

Without a word, he shifted his position so that Belle fell forward onto his body. He caught her upper arms and held her as still. His black eyes slowly looked her over. He leaned in and smelled her hair, her neck, the sweat on her chest.

“You,” he said at last, his voice so deep as to be nearly growling, “are the most ravishing creature I’ve seen in a hundred years.”

Again she felt the clenching between her legs, only now it had his cock to clench onto. He could feel it too. His hands gripped Belle more tightly for a moment, then relaxed.

He used both hands to touch her breasts and in no time at all, he was sucking on her. Belle clenched at the feeling and then again when she looked down and saw his green-gray skin against the soft pink of her flesh, his bright red tongue teasing her dark red nipple.

She cried out at the sight, and when he opened his eyes she cried out again. He looked at her as though she were the entire world. As though he were starving and she the finest meal. As though there was nothing he wanted more than to have her and devour her--consume her in every way imaginable.

The clenchings were coming more frequently and she realized she was coming. He kept his eyes on her while she tried to stay focused on her movements. She wanted to keep his cock in her. It felt so good to come around his cock.

But then he placed one finger on one spot between her legs and Belle was done for.

Her orgasm was loud and almost panicked. She was afraid that she would lose his cock in her frenzy--when that was what had brought her to this state in the first place. His cock and his mouth and his fingers and his eyes.

She screamed and held on to him for all she was worth while the waves of pleasure threatened to carry her away. For his part, he held her close and encouraged her passion with filthy words exclaimed loud enough for her to hear.

By the time she was finished, Belle had jerked herself away from Rumpelstiltskin and his cock and the chair. She was half-leaning, half-lying on the table, panting and throbbing.

Rumpelstiltskin stood up from the chair, his cock still hard in his hand. “Your mouth again, Belle. Quickly!”

She leaned forward to swallow him, tasting her own wetness as she sucked. He came in no time at all and the shock of it made her recoil. She moved her head away but held him in her hand as his seed poured out over her. For the first time, she was able to examine the evidence of his pleasure.

The fluid was dark, but glinted gold in the firelight, like his skin. The contrast of his darkness against her pale flesh was captivating. Rumpelstiltskin stepped away, but Belle kept staring at what he left on her hand.

It was hot on her skin, as warm as his body against hers. It had an odor, but the only word Belle could think of to describe it was “fleshy.” She tasted it, as she had tasted so many things that night, and found it to be not unpleasant. Salty, and fleshy again. Strange, but not terrible.

“Oh, stop that, girl,” Rumpelstiltskin said, exasperated. “You’ve already impressed me.” He produced a handkerchief and took Belle’s hand to wipe away all traces of himself.

Belle said nothing and allowed herself to be cared for. Rumpelstiltskin’s hands were gentle, as he cleaned his pleasure off of her. Standing her up, he picked her robe off the floor and wrapped the blue silk around her shoulders. He brushed her hair back from her face and gave her a soft smile.

“Let me take you back to your cell.” He put his hand on Belle’s waist and lead her. “I wouldn’t want you to wander off and get lost.”

Belle looked down at the floor, at her bare feet walking beside his boots. “Will you lock me in, now that I know I can leave?”

“No,” he said softly. “The castle is your home now, you can go anywhere the cuffs allow.”

“May I come find you again?”

He glanced at her. “Why would you want to?”

She shrugged. “This place is lonely.”

“And you would suffer even my company?”

“It isn’t sufferance, Rumpelstiltskin. I like your company.”

They were quiet as he guided her through the halls of his castle. But it was a comfortable quiet, a companionable silence. The silence of two people who didn’t always need words.

That had been the best part of tonight, Belle decided. That moment of silent agreement, when both of them had trusted the other, when their minds had been as one as their bodies. They were like dancers now. They knew the steps they had to make and they trusted their partner to do their part.

“Belle.” He put his hand on her arm and they both stopped. He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Belle, you don’t… hate me. You really don’t.”

It wasn’t a question, but he sounded so utterly confounded that Belle knew he needed her to answer.

“Hate you?” Belle almost wanted to laugh. But he was serious. He was looking at her as though she were the only star in an endless night. “No, Rumpelstiltskin.” She put her hand over his where he held her other arm. He tensed at her touch. “I’ve never hated you.”

Slowly, he began to nod. It looked as though he were considering new information, trying to understand some arcane mystery. “You should hate me,” he said after a pause. “You still can, if you want to.”

Belle nodded with all the solemnity that statement required. “I’ll keep that in mind, Rumpelstiltskin.”  

He kept his hand on her arm as they walked back to the cell. They stood together in the doorway, and he did not let go of her arm.

“Sounds like the rain stopped,” Belle said for the sake of having something to say. She hoped her bench would be dry enough to sleep on with some comfort.

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin said distantly. For once, his eyes were not on her. They seemed to be looking at something a long way off.

Slowly, his hand trailed down her arm, his fingers lingering over the silk until he caught her hand in his. He brought it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Belle.” Now his eyes locked on hers again.

“Yes,” Belle agreed. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. “Good night, Rumpelstiltskin.”

His voice was no more than a shaky breath as he let go of her hand. “Good night.”