#i came back from work then churned this out lightning speed

[aashiyancha]

Monster Hunts can get weird

*Vivi is the wind Dragon (kinda like Eliza, Ares can converse with the farm dragons too so he knows their names)

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

[sp00kworm]

Evo-23 (Part 2)

Part 2 - Blackberry Eyes

Pairing: Zombie/Infected Monster (Ji-woon) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Gore, Horror, Cannibalism, Graphic Gore and Wound descriptions, Death.

---

PART 1 

---

---

“Ji-woon!” You hollered as you battered at an infected's head with the small axe in your hand. You slashed at the creature before shoving it hard and watching it fall to the floor. In a moment you were on it, smashing it’s skull in with two heavy blows. The Other, your companion, clicked and gurgled behind you, his back meeting your own before he screeched behind the gag, black veins running out from his eyes and down his arms. You’d seen him do this many times now, but the unnatural shift in his muscles and the bulge made you shudder. His fingers flexed before he howled, spit flying from his mouth, dripping down his chin as he flung himself at an infected, throwing it to the floor before he caved in its head with his fists. Another stumbled behind him and the other grabbed it by the neck over his shoulder and pulled, dragging it’s head from its body as the rest of its corpse went flying into the bushes. Ji-woon span back to deal with another as another gun shot fired at the two of you. It would attract even more infected. You were sick of it already. With a growl you beat at another infected before shouting again.

“We need to get to that shooter in the trees!” You hollered.

 The Other gurgled as his reigns flew behind his head and he rushed forwards, his body unnaturally low to the floor like a big cat. You screeched as he outstretched his arms and grappled you, holding you against his body as the veins spread and he sprinted towards the trees, sliding in the dirt, spraying leaves and mud upwards in arcs as he dodged the bullets being fired. With a howl at the hunting perch, Ji-woon flung himself at the trees, claws scrabbling at the bark as he snapped at the other human’s feet, his gag and reigns stopping him from getting a mouthful of the man’s toes.

The man cried out and aimed the hunting rifle down, shooting a round through Ji-woon's shoulder. The bullet slammed through the Other, sending him flying to the floor, but you clung to the ladder tightly, climbing up to the perch before you slammed yourself into the man. A scream sounded as he was sent flying over the edge and towards the floor where Ji-woon was waiting with open arms, foaming at the mouth at the prospect of fresh meat.

“He’s all yours!” You screamed at the Other as he gave a delighted gurgle, his arm flopping at his side from where he took the high calibre round to his shoulder.

“NO, PLEASE!” The man screamed before Ji-woon flexed his hands and popped his temples inwards, smashing bone into his brain.

 You descended the ladder slowly, watching the Other prance around the body, heaving and gurgling with fresh blood and spit dripping down his chest. You sighed and carefully undid the gag and reigns, watching as Ji-woon screeched at the lingering infected, teeth clicking and snapping, before he dug his fingers into the man’s hips and dug his way to the bones he wanted to lick clean. You shimmied back up to the perch to get the gun and bullets, sitting in the little chair with a sigh as you tried to ignore the slick eating noises beneath you. The Other needed to eat just as much as you did. Humans were the best food source for him to be able to protect you, but it didn’t make you feel any less guilty. Even if this man deserved what he was getting for trying to have you torn apart by zombies after you let him have water. You closed your eyes and clutched the rifle as you listened to the Other swat at infected and command them away. With one eye open you dared to look at the Other as he wrenched the femur from the man’s flesh and cracked the middle of it open, peering into the bloody, gooey mess inside of the hard cortical shell. With a gurgle, he pressed his lips to the end and swallowed the syrupy contents gladly. Your stomach churned and you looked away, fighting the retching that threatened to tighten your throat.

 So you sat in the hunters perch quietly, looking through the man’s back pack for anything useful aside from his rifle and bullets. He had a cleaning kit in his bag for the gun and you leafed through the things with a mild amount of confusion. You knew some things but others were beyond you. Hopefully you could learn. You shook the bag again and watched as a small journal fell out along with some old cereal bars and a compass. You pocketed the food at lightning speed before opening the notebook. The first three pages were illegible scrawl beyond the first sentence.

‘I deserve to die for killing him.’

It was repeated over and over again before the dates started to appear and the scrawl became messy writing. Most of it was mild observations about the days he had lived since killing his son. He was infected was written in a lot of the explanation but it didn’t seem to make him feel any better.

 ‘I wish we had let him die of the leukaemia so I didn’t have to put a bullet in his head and then my wife.’

 The reality of everything settled heavily in your stomach as you closed the man’s notebook. You only opened it again to tear out the pages about his gun maintenance. The diagrams were crude but would serve you well later on. You shoved the pages into your bag after folding them tightly. The rest of the journal you put away in his bag before you swallowed your tears and moved to the ladder. Ji-woon was finished with his meal, his belly slightly rounded and very little left of the man beyond pieces of grizzle and empty bones. His head was untouched and you felt bile burn your throat before you took it and a small trowel from your bag. The Other watched wordlessly as you dug a shallow grave for the man’s remains, burying them with his backpack before you dusted the blood away with plenty of dirt and a dip of your hands into the algae ridden fountain. Still, the Other followed you quietly, waiting for you to replace the gag and reigns like you usually did after he’d eaten.

 You sat on the edge of the fountain and sobbed softly. A gurgle drew your attention away from your feet and you peered at the Other crouched by your knees, his sticky hands patting your knees in some semblance of a comforting gesture. If he was human, maybe it would have said that it was going to be okay, but the cold hands only reminded you that you had condemned a man to death for the sake of maybe finding out some truths. It made you feel sick again and you reached for the Other’s hands before realising that the sticky hands were coated in blood and other bodily fluids. You tried not to cringe as Ji-woon reached upwards, his sticky fingers stroking over your cheek, moving along the flesh in a downwards motion towards your chin. His cold fingers tilted your chin upwards so you had to look at his bruised face. His black vein infested cheeks twitched before his lips parted and he smiled wide, exposing his pointed, clot covered teeth.

“Smile.” The Other gurgled as he watched you snort at his ridiculous looking face. It was silly. A mutated superhuman bleeding from his nose, smiling at you like it was some comfort. To a sick part of your brain, it was. Ji-woon wasn’t just one of the Others, he was something more than that. Part of him was still human or fighting to remember how to be.

 “I’ll try.” You whimpered as the Other reached and tugged at your cheeks, pulling the flesh taut before he let it go and patted them awkwardly, his cold fingers twitching against your warm flesh. With a heave and a shuddering sob, you finally found the strength in your knees to stand up. Ji-woon tilted his head to peer up at you, grinding his teeth and drooling as the black veins over his bruised skin receded back up his neck and into his eyes. His chest bowed outwards with a heavy breath, as though he was about to scream, but Ji-woon simply let out a long, shuddering sigh as he pulled his hands away from your skin and reached for the reigns in your hands. Gently, he tugged them free, and reached backwards to fasten the gag and attach the reigns back in place. Drool dripped through the gag, despite him just eating, but you carefully looked at his arm. The bullet wound was long gone, leaving only a dark bruise behind, and his arm was back in perfect working order. He flexed the muscles and twisted his fingers as he listened to the surroundings, his black eyes quivering back and forth, focusing on a million different things at once. He waited, patiently, like a well-trained hound, as you shouldered your backpack again and brushed off the dirt from your bottoms.

 The Other watched quietly as you headed over and grabbed at the leather reigns, tugging them gently before you started back along the path towards where the blackberries were growing.

“I guess we can go and get what we came here for now…” You whispered as Ji-woon followed behind you, gurgling quietly as you both kept a watchful eye out for any lingering infected. The blackberries you wanted grew along the bramble infested outskirts of the former city park, growing up the old iron fences. There was a lot. You pulled out a box from your backpack and smiled at Ji-woon as you plucked on of the berries free and chewed the sweet flesh. It tasted amazing in comparison to the bland, plain food items you could get your hands on normally. So, for a minute, you chewed as many as you could fit into your mouth, giggling as juice dripped over your chin before you pilled at many as you could into the container. With some gelatine you could make jams. You filled the container to the brim before pulling a few more off the brambles for yourself. Ji-woon watched from the edge of the bramble patch, his black eyes following the rivulets of juice as they dripped over your neck.

 “Can you eat human food?” You wondered out loud to the Other.

Ji-woon tilted his head as he moved through the brambles, the thorns catching his skin. The cuts healed as fast as they opened and you swallowed your mouthful as he took hold of your fingers, gurgling behind the gag as he looked at the stained pinky coloured juice over your skin.

“Can you?” You asked again.

Ji-woon rolled his shoulders and shook his head violently, as though he was trying to dislodge the gag and you scowled, remembering that he was probably eyeing up your hand as a food source. You snatched your hand away and clipped the box shut, leaving Ji-woon in the brambles as you scampered back to your bag. The Other gurgled and followed on your heels again.

“I don’t know why I asked. You only want to eat me anyway. After we find out what happened to you, you’ll just eat me and leave the outside of my bones for the crows.”

The Other stopped, holding you in place by refusing to walk on the reigns, his black eyes looking you up and down before he surged forwards and caught you by the arm.

 Ji-woon forgot his own strength, clasping his hand tight enough around your bicep to bruise.

“What?” You asked with a small quiver to your voice, “You can’t even talk to tell me I’m wrong! You’ll devour me just like that man as soon as you get the chance, with or without knowing you were once human!” You screeched, tugging away from his grasp.

Ji-woon’s hairless eyebrows dipped again as he grabbed you by the shoulders this time. He dragged the fingers of one hand down the side of his cheek, tugging at the leather straps of the gag before you dared to reach up and undo it for him. The buckle jingled as you let the gag and reigns fall away, dripping in bloodied spit. The Other clicked his jaw sharply, his teeth snapping together with a harsh grind.

“Look after…until…human.” The Other gurgled before he touched the space over the top of your heart, “F-F-Find.” He chirped before opening his mouth and leaning over in order for you to muzzle him like a dog again. He chewed against the gag as you replaced it, fingers shaking as you struggled to keep yourself together.

“Until we find about what happened. I know buddy.” You whispered before Ji-woon pressed his cold fingers to your chest again and reached upwards, dragging you towards him by the shoulder. He grumbled, spit dripping from his mouth before he blinked more bloody tears down his cheeks and clasped you tightly in a hug.

 The flood gates opened again, and you sobbed into the Other’s shoulder, wailing like a child as you clutched his torn shirt and grasped at his powerful shoulders. Fat tears streaked your cheeks as you sobbed into the bloodied material, listening to the rattling breaths of Ji-woon as he chewed against the gag and gently petted your back and hair, running his fingers over your scalp softly before he cupped the base of your back and squeezed again. The touch was comforting in the loneliest way. You hadn’t been held like this since the whole event started, and now you relished the cold arms around your body as you sniffled and hiccupped into Ji-woon’s embrace.

“Protect.” He promised against the gag with a hiss of spit, and you nodded, not saying a word as you let his cold fingers soothe the worries from your spine.

“One day you might not be able to…” You whispered under your breath before you pulled away from him and smiled gently, “Come on then. Let’s go home, huh?”

Ji-woon nodded slowly, his hands twitching by his sides as he watched you turn away from him, dragging the length of reign behind you. With a click and a gurgle, he followed in your footsteps, his head tilting towards the sides, listening for danger.

 The park was not far from the local hospital and you shuddered as you looked up at the building, the windows smashed and rotten, sun bleached skeletons hanging from the windows and laid on the tarmac. When everything had broken out, it was the first place in chaos, and you pitied the doctors who had been turned into meals for the Others and infected on that day. You remembered the bodies hanging from the window rotting that first year, dripping stinking flesh down onto the tarmac where starving infected licked the surface clean. Even the thought now made your stomach churn. You walked past quickly, with Ji-woon mimicking your speed, following close behind you.

“They used to claim that this place was where the first of your kind came from.” You told the Other, “It was the original test subject who got loose in the hospital and started the whole event on a mass scale. There was some top-secret research place attached apparently.” You spat on the tarmac, “I hope they were all eaten for making this mess.”

 The Other's eyes wandered from the tarmac, looking around at the empty bones before his eyes fixed on the bodies hanging from the windows and I’m the suicide nets between the two large hospital towers. They had died being torn apart and the zombies that had eaten them were long rotten, hanging through the nets in strewn piles of limbs and jelly. Ji-woon peered at the buildings individually before he planted his feet and stopped in his tracks.

“No way. Not today, mister.” You cursed at him as he tugged on the reigns, “We can’t go in there. It’s full of infected!”

Ji-woon reared back again and took hold of the reigns and gag, tugging it insistently, pushing himself closer so you had to look into his eyes. His mouth dripped with spit and blood as he loomed over you, his shoulders twitching. His eyes begged you even if he could not say the words. He wanted to go in there, with or without you.

Your hands shook as you looked at the building and you sighed, reaching for his gag, “One quick look. That’s it!” You insisted as Ji-woon babbled to himself and took your hand in his own, dragging you to the barricaded front doors.

 The doors had been piled with rubbish bins, wooden benches, and heavy dumpsters, preventing a hoard of most of the patients from escaping. You didn’t doubt that most of them had probably rotted away in the hallways, but you had seen even the slimiest rotten bodies still crawl. Ji-woon clicked before he heaved the dumpsters away, black veins crawling up his arms as he pulled. They swam up to his fingers where he clenched his hands and howled, tearing away the two dumpsters and letting them clatter down the steps to the building. In response to the groans both inside and outside, the Other hissed sharply, demanding no help as he dug at the planks boarding the automatic doors shut. The electricity was long gone so once the planks were gone, Ji-woon had to heave the doors open himself. You only watched as he did so and cringed, gagging as the smell from inside the hospital was released. It burned your nose it was so foul. The smell of hundreds of rotting bodies rushed out, and you reached for your scarf to cover your nose before pausing and rummaging in your bag for the filter mask you had. It would be better for cutting out any spores from rotting bodies as well. You found it quickly and pulled it over your head with a grumble before you dared to follow Ji-woon into the festering hospital.  

  The hallways by the doors were littered with bones. Corpses were laid over the remains of others, and you could only assume those were the remains of the infected who had eventually faded from existence too as their brains leaked from their ears and their bodies gave in. Ji-woon lifted a bone to his nose under the reigns, the black strap over his nose wiggling as he sniffed at it and dropped it to the floor again like a used toy. He rummaged through the bodies before tugging at the reigns and gag again. You had forgotten to remove them the first time, and so you carefully pulled them free, letting his mouth free. The Other gurgled, cracking his neck and jaw in his hands before he flexed his fingers and arms in a wave, clenching the muscles tight as the black veins spread over his bruised skin. The muscles twitched as his eyes blinked before they rolled backwards and be bent over backwards to look at you, clicking in a long groan from the back of his throat. His mouth opened in a giant, spit dripping grin, before he snapped back over and rushed forwards, disappearing down the hallways. With a gasp, you rushed after him, listening to the screeching of infected as Ji-woon smashed them against the concrete walls. You had to run quick, following the blood trails down the linoleum floors. With a screech you slipped in the guts of one infected and went flying, tumbling to your knees as you slid through the mess on the floor, staining your hands and knees. The fabric of your combat bottoms was stained a brown tinged red.

 As you fought against the tangle of intestines, you heard the buck fire of a shotgun. The snap of pellets against the wall was followed by the blood curdling scream of Ji-woon. It came from the stairs. You rushed to catch up with him as infected lumbered up from the floors and piled towards the doorway as well. They had no interest in you, covered in zombie blood and guts, and so they cajoled you along in their group as they crawled and hobbled into the opening of the stairs.

“Fuck!” Someone cursed from the stairway as the zombies started to pile together, climbing the stairs slowly. It gave Ji-woon an opportunity to heal enough to launch himself at one of them, screaming as blood dripped from his mouth and eyes. His fingers met the woman’s eye sockets and he pressed her against the wall before shoving his thumbs in as far as they would go. She screamed, her legs kicking out at the Other, and you tried not to watch as Ji-woon leaned over to lick the blood and juice from her cheeks, purring happily as his blackened tongue swiped at the snack. He twisted his thumbs with a violent jerk and pulled out the ruined mess of her eyeballs before popping them into his mouth with a happy purr. The shotgun fired again, and you cried out as Ji-woon’s ear and half of his neck was sent flying against the window behind him.

 The Other screeched, flying backwards into the wall before the only sound he could make was a pathetic whistling noise. The small hoard he had summoned were quick to slow and the remaining survivors seemed to deal with them quickly, smashing open their skulls before they grabbed you out of the mess, kicking and screaming. Ji-woon gurgled, blood bubbling in his open trachea before it flopped back and the cartilage started to heal, his hands flying out to grab at your bottoms as a male and a young girl dragged you in front of the man with the shotgun. They didn’t dare go near the healing Other but they were quick to drag their friend’s corpse away from him to delay his recovery. Ji-woon gargled violently and slammed his fist into the concrete in an attempt to grab at the foot before it slid away from him. He missed and swooned before thudding against the first step, his nose cracking and bleeding, broken, from the impact. The survivors only then dared to tie him up, grappling his arms and legs, hog tying them behind his back before they dragged him up the stairs away from you. You didn’t shout for him, you looked at the floor as you were put before their leader and the gas mask was torn from your face.

 “Now what is someone, alone, doing with an Other on a leash, hm?” He asked as he cocked the shotgun, “You know what they do…so why have you got one as a pet? Couldn’t bare to kill your lover? Pretty fucked up to let it loose on people.”

You didn’t reply, just looked at the floor. You couldn’t afford to tell these people anything.

“Fine. Be that way. We’ll see what the Doctor has to say about an Other listening to a human.” He dismissed you and turned, the shotgun perched on his shoulder. They were all dressed similarly, in old, tattered looking military clothing, and you made sure to make yourself a bit of a dead weight as two of them grabbed hold of you and heaved you to your feet. You followed willingly enough as they chatted quietly among themselves, heading up six floors before they dragged you into the floor and relocked and barricaded the doors behind them. You caught sight of Ji-woon only briefly before they carted him into an examination room, their hands full of heavy dog chains and cuffs. Fear churned in your guts as they dragged you into the side room to the examination room and sat you in a chair. They were quick to cuff you to it, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to escape, and you felt your eyes and throat burn with tears as you looked through the glass and saw Ji-woon, naked, delirious, unhealed and chained to a hospital bed.

 You whispered his name but said nothing else as the Other’s blood dripped down the hospital bed and his neck sealed itself back shut. Still, he was loopy, delirious and upset, throwing his head left and right in an attempt to clear imaginary fog from in front of his eyes. As you watched the Other come around, the door opened quietly behind you, revealing a man in a lab coat, the sleeves rolled up his aging arms revealing puckered scars. The man was tall and thin, almost gaunt, as though his work consumed all of his waking hours. His greying hair was tied back at the back of his neck and a cigarette was perched between his lips. Dark brown eyes looked you over twice, head to toe, before he removed the cigarette from between his lips and blew a great cloud of smoke out over towards you.

“I’ve never heard of an Other listening to a human, never mind a human that takes their pet out to snack on other survivors.” he drawled as he puffed on his cigarette and looked you up and down again.

 “He doesn’t listen to me.” You whispered, “He just uses me.”

“A likely story. My entire group heard you shouting for it. It has a name, which I never thought the Others could remember. Whatever this little thing the two of you have, it’s something I’m interested in looking at.” he confessed as he looked over at the large machinery Ji-woon was being pushed inside, “But first I need him to heal that brain of his fully.”

“What do you really want out of this?” You asked, looking the Doctor in hi dark eyes. You were shocked by the lack of depth. They were cold and uncaring.

The Doctor laughed at you as he reached into his pocket and slammed down a notebook on the table in front of you before he followed it up with a bulging folder. The front was labelled with a ‘top secret’ stamp, but he opened the folder and flicked to a blue coloured tab.

“Does this answer your question?”

 You leaned forwards as best as you could, straining against the ties around your arms to get a good look at the images and writing. There was an image of Ji-woon, not unlike the image on his teacher ID, and then there was a more gruesome one of him pinned to a table, his eyes peeled open with needles piercing the pupil, back into the optic nerve.

“Your little pet was one of the originals.” The Doctor droned from behind you, “He was kept here after his first escape and then escaped again before causing all of the problems. The outbreak in the city was all his fault. This hospital was the breeding ground, and he was the catalyst.”

It was like you had swallowed a heavy rock. Your stomach clenched as you realised just why the zombies had listened to Ji-woon's call. He was their master. Most of the infected in the city were his doing. Even the Others might be his doing. You felt sick. You reached quietly as the Doctor only laughed and stubbed his cigarette out in a full ashtray.

 “Did you think he was innocent? It’s one of the Others now. He’s killed more people than any of them combined.” The Doctor gloated before he leaned over the controls in the corner of the room, looking at the heart monitor they had attached to Ji-woon. The beep was quiet and there were long pauses between them.

“Even the fact his heart works is a miracle.” The Doctor continued, “All because of some little human he couldn’t bring himself to kill.”

“If he’s the original, what do you want with him?” You asked meekly as the Other stirred in the other room. The MRI whirled to life, the magnets letting out a high pitch whine as they span.

“To study him. He might be the cure to the this, and I want my people to be able to live with the knowledge that if they put a foot wrong, they won’t be turned into monsters.” The Doctor droned as he turned to the small control panel and flicked a switch. The magnets hummed and you leaned towards the glass as Ji-woon stirred, his black eyes opening as his wounds finally closed.

 The magnets span and the MRI scanner hummed to life. You held your breath, watching the Other thrash against the dog chains. His shoulder clicked back into place only to be popped back out of its socket as he dragged at his chains, pulling them taught as the scanner started. He was quickly snapped back into place as the outside pully system went tight, keeping his head back and his shoulders pressed to the bed. You gasped as the scan started and Ji-woon let out a horrific howl. It went on for an age, the magnets spinning as his lungs roared until he couldn’t anymore, and he spat blood, whining as his eyes rolled and more blood dripped from his eyes and nose. The chains only went slack when he fell back against the bed, his mouth open as spit dripped from his mouth, mixing with the blood he had splashed all over the bedding from his thrashing. The Doctor tutted at the images and started another, initiating another round of howling from Ji-woon, his arms bulging as black veins swam down his face and shoulders then invaded his arms. The chains were drawn tight again, and you cringed at the unholy howl that left the Other as they scanned his brain again. The third scan had Ji-woon pass out, his nose pouring blood as his eyes rolled back and his teeth chattered in his mouth.

 The Doctor looked at the scans, ignoring his creature in the other room and you in favour of focusing in on one area of Ji-woon’s brain. The brain stem was enlarged at the back, with a strange looking organ attached beneath the main area. It almost looked like a tumour. You wondered if he had once been a patient, given the experimental therapy to help with a disease of some sort.

“Amazing.” The Doctor commented, “So not only has his brain enlarged but there’s a whole new area.”

“It looks like a tumour to me.” You commented bitterly.

“That’s precisely what it is. A tumour growth turned into a new centre of control. The brain stem controls all basic functions down to breathing, but this centre seems to be responsible for the Other’s abilities. Like the ungodly strength and speed, you’ve seen him have. This is the reason.” He sparked his cigarette again and hummed, “Its sad I’ve got to cut it out of him.”

 Your blood ran cold, “You’re going to do what?”

“A live brain surgery. We can’t kill an Other but removing the organ in his brain might do the trick.” The Doctor snorted, “It isn’t human anymore. Why do you think it is? That thing would eat you if I threw you into there right now.” A smile curled his lips upwards at the thought, “In fact, let’s see what he does, hm? A little live experiment never hurt anyone.” he took hold of the back of the wooden chair and tipped you backwards before dragging you to the door, laughing and wheezing as he puffed on the cigarette. His people looked on in confusion before he demanded for the door to the scanning room to be opened.

“Please don’t do this!” You begged as fear churned your guts and hammered at your heart.

“I thought you trusted your little pet?” The Doctor mocked as he slid you inside the room, your back to the thick glass viewing window, “Let’s see how much he repays you!”

You tugged against the bindings to no avail as the door slammed closed behind you and the Doctor’s wheezing laughter bounced down the corridor.

 The room was silent as Ji-woon’s mouth dripped spit and blood back against the hospital bed, his eyes closed and wiggling behind his eyelids. He was alive. His chest moved rhythmically up and down, breathing wheezily as he recovered from the MRI. What it had actually done to the Other, you didn’t know. He was dazed and sleepy, tossing his head with occasional twitches as the veins in his arms pulsed with a black light. It was something you had never seen him do before, and it worried you as you looked at the tied rope and cuffs which bound you to the wooden chair.

“Ji-woon?” You whispered softly as the Other twitched violently against the bed, his shoulders bending as his back and hips bucked forwards.

The Other gurgled again as his head rolled towards you, his ears twitching as black veins burned under his skin. His bruised face was covered with them like lines of tattoos, and they were quickly spreading down his chest. His arms were already covered, and you watched them pulse as Ji-woon tugged on the chains lightly. They were slack. Like a chain reaction, his arms bulged, and his eyes shot open as blood dripped down over his cheeks, painting him like a horror as he let out a screech and pulled the chains as taut as they could go.

 There was a commotion outside before a gravelly laugh sounded and the chains holding Ji-woon dragged against the holes, completely slack. The metal slammed against the MRI scanner as Ji-woon tore himself free and flew towards you. His mouth opened wide, exposing the black insides of his cheeks and his slick black tongue. The Other launched himself at your chair, sending you both flying back against the viewing wall. His mouth dripped spit over your shoulder before his tongue dipped out of his mouth to taste your hot skin. He purred at the taste, gurgling just like the first night you met him. Hungry. Feral. Insane.

“Ji-woon, please, it’s me.” You begged softly as his teeth pressed against your skin. He’d already torn your sleeve away and it laid down at the bottom of your wrist.

The Other gurgled before black goo dripped from his mouth and he heaved over your back, letting the spit, blood and black bile dripped over your shirt.

“J-J-Ji...woon...” He gurgled before he screeched again.

 You flinched, moving to cover your ears, and Ji-woon wrenched himself backwards, clutching his head as he let out a shriek and another howl. You watched in horror from the floor as his back rippled and cracked, the veins spreading like a web over his shoulders and down to the base of his spine. The muscles contorted in painful spirals before he let out a piercing human shout and spasmed violently. He clutched at his hair, fingers tearing scratches into the shaved sides as he tore at the pain.

“Stop it! You’re hurting yourself!” You shouted at him. Ji-woon only flinched away from the noise and collapsed, holding his head against the floor as his back bowed and a great black appendage tore from his shoulder blade. The mucus covered limb spread itself before the pointed tip slammed down against the linoleum, tearing a giant hole, revealing the solid concrete underneath. Another shriek left the Other as he slammed his feet against the floor and scrambled to hold onto something as another black, pointed, mucus covered limb burst from his skin, tearing a wound in his back. It was followed by four more in quick succession, and you tried not to cry as they slammed close to your face.

 Ji-woon clicked like a possessed child, groaning as the limbs lifted him like a spider and slammed against the sides of the room. His face was almost completely black, and you shuddered as chitin plates moved underneath his bruised skin and burst from underneath covering his face like a grotesque, insect like helmet. The slit along the middle left room for his eyes, but there was no recognition as the black limbs clicked along the walls and grabbed you by the rope that tied you to the chair, lifting you close to the Other’s face. The plates shifted and revealed his mouth, open, hungry, and filled with black pointed teeth. They snapped near your face before the Other sniffed you. He reared back slightly with a gurgle and flinched as the MRI whirled to life. A great, wet laugh sounded as the plates of his helmet shifted and clasped over his ears, protecting him from the noise as his black tongue licked at your hot skin, tasting the sweat that drenched you.

 His teeth tore open your shoulder a moment later.

 Agony laced your veins as you looked down as where the Other was suckling on the gouge. He pulled back and you watched your blood drip from his mouth. A great purr sounded as he hoisted you high with one limb dripping blood over the chair and his body as you felt the area burn with unimaginable heat. It would take you an hour to die and then three more to turn. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t wake up as an infected, but as one of the Others. At least then it wouldn’t be such torture living inside your own head. You’d remember nothing, or at least you hoped. You hung from the appendage as Ji-woon peered up at you, licking his fingers as he held you aloft, admiring the bite mark on your shoulder. The Other purred at the taste of your blood until the door slammed open. The helmet pieces snapped back into place, covering his face as the appendages whirled and slammed into the door frame. A shotgun kicked and the pellets sprayed against the hardened tentacles as Ji-woon’s arms grew again, the veins pulsing before his arms turned black completely. Thorns shot out of the skin as he howled and lowered himself, walking on four limbs as the others deflected the gun shots. You were hoisted high above the carnage, woozily swinging back and forth as you bled and the pain around the bite mark seared down to your fingers. As Ji-woon advanced on the people, you felt tears drip from your eyes, down onto his wild hair. He ignored the salty tears as he tore open a woman by her throat, the trachea held fast between his jaws. His maw opened again to tear more meat from her arms, the monstrous tentacles whipping around and piercing the other humans, leaving them with gaping holes, bleeding against the linoleum.

 “Ji-woon. Please.” You wheeze above him as he jumped on another person, tearing open their stomachs before he popped the rib cage open and crunched the bones in his mouth. The tentacles thrashed harder growing as the thorns on his arms became tough scales and his helmet moulded to the back of his head, holding his hair high over his head in a crazy spikey updo. You wept softly as he lowered you down to his eyes, black orbs shining inside the helmet before he opened his jaws, the plates parting, now part of his face, to reveal his black mouth, full of blood clots and bone shards. He clicked before reaching out a cold hand and running it up your thigh. He stopped above your knee and then smiled. Blood dripped from between his pointed teeth and ran down his chin, and he whipped his head back and forth like a dog. His hand came away from your thigh to touch the bite mark. He licked away the blood on his fingers before he touched his cool fingertips to your chest, pressing hard over your heart before he pressed them to his own chest.

“We can’t be together like this!” You sobbed, “I wanted to help you, not become one of your thrall.”

Ji-woon’s eyes blinked away blood, and it dripped over the plates over his face, “Together.” He promised you as he held you away from danger again.

 The Doctor appeared in the hall, and you watched in horror as Ji-woon slammed one sharp tentacle through the man’s stomach, pinning him to the wall with a slam and a great splash of blood. Ji-woon followed his appendage, growling as he met the man against the wall, cracking his black fingers as the ends shifted into points. With a snarl he slammed his hand through the man’s chest, enjoying the blood with a feral madness. He wailed again, the black covering his skin spreading, the plates and scales growing as he let the man fall to the floor. Spit slicked his chin at the thought of the marrow, but with a bite, he was upset. Ji-woon spat the blood and meat after the Doctor’s cries of pain.

“Stupid thing. I’ve been dying from the cancer for three years. My body will only make you ill.” He laughed as he reached into his pocket, pulling free a syringe, “But you might want this.”

You didn’t catch sight of it before a tentacle snatched it from the Doctor. Ji-woon inspected the liquid before the Doctor laughed and snatched something from his lab coat. He slumped forwards, slamming the syringe into Ji-woon’s leg. The serum seemed to have no effect, and Ji-woon swatted him away with a smash of a tentacle, sending him sprawling down the hall, his head twisted grotesquely.

 You sobbed above the Other as your arms burned in agony and your chest went viciously tight. You coughed, tasting blood in your mouth as you were lowered again. Ji-woon twitched violently as he presented you with the vial. You read the side and sniffled again. A lethal injection. The poison had already been ejected from Ji-woon’s body, and the clear fluid leaked down his bare leg before it too was covered with insect like plates.

“Please.” You begged softly.

The Other eyed you, his eyes twitching left and right, before he placed you on the floor and held the needle and syringe in front of your eyes. With one violent movement, he crushed it, and let the millilitres of drug drip from his clawed fingers.

“Together.” he stuttered again as he linked his fingers and took hold of the back of the chair, tugging you along behind him as he lumbered along the hospital corridors, groaning the word ‘together’ repeatedly like a ghost.

 When you woke again, you were laid in your small apartment. You wheezed as you looked up at the ceiling, feeling your limbs burn as you dragged them against the floor, attempting to touch your head. A cold hand grasped yours as you blinked away the red in your eyes. An armour clad Other peered at you with warm black eyes. Blood leaked from his eyes and mouth, between the creases of the plates of the helmet covering his face.

“Ji…woon.” You wheezed as your chest burned. Agony seared at every nerve as you shivered and coughed blood over his armoured thighs. A tentacle swept over your thighs, tucking you back against the mattress before it dragged your blankets over you.

“Together.” Ji-woon wheezed at you with a purr before his sharp teeth snapped and he gave you another bite on your hip. He said it again and bit your arm. The pain was already intense. You didn’t really register the bites as you raised your other hand and touched his head.

“So much for finding yourself, hm? I s-should have known… that you were a monster all along.” You heaved at him as you dragged your hand over his hair and cupped his cheek, “You’re still Ji-woon at least.” You whispered as your chest burned and you gasped and hiccupped violently.

 Ji-woon’s arms went slack as the tentacles around him waved gently. His mouth parted, dripping your own and his blood over the mattress as he leaned over your body.

“Together…Ji-woon a-a-a…” The Other gurgled as he reached for your body and touched your skin. You were cold. Freezing cold. Dead. It was as though it all came rushing back, and the Other wailed as he clutched at your body, looking for the veins that should be weaving over your neck and arms. Nothing moved under your skin. You were not going to turn into one like him. He howled, his tentacles thrashing, lashing blood and mucus over the walls as he desperately touched your face and pressed against your throat. He clicked, softly, louder and then screeched near your ears, calling for an Other who wasn’t there. Violently, he shook your body, crying for you as he cried black and red tears over your body. There was nothing. The Other wailed, throwing himself on top of your corpse as he heard his thrall thunder through the hall.

 Dead.

 He cried over your body again before he tore open his arms, spreading his blood over your lips before he took his teeth to your neck, spitting and bleeding into your mouth and the wounds to try and get you to wake back up. Your chest compressed with a breath before your eyes opened, red rimmed and burning with an orange glint around the pupils. You were not an Other. A gurgle sounded from your throat, and Ji-woon reached to cradle your head as you slumped into him. His blood dripped over the both of you as he stroked your hair like a doll, combing his fingers through the mess. Your eyes drooped shut again and your chest stilled before your body convulsed against him. Ji-woon knew what it was, and you were close to being with him, forever, if only he could get you to eat. He reached for his own leg and gouged his nails against the flesh. It hurt, but he continued, peeling open his calf underneath the plating. Blood and gore stuck under his fingernails as he plucked free a piece of muscle, fat and skin, dangling it in front of your mouth. Your eyes shot open, the veins in your eyes pulsing with black as your lips wrapped around the treat. Ji-woon let you have it, purring as you chewed and swallowed. It was then that he chirped and slid his nail under the back of your skull, straight into your spinal column.

 The scream that tore from your throat made him flinch, but he held you fast as his skin twisted and a black appendage grew from his pointed black nail, weaselling under your vertebrae before it shot upwards into your brain stem and poked the small tumour growing at the back. Ji-woon focused as his form broke off and wrapped around the tumour, stimulating the centre with new black veins, filled with the mutating virus. Your eyes rolled back as the veins webbed over the back of your neck, and Ji-woon waited for your eyes to go black before he purred and leaned forwards, kissing your dead lips. You only came to when his tongue pressed into the back of your mouth, tasting of your combined bloods and the faintest hint of blackberries. Maybe that was thanks to your last meal? You didn’t know but the veins in your neck pulsed and wormed their way down your chest, bucking you forwards, into the kiss with the Other. Your brain throbbed with the taste of food, and you reached up your cold hands to tug at the Other’s hair for a further taste of what would be your forever. Together, forever with the Other.

[asset35-maya]

Hi, uhm... 👉👈 ...I don't know if this is an odd request and if you take requests atm at all, so it's totally fine if you say no to this. I'm pretty...fascinated *coughs* by @elisa897 latest Kinktober piece "Voyeurism". Is there any chance you could write a little something based on this piece? Sincerly, a not-needy-at-all admirer of your writing :P .

VOYEURISM

Based on art by the amazingly talented @elisa897 ; NSFW under the cut

//

Nines was learning. Day by day. Hour to hour. Minute to minute. His sensors kept perceiving and his processors kept ticking. Calculating. Computing. Learning.

He learnt some things from humans, others from androids. Good things and bad things. Emotions and desires. Love… and most recently, lust.

Nines loved learning. Often by observation. The thirst for knowledge was his first form of motivation. And all the reason he needed for continuing to stand and listen… right outside his work partner’s door… when it was absolutely clear that whatever was going on inside… had nothing to do with work.

Gavin said he was going to bed. There had been no activity visible for days in the house they were supposed to be watching. Gavin said he’d take over the stakeout duty from Nines in the morning. Gavin said goodnight.

Nines had no reason to follow him upstairs… other than research purposes… which were very important for any freshly deviant android wishing to integrate into modern society!

He paused at the edge of the sliding door, listening intently. A rustle of fabric told him that Gavin had stripped off his sweatpants. A slight creak told him that Gavin had sat on the bed. A low rumble told him that the bedside drawer had slid open. Then there was a squirt and the click of a small bottle being shut. Followed by a squelch… and a soft moan.

Nines’ artificial breath hitched in his throat. A thousand and one things went through his mind, and arrived at exactly one conclusion.

Gavin was touching himself.

He should go. Turn around and walk back down the stairs. Sit on the chair facing the window, and peer through the crack in the curtains at the suspect’s darkened house.

That was what logic stated.

But as Nines was starting to discover, the very act of being alive often contradicted logic.

Nines stayed frozen outside Gavin’s door.

The human’s breathing grew harsher. He exhaled in short bursts that sped up in time with the sound of flesh on flesh.

Involuntarily, Nines’ thirium pump began to beat faster. A rush of blue blood went to the lower half of his body and pooled in his groin. Then his preconstruction software went into overdrive, and a series of blue outlines appeared in the frame of his vision.

Gavin splayed out regally against the pillows. Gavin sitting on the very edge of the mattress with his legs wide apart. Gavin leaning casually against the headboard with his ankles crossed and his cock in hand. Gavin Gavin Gavin.

Nines steadied himself as his processors churned out a mad set of questions. How big? How small? Cut? Uncut? Veiny shaft? Thick shaft? Shaved or trimmed? Long or short strokes? Deep or shallow thrusts?

How much would fit in my mouth? In my hands? In my ass? Would he kiss me? Would he bite me? Pull my hair then hold my hands while he fucks me?

Nines bit his lip, then threw his head back in a silent scream. An ethical debate raged in his mind while the front of his own trousers became tented. To look or not to look? To scan or not to scan?

Fuck it. If there was an android hell, he was definitely going, so might as well enjoy the ride. He turned on his electromagnetic scanners and looked right through the frosted glass door.

The sight that met him was truly one to behold.

Gavin was in the middle of the bed, one hand twisted in the sheets and the other speeding along his beautiful thick shaft. His back arched and his face contorted in ecstasy. His lips were moving too. He was whispering something… earnestly.

Nines enabled his lip reading software.

“Come on, baby boy, don’t be so stoic. Tell me that feels good. Tell me you feel real.”

Nines’ hand slipped into his pants and curled around his own length.

“You’re so good all the time… So good, so helpful… So kind, so sweet…

I want you to feel good too, baby… Hmm? Tell me that feels gooood… Tell me! You feel amazing on my cock, baby. Ohhh… Your body is gold… pure sex, baby… I want you forever…”

Nines couldn’t stop himself from reaching out with his free hand and sliding the door partially open. Gavin noticed nothing. His eyes were clamped shut and his wrist jerked faster as he approached his climax.

“You sweet thing. You feel so good. Ohhhh… oh! Hhhh… phcking hell… ssss… that feels good! Good… good boy…”

All thoughts left Nines. His eyes glazed over and his mouth hung open. He braced one hand on the wall and jerked himself off like an uncivilised brute rather than the most advanced android ever built.

“Ohh baby how you doing? Tell me you’re feeling fineeee… My slut. My treasure. My angel baby…

Nines!”

The android froze as Gavin swept his arm up and down in one lengthy, decisive stroke and came. Hard.

Thick streams spurted onto the floor and Gavin braced both hands behind him on the bed. He faced the ceiling but his eyes remained tightly shut. His ample chest heaved.

“Phck me...”

Nines tucked himself back into his pants at lightning speed and nearly managed to slide the door shut, when he heard the words repeated. Not in a whisper… but fully audible, clear syllables.

//

@timebird84 I’m always open to requests, especially if they’re as spicy as this one.

[minshookie]

Meetings at midnight.

Pairing | mafia!Taehyung x Reader

Genre | angst, yandere

Summary | “after your failed attempt at escape Taehyung can’t afford to leave you alone anymore.”

!warning! | dark themes, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship ideals, talk of past abuse, sexual tension[18+ please],mental issues(manipulation) and strong language.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words:1k

A/N “ I hope this is something you’ll enjoy, all in all I just hope it isn’t disappointing haha. This is my first piece in a while so I’m a bit rusty, so go easy on me i beg. :)”

Racing quicker than lightning, intrusive thoughts paced your mind. At the moment taking your chances of tumbling from the car seemed sweeter than the kiss he left on your lips this morning. The taste of him, the feel of his softened palm on your inner thigh, the savory tone of his voice. It all made your stomach churn all too well. He softly hums the relaxed jazz tune that's spilling from the car, grabbing fistfuls of your exposed tender thigh. Not caring for the lasting blemishes he's leaving in its wake. Leaving you home alone no longer an option after your futile attempt at escape, the grim punishment after leaving you more dead than alive. You find yourself in his passenger, nearing an unknown fate.

“Of all the things I prepared for you-” he cuts himself short, pausing his assault on your leg to lower the music before resuming his position. “You chose the whorish white skirt I practically hid In the back of the wardrobe.” He chuckles to himself, taking his lip between his teeth. Pleased with his harsh comment he soon feels bad, “ I love you anyway, I can’t keep off of you.” Bringing your limp hand to his lips kissing it tenderly. Going back to kneading your sore inner thigh.

You’d actually begun the tedious search for this skirt he’d gifted to you the moment he informed you of the small meeting he wanted you to attend. Wearing it leaves little to The imagination,displaying bruise after bruise. Red flags dancing in the wind to any individual in possession of common sense. It might be wishful thinking but you gladly agreed to attend in the hopes of being rescued from your own personal damnation...

In the dead of night, he raced through empty streets finally meeting his destination, a place unknown to you. Clearing his throat harshly, you felt his eyes linger on you, refusing to give in, your gaze lingered on the house’s landscape. “When we walk in, don’t speak. I'll speak for you, keep your hand In my pocket, understand?” Coyly you turned, a chill rolling down your back meeting his dark eyes under the low beam of light being given by street lamps. “Understood...fully.” You softly respond.Boyishly he grins, giddily he exits the car coming to your side freeing you. Standing to the side he roughly shuts the door.

Standing in front, taking a hold of your wrist, he plants it in the back pocket of his slacks firmly. Domantly he leads you to the entrance, tugging you along like a wounded puppy. Your heart flutters with excitement at the thought of freedom,silently you pray for your scheme to work.

Unlocking the door he finally leads you in, “your eyes, close them, now .” He places his key away. His demeanor shifts harshly, being accustomed to this tone you wholeheartedly comply to his strange request. Trusting his lead, he takes you through twists and turns up the stairs carefully and through doors of the large home. Finally your feet meet a stop. A door is opened, multiple voices are heard then hushed. “Hyung!” Cheerfully a voice greets him. “Open now.” Shyly you do as told, opening to six men all huddled around, all peering at you, some in disapproval . From their glare alone you know your plan had blown into smoke. “This is Y/N.” He moves slightly, showing you off the best he could.

Truly unable to focus, you shift eye contact with all of them, “are you not going to speak?” The one standing in the middle spoke up, he held a stern facial expression keeping strong eye contact. You could tell his intention was to make you feel small, and it was working all too well. You cowered behind Taehyung, you were obviously out of place, obviously unwanted company. “Ah she’s being a good girl tonight, I told her not to speak.” He turns with a smile, pulling your arm to move you fully into sight. Denying his action you grab harshly into his pant pocket, grasping onto your false security.

Keeping sheepish contact with the rest of his crew, eyeing you like they were hungry animals. Why would he bring you here, why would you dress this way? Sickeningly he’d conditioned you into thinking their primal gaze was all of your fault, what a whorish way you came tonight. “Well I’m Namjoon, this at my left is Jin, Yoongi, Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok.” He pointed around himself, each of them offered some form of greeting.

Tae began to walk again, shuffling close behind him until he sat down, pulling you into his lap as the rest of them sat around the large table. Struggling to pull the sheer fabric of the skirt over your exposed legs your face grew hot as his hand found a home between your thighs. Regretting your wardrobe decision you turn to bury your face in your captors neck. The stare of the men around you spiking your anxieties, before you’d wish to be anywhere but the house of Kim Taehyung. But now you would love to be there sheltered under his chilled silk sheets.

They spoke in mumbles, business and respect, trades and murder. He rubbed his large hand over your shivering back, “you should’ve taken a coat, you’re shaking like a leaf kitten.” He mumbles warmly against your ear. A disapproving sigh is given,his small act of care had been found out. “is she going to distract all of you, Taehyung, take her into the hall and leave her till we’re finished.” Namjoon spoke as if You were some sort of toy to him.

You turned swiftly pleading with your eyes, frankly Namjoon was tired of your presence. He was all tight business. Taking his hand away from your back, he took a breath attempting to rebuttal, “she shouldn’t even be hearing this, any of it.” Yoongi spoke up over him looking up from the table, his glare the harshest.

Two against six, You felt your heart flutter in fright. You strangely felt secure on him, being alone in the hall would feel like torture in this unknown place. You took the fabric of Tae’s coat between my fingers. He might be crazy, but I know he wouldn’t kick you out, he’s crazy about you, and you only.He slowly gets up , your feet hit the floor. “Think about your position hyung.” The youngest of the group whispers his eyes stretching, “Leave I dare you.” Namjoon’s lips puckered at the side as he bit the inside of his cheek, he sat back in his chair motioning towards the door. “You’ll be dead before Monday….you and your little bitch too.” He finishes his threat crossing his arms.

He chuckles lowly before speaking, You’ve heard that laugh before. “The fact that you all think I’d leave is unnerving...seems like you wanted me gone anyway.” His voice is flat and full of annoyance. “Don’t take it that way.” Jimin attempts to cool the situation that’s growing in heat. “I think I’ll go, try to kill me if you want, you’ll be rudely awakened Namjoon….you and your slutty bitch too.” His temper nearing its peak, you could hear it in his tone. “You never trusted me, any of you.” His unstable anger getting the best of him, it never takes much to rile him up.

His sadness transforms to anger in the matter of seconds. After throwing a few more loaded threats he harshly pulls you out of the room, they silently watch. He keeps a death grip on your wrist, knowing better than to speak you struggle to keep up with his angered steps. “This is all your fault.” He grumbles causing you to trip siigthly. Picking up the speed were at the car in record speed, shivering you wait for him to unlock the door. “I stick up for you and now everything’s gone to shit and you have nothing to say.” He pushed you in, without the strength respond you mearly Trimbled in the passenger seat.

He backs out of the driveway, “you’re lucky you’re mine, you’re lucky I love you anyway.” He sighs in aggravation, if this is luck, you’d rather have death.

(Not my photo)

[ragingbookdragon]

Lightning Strikes Across Our Skin

Barry Allen x Lanternsis One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: This got farther away from me than I meant for it too, but oh well! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

He loved her. He loved her more than anything in the entire multiverse. But when she and her brother got around one another—and truth be told, they were never not around each other; something about Blue and Green Lantern rings working best in each other’s range—they caused more trouble than he liked.

Hal was the antagonizer, and she was the instigator. And when they concocted a plan to get someone into trouble or just to piss someone off, they pulled the plan with perfection; the only thing worse than one Jordan barreling headfirst into danger was a second Jordan following behind with shouts of acclamation.

And poor Barry was stuck between the two of them when they did, like he always was—partially because he was the only one who could keep his best friend out of trouble, and the other part because he was the only one who could keep his girlfriend out of trouble too. That and because wherever a Lantern was, a Speedster was sure to be around too.

***

She slapped her hand against Hal’s chest, flipping the villain the middle finger in hope that it would anger them. “I’ll pay you half my stipend from the air base if you hit Weather Wizard with a lightning bolt.”

He snorted, creating another construct wall as a wave of ice came at them. “Isn’t that Barry’s thing, (Y/N)?”

Her eyes followed along the ground, watching as the yellow blur unraveled another tornado, speeding to another one. “He’s…wound up right now.” She turned, facing Weather Wizard. “C’mon pal! We’ve got better things to do than hang out here! And you’ve got a date in Iron Heights!”

The supervillain all but growled, slinging icicles and hail at her and she raised her arm, a blue aegis forming. The ice shattered against it, and she lowered her wrist. “This isn’t going to end like you want it too.”

“What I want isn’t comprehendible to the likes of you, you blue bitch.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “My name’s not blue bitch, pal.” She flew, landing behind Hal and no words needed to be said between the Jordan siblings as a cyan construct of a jet formed around them; Hal in the front and her behind like it’d always been. Their heads were cloaked in flight helmets. She reached up and flicked a button, listening to the engines roar. “It’s Blue Lantern.”

“Damn straight,” Hal asserted, and they both felt the tug as they sunk back in their seats, the construct hitting Mach one almost instantly.

Weather Wizard didn’t even know what hit him, because when it did, they broke the sound barrier, and even Barry skidded to a halt as the sonic boom shook the city around them; he huffed a laugh of disbelief as Hal did a second flyby and (Y/N) flipped him the bird again.

The construct faded and the two siblings split apart; she pointed to the cyclone Barry was heading for. “Green! Go help Flash! I’ve got this!”

He looked at her. “You sure?” when she nodded, he hesitated, but a quick glance towards Barry made him agree and he flew off.

(Y/N) turned back to the supervillain who was picking himself up off the rooftop of a building, grasping the golden scepter. She lowered down and gazed at him. “This can end right here, Mardon.” Gesturing to the stave, she said, “Give me the staff.”

The cyclone blew in the distance, signaling its end and Weather wizard looked at her. “You want the staff?” he raised it and her eyes followed it into the night sky, watching it churn black and cloudy even in the darkness, thunder rumbling wildly. He had a crazed look in his eyes as he bellowed, “Then take it!” he brought the staff down and (Y/N) barely had time to react as multiple bolts of white-hot lightning shot down, cracking against the concrete roof around them.

She raised her hands, trying to form a shield, but a stray bolt of electricity connected to her ring and just like a rod, she was lit up with strikes. A scream stuck in her throat as the lightning died out and she collapsed onto the roof, the blue suit fading from her body as she smoked.

Someone called her name from above, but she fell into darkness with a blur of red being the last thing she saw.

***

The second she came too, she screamed out in pain as her skin cracked across her body, burned and charred. Someone was holding her shoulder, effectively pinning her down, but only causing more pain.

“(Y/N), don’t move.” It was Barry.

She felt tears roll down her burned cheeks. “It hurts.”

He appeared in her vision, still in his suit, but his cowl off, face torn in despair, eyes heavy with concern. “I know, honey,” he implored. “I know it does, but I need you to stay still. Hal’s coming back with Saint Walker as fast as they can.”

His hand was so tight on her shoulder, and she couldn’t help but screech out, “Let go of me!”

Barry pulled from her as if she’d shot him and his face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, honey.”

(Y/N) didn’t really care what he meant to do, all she cared about was the fact that every inch of her body was covered in third degree burns and though most of her nerve ending were probably seared dead, she still felt the pain licking up her body in waves of never-ending, excruciating agony.

She wailed loudly and it took all Barry had in him not to cradle her in his arms. But all he could do was find a clean cloth and soak it in cool water, gently draping it over her forehead.

“I know, honey,” he whispered. “Just hang on.”

“Put me out,” she begged, and he gaped at her. “Please, put me out.” Her hand shot out and she grabbed his wrist. “Please, Barry.”

He could only gaze at the woman he loved and nod, hurrying away and returning with a syringe full of anesthetic. “I love you,” he promised, sticking the needle into her arm and her head lolled back, eyes rolling into her skull.

***

When (Y/N) came to again, nothing hurt, and she blinked blearily, the ceiling of Barry’s bedroom clearing in her vision. She wiggled her fingers and toes, just to be sure they were still there and that she could move them, then she raised her arm into her sight. It was bare of any burns, and she sighed in relief. Saint Walker must’ve been able to regenerate most of her cells. (Y/N) was going to have to thank him when she got back to Odym.

Her eyes trailed from her arm to the window, and she was surprised to see the sun peeking through the curtains. She must’ve been out for hours.

(Y/N) sat up, glancing down at the state of her dress, and surmising that Barry had removed the remnants of her clothes and replaced them with a pair of his boxers and an old t-shirt. Speaking of Barry, she thought, looking around for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed, feet hitting the cold, hardwood floor and she stood up, quietly walking out of the bedroom and into the hallway. No sounds emanated from the bathrooms, or the kitchen and her brows furrowed as she walked into the kitchen, confusion giving way to relief when she saw Barry curled up on the couch, a blanket haphazardly thrown down his waist.

Walking over, she sat down on the edge of the sofa, resting a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking as she murmured, “Barry.” He shifted ever so slightly, and she smiled, leaning down to murmur again, this time in his ear, “Flash.”

He jerked, effectively kissing her forehead with his own and (Y/N) recoiled with a shout of pain, dropping onto the floor as she cradled her head. “Jesus fuck, Barry!”

“(Y/N),” he said, blinking, realization setting in as he scrambled to get the cover off his legs. “(Y/N)!”

Barry slammed into her, arms and legs wrapping around her like he was a monkey, and she could only smile as she wrapped her arms around his middle, holding him close. He buried his face in her shoulder and soon she felt the dampness seep through the fabric and onto her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried against her shoulder, and she reached up, running her fingers through his short blond hair.

“It’s okay, Barry.”

He pulled away, the tears pouring down his cheeks. “I wasn’t fast enough, and you almost died.”

(Y/N) took his face in her hands. “Hey, hey. Look at me.” He did so and she stated, “I engaged Mardon. What happened was on me, not you.” His lips parted, but she was quick to press her hand to them. “Barry, it wasn’t your fault.”

His blue eyes searched hers and he shook his head, evidently not satisfied with it, but he didn’t speak again, simply tucking her head under his chin, strong arms holding her tighter. “I love you,” he breathed against the crown of her head, and she reached up, running her fingers across his jaw.

“I love you, Barry.”

At some point they’d made it back to the bed, Barry only leaving for a few moments to get something for her to eat and drink, and when she’d finished, he’d curled up behind her, her resting back against his chest.

His hand traced patterns in the exposed skin of her arm and he murmured, “You were whimpering when I put you under.”

(Y/N) hummed, not really remembering much of the night; she’d been delirious. “How bad was it?”

The arm around her waist tightened. “Third degree over most of your body.” He sighed heavily against her head. “Saint Walker was exhausted when he was finished healing you.”

“I’ll have to thank him when I see him again.” She craned her neck, catching his eyes. “And I have you to thank for taking care of me while I was down.” (Y/N) reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “Thank you, Barry.”

He stared down at her and firmly said, “Don’t do that again. Okay?”

She smiled. “I won’t.” Brushing her fingers over his skin, her thumb caught his lip and she grinned when she felt the stickiness of Chapstick. She pulled away, snorting at his whine of displeasure, and turned, throwing a leg over his hips as she perched herself in his lap.

“Are you wearing Cherry Chapstick?” his response was cut off as she pressed her lips to his, swiping her tongue over his bottom lip. “Mmm,” she moaned. “You are.”

Barry barely had time to grasp at her hips before she was tipping his head back, kissing him harder. “What—what’s up with—Cherry Chapstick?” he panted between kisses, feeling heat coursing through him as she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, lips moving in a hot streak down his jaw and neck.

“Tastes good,” she replied, sinking her teeth into his neck and Barry gasped, bucking against her. “Your pulse is racing.”

He couldn’t fight the laugh that bubbled from his throat because he knew she’d said that to get a rise from him. “Honey,” he groaned and kissed him again until they were both gasping for breath.

(Y/N) gazed at her handiwork, Barry with his head resting against the headboard, eyes blown and dazed, lips bruised and kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed a pretty red. She swiped her tongue across her lower lip, smirking when Barry’s eyes followed the movement and murmured, “Tastes like cherries.” Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his, holding back to ask, “Think you can slow down long enough?”

Barry grinned and flipped them, pressing her back into the bed. “I think I can manage that, honey.”

[juniorgman187]

Home Alone (Reid Fic)

Summary: For the first time since living with Spencer, Reader is home alone and left to brave the figurative and literal storm on her own.  Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff, One-shot Content Warning: Storm, fear and paranoia, use of a deadly weapon Word Count: 2.8k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

It was a dark and stormy night. 

Too cliche? Let me start over. 

It was the time of the year when the wind was so strong, even the sturdiest tree would blow over. Meanwhile, the rain relentlessly pelted the windowpane, cascading down the glass at a record speed. In the distance, you could hear thunder’s deafening clap and see lightning’s blinding flash preceding it. The only thing that could make this storm worse?

Being home alone in it. 

Spencer, my roommate, was never gone for more than two days at a time. He always arrived at the exact hour when he texted he would be, and he never ever left me home alone before his arrival. Without fail, he would call over a friend to stay with me or if he knew he’d only be gone a few hours, he’d drop me off in a public space, where he knew people would see me. To put it simply, if I was in the apartment, I wasn’t alone, and I had to think it was because of something he would never tell me about. 

Without explicit reasoning for his unwillingness to leave me by my lonesome, I could only conjure up theories and inferences that were never confirmed. My best guess was an accumulated paranoia caused by all of those cases he worked on. I’m betting there’s been more than one instance where a woman was home alone and ended up dead one way or another, and after all that he’d seen, he couldn’t let the same thing happen to me. If for no other reason than he just didn’t want to slave over another case like this and have me be the victim in it. He’d seen it too many times to not learn his lesson. And trust me - Spencer Reid is not a person who needed to be taught something twice. 

But before I lived with him, I was never scared of being home alone. In fact, I might’ve actually preferred to be alone as opposed to being in the company of someone else, but I think my compliance with his precautionary procedures made me weaker. After years of living with Spencer’s routine, I relied on it for my safety. I’d gotten so used to the luxury of having somebody around when he was away that this loneliness was so unfamiliar that it left me uneasy. By now, I’ve associated the presence of another person with the feeling of being safe, and conversely, I now associate being alone with being in danger. 

So if you asked me to sum up how I was currently feeling alone in this storm in one word, I’d choose ‘uncomfortable’, but if you asked me to sum it up in two, my answer would be ‘in danger.’

It wasn’t until the situation presented itself that I realized I’d never been forced to deal with it, so I never knew what to do when it happened. Never before had I needed to call Spencer while he was at work because prior arrangements had always been made in advance, but I hadn’t heard from him since noon when he told me that he was boarding the jet and he’d be home before I came home from work. Was it inappropriate to call him while he was working? I wouldn’t know - I never had to do this before. 

But then again, he called me when he said he was about to board the jet, so if I called him, maybe he was still on the jet and it wouldn’t be bothering him. Unless, they got another case as soon as they landed and it required his immediate attention and the thought of calling to let me know he wouldn’t be home yet completely slipped his mind. I could see that being a possibility too because even if I was totally oblivious about when to call him, I wasn’t blind to the mayhem his job involved. 

With no good reason to pester him with a phone call, I decided against it. After all, I was a big girl. I could be home alone. 

In fact, this was the perfect opportunity to do all the things I couldn’t do while someone was around. Plus, distracting myself was the only way I could ensure that I wouldn’t slip into the same downward spiral of paranoia that led Spencer to enforce this very system.

After my steamy shower, I wandered aimlessly around the apartment in just my towel and nothing else. This was something I hadn’t done since the days when I lived alone. Mainly because I didn’t want to leave so little to the imagination. Honestly, as much as I love Spencer platonically - I’m not blind. He’s obviously a very gorgeous, very single man for God’s sake, so the thought of prancing around in nothing but a rectangle of terry cloth had certainly crossed my mind once or twice, but if anything, wearing more clothing would attract his attention more than wearing less would. That’s just the way he is.

Second on my list of luxuries that came with alone-time was blasting music. This is something I hadn’t done in forever. Out of courtesy, whenever I played music, it would only be through my headphones, so Spencer wouldn’t be bothered by it. Even then, I think sometimes he could hear it faintly in the background while he read or studied his paperwork, but if he noticed, he never said anything. So to relish in my newfound freedom of aloneness, I turned my phone’s volume all the way up and danced ridiculously to it, too. Of course, the music wasn’t loud enough to disturb our neighbors - I wasn’t that insensitive - but it reached new volumes tonight. Louder than it ever had been in this apartment before. 

Somewhere in the middle of my impromptu concert, I heard something like knocking. It was a distinct enough sound to make me pause my music, but not so distinct that I could recognize where it came from. I wondered if it was a noise coming from my song, like when you’re playing music and you think someone called your name, but when you pause your music you realize no one actually did. But this … this was different. It was too real of a sound for me to be imagining it. I could hear it from exactly where I would normally hear knocking, but now that I was alone, and quite frankly - naked - hearing knocking made my stomach churn. 

“Hello?” I dumbly called out from my bedroom doorway into the living room.

This was a horror movie-esque choice, I’m aware, and it was usually made by the docile female only seconds before a murderer appeared and chased her up a flight of stairs that she’d somehow forgotten to properly ascend. But my thinking was if there really was someone knocking outside, they’d answer me, and I’d be able to detect the danger if necessary, but in true horror movie fashion, no one responded. Leaving me to hunt further to access the situation. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but my mind did exactly that. 

You’re about to be murdered. My conscience concluded. Or kidnapped. Or assaulted. Or violated. Or -

Knock! Knock!

My heart accelerated at a pace my lungs couldn’t support, not without heavy breathing. It was here where all my logic and rationality flew out the window because for some reason, I started tip-toeing to the door as if not making any sounds on the floorboards would somehow ensure my safety.

I didn’t know what I was trying to prove by finally grasping the doorknob with the intentions of turning it open, but it certainly didn’t prove I was a “big girl” or that I was any less scared because as quickly as I had touched the knob, I just as quickly recoiled my hand away from it and ran to my purse to find my phone. 

Matching the speed of lightning, I dialed Spencer and sighed a quick sigh of relief when I heard the line ringing. That was a good sign. 

“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up,” I pleaded to myself as if God would hear it and grant me my prayer. “Please pick up, please pick up.” 

“The number you are trying to reach (702) -“

“Fuck!” 

That’s never happened before either. He never sent me to voicemail, not even when he was away and asleep. He’d always answer my call. This wasn’t a good sign. 

The knocking went away minutes ago, but my fear hadn’t. I couldn’t tell you what exactly was so scary to me, but all I knew is that I would feel a whole lot better, and honestly - a whole lot safer - when Spencer came home. 

“Come on, Spencer. Where are you?” I tried his cell phone probably three more times after the first call, my hope decreasing with each dial tone.

There was nothing I could do but wait. After all those missed calls, he’d have to call me back sometime, but I just hoped he’d be home before it’d get to that. 

My trepidation clearly clouded my judgement because rather than putting on clothes first and having my priorities in order, I was already reaching for the spare gun I knew Spencer kept in his bedside drawer. He didn’t know I knew it was there, but I did. And I planned to use it tonight if it came down to it. 

One hand held the top of my towel up from falling while the other shakily clenched a gun. 

Before this, I’d never actually held one before, but then again, there’s a lot of ‘firsts’ I was experiencing tonight. 

I didn’t expect it to be so heavy - and I don’t mean the actual size, but the weight of the object itself. This thing could take so many people’s lives, and I was holding it. It was a nauseating feeling, but my rapt fascination wouldn’t let me put it down. I had never noticed how intricate the contraption was. There were so many little details, so many little parts that needed to work harmoniously in order for it to carry out its function. I was only made more aware of just how many parts there were inside the gun because of my shaky hand unconsciously rattling the magazine inside. 

The clip sounded nearly empty. Jesus, Spencer, how many times have you had to use this thing?

My thoughts were cut short when the sound at the door returned. It didn’t sound like knocking, but something much worse. 

Someone was coming in. 

I wasn’t yet prepared for the worst so rather than confronting it outside, I stayed hidden within Spencer’s room ready to shoot when they finally came into my line of sight. 

If you were an intruder, I don’t think you’d be very intimidated at the sight of me, but for some reason, I still felt rather powerful. My hair was like strings draping over my shoulders since it was still damp, and the one hand I was using to hold the gun (the other being used as a towel holder) was shaking violently. I could barely carry this thing with one hand, and yet I still couldn’t put it down. 

I needed protection. 

I needed Spencer. 

I could hear footsteps slowly trailing in, and it seemed like the slower they walked, the faster my heart beat. 

“Who’s there?” My voice was loud, but it wasn’t nearly as threatening as it should’ve been to scare somebody. The dominance in my tone was clearly stolen by my fear. 

I saw a figure loom into the space between Spencer’s bedroom door frame and the living room, which was adequate distance for shooting, so with only partial hesitation, I nearly pulled the trigger.

“Shit!” The figure ducked their head while their hands raised into the air to suggest harmlessness - something a suspect would do to surrender. 

“(Y/n), put down the gun! Put down the gun! It’s me! It’s Spencer!” 

I could recognize his voice, but the storm’s darkness hid his face from me so I was still skeptical. It wasn’t until he swiftly came into the light to take the gun out of my hands that the small flicker of city lights illuminated his face. 

Spencer!

As soon as I could make out his perfect nose and his amber eyes, I melted into his already open embrace. I entered his arms wordlessly and shut my eyes so solidly with such relief that a tear escaped. 

“Hey, hey … you’re okay. I’m here. You’re okay, my dear.” He took my face in his hands to read me, and I think he must’ve seen my tears because his voice never travelled above a whisper. Maybe he thought if he spoke even a decibel louder, I’d shatter. He let my head travel back to his sternum, the warmest spot on his body, and again, he embraced me in a hug. His hands hovered in the air for a moment while he tried to find an appropriate place to put them - like I said before, he’d never seen me in just a towel, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he threw his good manners out the window and hugged me just as tightly as he would’ve had there been more covering me than just terry cloth. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’m right here.”

He held me for longer than normal, but he knew the circumstances were different here. Maybe that’s why he kept a single arm around me even when he travelled to his dresser where he collected an old t-shirt that he would go on to slide over me. I let the towel drop when the t-shirt was fully on, creating a sort of magic trick, where he never saw my naked body. But that wasn’t exactly true. 

I didn’t need to be without clothes to be naked. I was naked right now, even in his shirt - completely and totally vulnerable. He could see the plain fear that held me prisoner tonight, and so he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. 

“Do you wanna sleep in my room tonight?” 

I nodded into his chest without a spoken word. He knew I would still be scared, and in some way, I think his doting treatment was how he believed he could make it up to me. He even helped me into his sheets, taking the time to tuck me in like a child. I realized later though, he might’ve only tucked me in so the movement of the bedsheets would mask the sound of him carefully sliding his gun back into its rightful spot in his drawer. 

“Where were you?” I finally croaked, neglecting to add, ‘I needed you.’ It would’ve been redundant. He knew I needed him.

“The storm knocked over a telephone pole just a mile away. I was almost home when it happened.” 

Somehow hearing that he was so close only made me more frustrated. Here I was, thinking I was on the verge of death when Spencer was literally just a few blocks down the street. 

“You scared me when you didn’t answer my calls.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t see them until I was at the front door. I was too busy focusing on getting home to you as soon as possible while still driving safely through the storm.” 

With my eyes already shut, I could imagine him, his hands at ten and two on the wheel, his eyes straightward with nothing else in sight but the road ahead of him, his motivation to get home to the person who needed him most being what propelled that car forward - not even the gas. 

“I love you, you know that?” He whispered into my hair, where his fingers were already laced. 

“I know. And I love you, too.” I honestly replied. That’s why I need you here with me. It’s the only way I feel safe. 

I would’ve gone to sleep right then and there, but I was stuck on the fact that he was just a mile away this entire time. Maybe that was the point, though. 

He was never too far away. He was always right there, in one way or another. 

“In the morning, I have to leave at 7, so I’ll drop you off at the library.” What’d I tell you? He always made arrangements for me so I’d never ever be left alone. “So in the car ride there, you can tell me why you were about to shoot me.” 

After his statement was the first time I laughed that night. I nudged him to show my playful disapproval of his jest. 

“I thought you were an intruder!” My voice finally regained its volume. “You scared the shit out of me when you walked in.” 

Our laughter faded to silence and it seemed like that would conclude the night’s conversations, but I could still hear the gears in Spencer’s brain turning. 

“Hey, wait a minute - how did you even know I had a spare gun in my drawer?” 

To his question, I pretended to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to answer, exaggerating my snores to emphasize my blatant sarcasm. 

“Answer me!” He persisted; I could hear him smiling.

But I only smirked against his chest and coquettishly cooed, “Goodnight, Spencer.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

taglist: @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny

comment/message me to be added to taglist!

[barclaysangel]

"Smells Like Teen Spirit"; Chapter 11: I Found it Hard, Was Hard to Find

New chapter is up!

Another 4.6Ker, Jesus, I still can't believe how much I've been writing since I have little to no energy for everything.

But I really love how this came out and I'm just so excited for all the twists and turns I have planned!

Also, we are officially halfway through the story! Can you believe it?!

Please comment what you think of this story so far and what you'd like to see, getting comments help fuel my motivation!

Enjoy :)

“What the fuck? What the fuck? What the actual fuck?!”

“How is this even possible?! Like, this doesn’t make sense!”

“There’s no way this is real—is this real?!”

Too many voices were overlapping one another with too many statements and questions, in panic and disbelief and also absolute shock.

The only one who was still silent was Junior.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. Off the boy that looked so much like he did when he was alive. It was like staring into a mirror. His stomach churned and he swallowed thickly to avoid losing the warm beverage he just finished drinking.

The doll swayed on his feet and had to sit down on the ground, afraid he might actually get sick or faint if he stayed standing up. Finally, he recovered from being speechless and spoke up.

“Can you all shut up?!” Junior yelled loudly and the others immediately stopped speaking. “Please, I-I need like…a minute to process what the fuck I’m seeing. So just…shut up, please.”

Their wide eyes that were filled with surprise and incredulousness, now looked concerned. “Junior, are you okay?” Lexy was the first to ask, making the doll wonder if it was possible for him to turn as pale as a ghost despite being made of plastic.

Hell, it felt like he had just seen a ghost.

“I-I really don’t know right now.” Junior could only say that, one hand on his chest to calm his pounding heart. He couldn’t even make a sarcastic comment or joke to lighten the mood.

Everything felt too real, too real for his mind to even comprehend what was happening.

“But I don’t…I don’t understand…” Jake muttered, finally tearing his eyes away from the tv screen to look at the doll, “were you in a movie and forgot to tell us about it?”

Junior managed to regain enough control to respond sarcastically. “Yes, I filmed a whole movie last year and kept it under wraps this whole time as a surprise gift for all of you.” He then smacked the hand that wasn’t on his chest right on the floor. “Of course I wasn’t in a fucking movie! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

He truly wasn’t an actor. He knew he was a decent enough liar, but not an actor.

Besides, if singing in public or even in front of his friends were terrifying to him, acting in front of a camera would give him so much stage fright he might literally have a heart attack and die again.

“Okay, why don’t we all just calm down for a bit and think over this?” Devon, always the one to bring everyone back down to earth, said and decided to take a seat next to the doll.

Or maybe his own legs were shaking too and he needed to sit before he collapsed.

“That’s it, I’m gonna look him up.” Lexy told them, pulling out her phone from her pocket in lightning speed and began typing away.

“Heh, great…stalking a guy who looks somewhat like me. Fun.” Junior muttered in a joking way, but he still sounded dazed and completely out of it.

“Somewhat like you? He looks exactly like you!” Jake exclaimed, pointing to the screen and then dropping his hand.

“That’s not true!” Junior argued. “I had a better nose than he does!”

“No offense, Jun, but he does look almost identical to how you used to look.” Devon added in, staring at the screen again. “I know that some people have doppelgänger’s out there, but this is just…insane.”

“His name’s Teo Briones.” Lexy said suddenly and didn’t even look up from her phone, obviously focused and still scrolling. “He’s fourteen, just like Junior.”

Everyone went silent.

“Junior…do you think that maybe…you have an identical twin brother?” Jake slowly asked him.

“Don’t you dare say that!” Junior snapped and pointed a finger at his cousin. “Don’t you even dare! I do not have an identical twin brother, or any kind of twin brother!”

“I mean, twins do run in your family,” Devon started in a hesitant tone, “it could be a a separated at birth situation…or like The Parent Trap.”

“No! Stop, just, stop! I don’t have a twin brother, that dude is not my twin brother, shut up!” Junior was getting defensive and angry he was sure that he was an only child.

But…what if he did have a twin?

What if his father separated them when they were newborns?

No, his mother would’ve told him…right?

Fuck, Junior didn’t know anything anymore.

Would his parents even tell him if he had a twin that they gave away for some reason?

Was his whole life some lie?

A huge lie created by his father, his mother was kind and she wouldn’t have wanted to give away one baby and kept the other, for a reason that he didn’t understand?

Was that what was going on?

Did he just accidentally find a twin brother he never knew he had?

Finally, Lexy spoke again. “Teo was born in January and Junior in September, so they’re not long lost twins.”

“OH THANK GOD!” Junior screamed out loud in total relief, three pairs of eyes now on him from his sudden volume. “Sorry, that was kind of loud. But that identical twin talk literally had me so scared for a hot minute, we don’t need anymore twins in this fucking family.”

“So you were concerned that you might actually have a twin?” Jake questioned with an eyebrow raised.

“Only because you started putting that idea in my head, I wasn’t even thinking about it to begin with.” Junior just shook his head. “You know what, forget it, because we’re not twins anyway since we were born eight months apart.”

“You guys still look so much alike. Like…it’s insane how identical you two look.” Devon said as Jake sat down on the floor beside him.

“I don’t think we look that alike.” Junior begged to differ, despite feeling like he was looking at a mirror so he tried to avoid staring at the tv screen.

Lexy raised an eyebrow at him, finally looking up, and sat down in front of the doll. “Really? Not that alike? You kidding me?” She turned her phone around to show a picture of Teo from his Instagram account. Of course she already managed to find his Instagram, Lexy was skilled like that.

Junior really didn’t want to admit it…but fuck, Teo looked so much like Junior did when he was alive. Same shaped eyes, brown hair-except it was parted more in front of his face rather than back like Junior’s-, everything.

Another exception was in the picture Lexy showed him, was that Teo was wearing a pair of circular glasses.

He looked like a fucking nerd. Thank god Junior had good eyesight.

“Okay, he looks almost exactly like me!” The doll gave up and admitted, throwing his hands up in surrender as Devon and Jake took turns looking at the photo on Lexy’s phone.

The blonde looked at the photo for a moment before looking at Junior again. “Wait…maybe this is a sign.”

He tilted his head to the side slightly and raised a painted eyebrow. “Since when do you believe in signs, Lex?”

She rolled her eyes and waved a hand nonchalantly. “Since I found out that my best friend had a doppelgänger who’s an actor. But this has to be a sign, you get it, right?”

Junior blinked at her. “…I swear to god, if you say that we might actually be related, I’m walking right out that door and never looking back.”

Lexy gave him a deadpanned expression before sighing and looking at Devon. “Dev, can you please lend Junior one of your brain cells?”

The doll gasped and gave her an offended look. “Jesus, okay. My brain is still computing with this new knowledge, give me a fuckin’ break.”

“It’s okay, Jun,” Devon told him, “but remember your ‘list of requirements’ on the person you want to possess?” He asked, using air quotes with his fingers.

It slowly began to dawn on Junior. “Oh…”

“Someone who looks close to how you used to look like?” Devon reminded him.

“Check!” Lexy exclaimed.

“Someone with brown hair and brown eyes?” Jake chipped in.

“Check!” She said again.

“Someone around your age?” Devon added in again.

“Check!”

“Someone who is super attractive?” Jake emphasized on the last two words in a dramatic tone.

“And check!” Lexy clapped her hands together and smirked at the doll. “He’s a perfect match, Juni.”

Shit, they all did have a point.

Teo truly checked off all the boxes on his little list. Junior had been picky about who to possess, but he certainly didn’t need to be picky anymore.

How could he be picky, when the perfect body was right there?

“Alright, you all make some really good points,” Junior began to say, “but we know nothing about this guy. Except that he’s an actor and is fourteen like I was. I mean, we don’t even know where he lives.”

“He lives in Los Angeles, California.” Lexy responded quickly and waved her phone around as if to say that she got her information from googling it just now.

“Great, Los Angeles, California. Do you know his exact address?” Junior asked her.

She paused, smacking her lips together before shaking her head. “No.”

“Then what? We take a trip to a completely different state from New Jersey, literally across the U.S. map, and knock on very single door in LA before finding the right one?”

Lexy gave him a fake smile. “You know, as much as I find your sarcasm hilarious at times, right now it’s definitely not appreciative.”

Junior shrugged his shoulders and moved his hands upward. “I’m just being realistic, Lexy!”

“No, you’re being pessimistic!” She argued back, shaking her head.

“Okay, chill out.” Devon interrupted them, knowing that an actual argument might ensue between the ex-couples. “Junior is being pessimistic, totally. But he is right. We don’t know his address or where to even begin finding him.”

Jake nodded and decided to speak up as well. “Yeah, and LA is huge. Even if we somehow did manage to convince our guardians to let us go to another state, there is a tiny chance that we’ll be able to find Teo anyway.”

Lexy huffed and scowled, obviously not wanting to give up. “I’ll figure something out.” She insisted, standing up and walking out of the living room to the kitchen.

Junior let out a loud and long sigh, rubbing his forehead with one hand in a futile attempt to alleviate the pressure. “Can someone please turn the tv off, it’s making me nauseous.”

Devon complied, getting up to grab the remote and turned it off while Jake nudged the doll’s shoulder with the back of his hand lightly. “Are you already getting sick of your own face?” He joked in an attempt to probably make Junior feel better and he could make some quip back.

It didn’t work, the doll still didn’t move his hand and had no reaction to the comment. Jake realized it and immediately grew serious. “You okay, Jun-Jun?”

Junior shrugged again. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, “it’s…a lot to process. I know I should be, like…happy that I found someone that looks almost exactly as I did when I was alive but…it’s too much right now. It feels almost…overwhelming. I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, Junior. I understand why you feel so overwhelmed.” Devon said as he sat down beside Junior again. “This whole thing is…weird. For sure. And you’re possessing a doll, but this is still something strange for us, so that’s saying something.” He chuckled a little and it earned just a ghost of a smile from the doll.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Junior said after a moment, still rubbing his forehead but looked up at his best friend and cousin, “but it honestly just feels like something is taunting me. Like, okay, someone who looks so much like me is out there. But I have a better chance at getting struck by lightning than to meet an actor who could easily play me in a movie.”

“It’d be a really cool movie though.” Devon said, giving his best friend a playful smile.

The doll raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes. A movie about a cross-country star who hated running but was willing to do anything for his father just to make him proud, has his entire life fall apart, listens to a possessed murderous doll because he was lonely, kills his own father, and then dies by said possessed murderous doll. That deserves an academy award.”

Jake snorted loudly at the incredibly accurate description of Junior’s life. “We should really pitch that idea, it sounds really good.”

“God, you two have such dark humors.” Devon groaned, now looking like he was the one about to have a migraine, and the cousins laughed.

Well, Junior was starting to feel better. Making dark jokes with Jake certainly always helped, but it was nice having his friends by his side.

Lexy suddenly came back into the room, phone clutched tightly in her hand. “Junior, when’s the last time you talked to Tiffany?”

The doll squinted, definitely not expecting that question. “Uhhh, yesterday. During dinner. Why?”

“And she didn’t, I don’t know…say something to you that was pretty important that you should’ve mentioned to us?”

“Not…really? Lexy, what are you even talking about right now?” He asked her in confusion.

What Lexy said next was spoken slowly while turning her phone to face him. “It seems that Tiffany might’ve forgotten to mention to you that she is going to be filming a movie…in Hackensack…with Teo Briones.”

Junior froze, his blue eyes wide as he quickly read the bit of the article that was showing on his friend’s phone. Sure enough, ‘Jennifer Tilly’ was filming a new movie right in their town, with his identical twin that definitely wasn’t his twin.

What in the actual fuck?

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. No one did. Finally, Junior started laughing.

Hysterical, almost insane giggles were spilling from his lips and now they were all staring at him in concern. If Junior thought about it too much, he would’ve noticed that his new laugh sounded quite a bit like Tiffany’s.

“J-Jake, can I borrow your phone for a minute?” He asked through his laughter, vibrating with a mixture of disbelief in anger. Jake was quick to give him his phone, probably in an attempt to not piss him off, and the doll walked away into the kitchen with it.

Junior dialed the number he had already had memorized after so long, putting the phone to his ear and hearing it ring before she finally answered.

“Jun-Jun! Hi!” Tiffany’s high-pitched voice said in excitement and it usually would bring a natural smile to Junior’s face, but he was on a mission.

“Hey, Tiff, how’s it going?” He asked, sounding as casual as he could.

“Oh, just been really busy. I hope we can see each other soon, there is a lot to talk about! How have you been?”

“Just peachy. Went for a walk, had some hot chocolate, found out that I have a doppelgänger and that you’re filming a movie with him right in Hackensack!” Junior spoke slowly, his voice raising a bit.

He was greeted with silence over the phone before she let out a small chuckle. “Well…I did just say that there was a lot I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Tiffany, what the fuck?!” He exclaimed. “You didn’t think that this was something you should’ve told me sooner? I mean, you’re making a movie with a guy who looks exactly like I did! In my town!”

“I figured it was something that would be better for you to hear in person!” Tiffany defended herself. “I mean, I can tell that this is pretty shocking for you. And I also did want it to be a surprise.”

“A surprise? Ha! Well, I sure as hell was surprised! My heart is still racing, I think I’m gonna have a heart attack.” Junior shook his head, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

“I know, I’m sorry for not telling you soon,” Tiffany apologized, “I think maybe you four should come over to the hotel. This might be a pretty long conversation. And I could bake chocolate chip cookies!”

“You know how hard it will be to convince the others to go over there?”

“They still don’t trust me?”

“Oh absolutely not.” Junior replied truthfully. “But I’ll figure something out. I’ll convince them and then you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I know, hun,” she cooed and it relaxed the doll a little more, “I’ll see you soon, okay, Junbug?”

He sighed loudly. “I’m gonna kill Nica for starting that, no one’s called me fucking Junbug since I was fucking six.” He grumbled in annoyance.

Tiffany laughed. “I’m sure you’ll try, sweetface.” She said before hanging up the phone.

Junior took a deep breath and released it, exhaling as long as he could before walking back to the others in the living room. “C’mon, get an Uber, we’re going to see Tiffany and Nica.” He said casually and tossed Jake his phone.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Jake almost exclaimed after just barely managing to catch his phone.

“You heard me. We’re gonna meet both of them at Tiffany’s hotel. So let’s go!” Junior repeated, even clapping his plastic hands together for extra measure.

“No. Definitely not. She’ll kill us!” Lexy said with wide eyes.

The doll rolled his eyes. “She’s not going to kill your guys, I mean it.”

“Look, I get that you trust her and all…but she literally had me tied up and gagged to a chair in a house that was about to explode.” Devon reminded him.

Junior shifted from one foot to the other. “Okay, she totally didn’t make the best first impression…but she obviously has some plan involving my doppelgänger and it’s a lot better to get this over with in person than over the phone.” He looked over at the trio. “So could you guys please trust me enough to go to the hotel? Please?”

The others were quiet for a moment, obviously still on edge and not trusting this before Jake looked at his boyfriend. “Dev, do you still have your taser on you, just in case?”

“I never leave the house without it anymore.” Devon replied seriously.

Junior blinked in surprise. “Wait, you have a ta—you know what, we’ll talk about that later,” he shook his head and looked at his ex-girlfriend, “so…what do you say, Lex?”

Lexy huffed, not wanting to give in…but she wasn’t the only one who knew how to give him a pouty look to get him to surrender.

The doll knew too.

And that was exactly what he did. He pouted, widened his blue eyes as much as he could, and batted his eyelashes innocently at her.

She sighed loudly, stomping her foot before opening up the Uber app on her phone. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Juni.”

And that’s how they ended up getting an Uber to the hotel Tiffany was still staying at, all of them being dead silent. Normally Junior was the one not talking, due to having to pretend that he was a normal doll, but the others weren’t speaking either.

Maybe they really were nervous or scared to finally meet Tiffany since they were so convinced that she was going to kill them and chop up their bodies into tiny pieces to dispose of them.

Or maybe it was because they couldn’t talk about possessing an actor that was identical to a dead guy in front of their Uber driver.

Both did make a lot of sense.

Once they were out of the car, Junior could tell that they really were nervous. Devon was fidgeting and rocking himself on the balls of his feet, Lexy’s arms were trembling around the doll, and Jake had that stupid constipated look on his face that he always got when he was anxious or scared or both.

He really hoped Tiffany wouldn’t frighten them by saying or doing anything, because they might literally run away.

“Guys, just chill out. It’s gonna be fine.” Junior said to the others quietly without fully leaving doll mode.

“Easy for you to say. Tiffany obviously favors you a lot more than us for certain reasons.” Jake grumbled and Junior knew what the “certain reasons” were without him needing to say it.

Tiffany liked Junior because he was capable of killing.

He had only killed one person, his father, but maybe that still placed him pretty high on her favorite list.

“Whatever. Let’s go, it’s show time.” Junior told them and after another thirty seconds, his friends remembered how to move their legs and slowly walked inside the hotel.

Tiffany was already waiting in the lobby as soon as they walked in, the others immediately freezing. She grinned excitedly and waved at them-or maybe it was just at Junior, he didn’t know-, quickly making her way over to them.

“Hi kids!” She said with her infamous grin, bending down a little so she was at eye level with the doll. “Well, hello, Junior! Love the new look!” Junior shot her a quick wink, being as still as he could since they weren’t alone in the lobby.

Tiffany straightened herself up and looked at Devon. “Devon, so nice to see you again!” She said as if the last time they had met wasn’t when Devon was about to die, his best friend giving her a tiny but shaky smile.

The blonde woman looked at his ex and cousin, smiling at them. “And you must be Lexy and Jake! Jun-Jun’s talked so much about you both!” They both still looked uncomfortable and Junior felt Lexy’s grip around him tighten.

Tiffany clapped her hands together. “Come! Come, come, come, we have a lot to talk about!” She giggled and quickly turned around, sauntering off toward her hotel room.

Lexy sighed loudly. “If we die, I will make sure my ghost comes back to haunt you for eternity, Junior.” She muttered under her breath and started walking alongside his friends, making the doll snort quietly.

They walked slowly and hesitantly, cautiously looking around as if Chucky himself would pop out from the corner and try to stab them. Then again, that was always a possibility, since he was certain that there were plenty of other Chucky dolls still out there.

But that was a problem they would worry about for another day.

When they were alone in the hallway, Tiffany turned around to face the others. “Sweetface! C’mon, gimme a hug!” She said to Junior with her arms out.

Lexy held the doll a little closer to her so he broke out of doll mode and looked at her. “It’s okay, Lex. You can let me go.” He reassured her and after a moment, she passed him to the older woman.

Tiffany held Junior and hugged him close, grinning at him. “Oh, Jun-Jun, it’s been so long! I missed you!”

The doll chuckled a little and patted her shoulder. “I missed you too, Tiff, a lot.” He admitted, sending her a big smile.

She giggled and walked toward her door, the human kids walking carefully behind her and pressing themselves close to one another as if that was their way of protecting each other.

If anything, it’d just be easier to kill them. If Tiffany had a sword, she could through all three of them at once.

But Junior didn’t need to worry them anymore, so he would just keep his mouth shut.

Tiffany hummed under her breath and opened the door with one hand, the other arm still around the door. “Nica! Junbug’s back and we have guests!” She exclaimed as she walked inside.

Junior let out a long and loud sigh, hearing his so-called friends giggling quietly. That fucking Junbug nickname was never leaving now.

Damnit, Nica.

Speak of the devil-rather the exact opposite, actually-, Nica wheeled herself toward them. “Hey, Junior. You weren’t kidding when you said you got a makeover, you look great!”

Despite how annoyed the doll was at her for spreading that childish nickname, he still smiled at her. “Thanks, Nica. You look better now that you aren’t at risk of being possessed by a serial killer.”

Nica snorted and rolled her eyes but was still smiling. “Thanks,” she looked at the trio that were still being huddled together, “these must be your friends, right?”

Tiffany carefully placed Junior on the ground and he stood beside her, turning his head to look at the others. “Yeah! Jake, Lexy, Devon, this is Nica.” He looked back at Nica. “Nica, this…this is my family.”

It was the first time he said that, to say that the amazing people who accepted him back into their lives and forgave him after everything were his family. They truly were. Some by blood, some not. But he didn’t care.

He loved those idiots and would give his life again to protect them.

Besides, it did soften them a bit because when Junior looked back at them, he could see them relax more from his words.

It also looked almost like Jake was about to cry, so he made a mental note to tease his cousin a little for getting soft later.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you all.” Nica told them with a genuine smile.

The brunette woman seemed different than when the doll last saw her. She seemed a little more calm, even happy. He supposed getting a murderer out of someone’s body could make them feel better.

And maybe Tiffany was treating her good too, because she didn’t seem as tense as before a couple weeks ago.

Junior walked back toward the others, standing in front of his cousin, just as the blonde woman spoke. “Come on, why don’t we all sit down so we can talk!”

Whatever progress the doll thought they were making was obviously wrong, because his friends didn’t move. “I won’t bite!” Tiffany added in, sounding amused.

“No, but she will stab.” Jake randomly said, quite rudely.

Without another thought, Junior pulled his arm back and brought his elbow down as hard as he could on Jake’s kneecap.

His cousin immediately yelled out in pain, stumbling back and grabbing his knee. He could hear at least three voices yelling the doll’s name and a familiar high-pitched giggle, but Junior pointed a tiny finger at Jake. “Don’t be fucking rude!”

Jake stared back at him incredulously, still clutching his knee. “Are you fucking kidding me, Junior?!”

“No! Don’t be rude or I’ll elbow the other one!” He threatened, glaring at his cousin.

Lexy let out a quick laugh before she stopped herself. “I-I’m sorry, it’s just…Junior’s been threatening your kneecaps ever since he got here…and he actually did it, I didn’t think he would, but holy shit.” She said to Jake, still holding in her laughter while he stared at her in disbelief.

“Junior, play nice.” Tiffany said once she stopped giggling, obviously entertained by the show Junior gave her.

The doll huffed. “Fine…” he looked back at his cousin with a smirk, “but I still like to play dirty.”

“Fuck you, Junior!” Jake flipped him off, standing up straight fully but leaned more on the leg that the doll didn’t injure.

Tiffany propped her hands on her hips and raised both of her eyebrows. “Do you kids want to hear my plan or not?” She asked them, waiting on them to stop bickering.

They all went quiet, silently agreeing to listen, so Junior took a deep breath before turning to face the blonde woman.

“What’s the plan, Tiff?”

[joontella]

achromatic.

Yandere!Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Word Count: 11.1k

Genre(s):  Angst, Slight Fluff, (HORRIBLY WRITTEN) Smut

Trigger Warning(s): Mentions of religion or lack thereof, blood, murder, idk how the human body works, (unknown) consumption of blood, manipulation, stalking, male masturbation (again, horribly written), Namjoon is an asshole, and musical terms because i play music rip, minor character death, slight gore. it gets really shitty towards the end. i’m sorry

Merry Merry! It’s Peppermint! Your gift is finally here, @exhausted-joy​! I’m sorry for the wait. I had to make sure that it was perfect. This is my first time doing this, and I really wanted to give it my all. Please forgive me, and thank you for putting up with my antics in the server. I hope you enjoy it!

I also want to thank Saniya (@smeraldos-blog), Mari (@joheun-saram), Hannah (@spicykoreantatertots), Ley (@pars-ley​), Avery (@ksmuttherapy​), and everyone else who tolerated and/or helped me out! I love you all and thank you so much for the help and support! I’m so happy to have met you all!

ach·ro·mat·ic /akrəˈmadik/

adjective

without color.

“Damn. There goes my chance of starting my winter break with a passing grade.” One woman groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about? You have a solid ‘C’! I’m literally failing everything!” Her friend responded, as her arms waved in a cartoonish rendition of exasperation. “And whose fault is that?” “Not mine! This semester was nothing but a months-long depressive episode. How could I focus with everything that’s going on?”

He so desperately wishes that they would shut up, or at the very least, take their obnoxiously loud conversation elsewhere. Namjoon twirled the ink pen in his hand with a practiced precision only years of being hunched over paperwork could provide. However, those were nothing but pipe dreams as the two students turned their attention over to him. “There’s Kim Namjoon! He’s had the top spot for years now, way before he was enrolled here.” One began babbling quite loudly whilst pointing to the man in question. “I bet he came out of the womb with high marks. I heard that he scored in the 99th percentile for his newborn screening tests.” The other swooned in response to her own musings.

Obviously, these two were much more idiotic than he had originally thought. It didn’t take an expert to read his body language: the way that he twirled his pen faster, as if that could speed up the agonizing conversation he was being forced to bear witness to; the way his jaw clenched so tightly that it could easily break a metal wire; and the position his shoulders held, resembling an animal coiling in preparation to strike or flee. He pleaded to gods he didn’t even believe in for the duo to be quickly eradicated with a swift strike of lightning. According to the calculations he made swiftly in his head, the chances of something like that happening were infinitesimally small. How unfortunate.

Deciding that the best course of action to take would be to leave the two neanderthals to their devices, Namjoon did just that. He quickly snapped his book shut with one hand and a loud, meaningful clap as the pages suddenly collided with each other. If that didn’t make the nuisances jump in surprise, his words would.

“Although I’m a source of inspiration and wonder to many, it’s degrading to hear someone so openly refer to me in a way that one would to an exotic zoo animal,” He began. Namjoon’s tone was cool and even, carrying an air of regality all the while retaining a bitter edge of contempt and disdain for both the conversation and the mere existence of the two original party members. 

Finally, the two felt the brunt of the consequences their crimes on Namjoon’s ears had to offer. They both visibly wilted, reminding the tall man of his mother’s daisies being roasted and withering under the dry summer heat. Normally, this would have been more than enough to diffuse the situation and lift him of his auditory burden. However, his heart ached for more. His brain so desperately yearned for more stimulation and a rush of dopamine.

He decided to twist the knife, so to speak.

“Also, you too could rise to the top.” Namjoon said as he began to turn away.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the two wilted flowers gain new life and their faces brighten with newfound hope. The loudest of the two even had the audacity to whimper a pathetically optimistic, “Really?”

Twist. Twist. Twist!

“Of course~.” Namjoon purred, deciding to turn to face his victims’ satisfying demise. His heart threatened to beat in double time in anticipation.

Although their anxiously awaiting smiles made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny the mirth swirling alongside the disgust in his belly.

“First off, instead of blaming your inadequacies solely on the tumultuous events of this year, take responsibility for your shortcomings. Only children avoid blaming themselves.”

He could hear the glass shattering as their faces fell in a tandem that most would find heartbreaking. He found it utterly amusing. Now, he would take his leave. After receiving the reaction he desired and more, Namjoon wanted nothing more than to leave the duo to stew in their humiliation. Yet, one last thing lingered. He had yet to land the finishing blow that would ensure that he wouldn’t be bothered by these two pieces of scum ever again.

Twist. Twist! TWIST!

“Before I forget, avoid talking so loudly. As you may or may not have noticed, I was trying to study. You know, one of the things that facilitates good grades? I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but your incessant bantering made it increasingly difficult to do so. Might I suggest that you follow my example and do the same? Maybe then, one day, you could take my place at the top.”

Namjoon wasn’t even facing them anymore. His back was to the two women, further solidifying his dismissal of them. With a simple and curt wave of his hand, he simply uttered,

“Ladies.”

And he was on his way.

“Exam results will be posted this afternoon. I trust that you all scored high enough marks to keep our university in high regard.” Your professor droned from the front of the lecture hall. “I know that many of you despise the fact that a standardized test is still administered in college, but so far, it is the only way to ensure that Mugunghwa National Academy is churning out bright students worthy enough to contribute to society!”

The students in question couldn’t care less about their scores or the school’s prestige. All they were worried about was getting the hell out of there after two hours of examination and stifling silence. They all stood from their seats and slung their bags across their bodies. A disgruntled murmur rang throughout. Quite frankly, you were no different.

As you hugged your notebook close to your body, your professor stopped you as you reached the lecture hall door.

“Ah, Miss (L/N). A word, please.”

Surprised, you let out a soft, “Sure.” and walked over to the podium where your professor started to neatly stack and organize his papers.

“As you know, Miss (L/N), you are one of the two best students we’ve had at this academy recently.”

You shifted your weight awkwardly at the sudden praise. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you began to speak. “I mean, I guess? I wouldn’t go that far, but I suppose that records and the numbers do suggest that I’m performing quite well.” Your professor scowled at your response. You were a bright young woman. You deserved to flaunt it and soak up the praise every once in a while, right? He folded his arms and sighed deeply causing your brain to go into overdrive on how you could rectify the situation. “While pride does come short of a fall, you should learn to take compliments when they’re given, (Y/N). I promise you that you won’t become an egomaniac anytime soon as a result.” He said gently, causing your nerves to subside. Right. Maybe you should just accept compliments. A little self esteem boost never hurt anybody, right? “Thank you, professor, but may I ask why you’re telling me this?” You asked, trying to move the conversation along as politely as you could. You had an hour before you were due to go to the college’s radio station and prepare for this evening’s broadcast. Hopefully, your professor would get to the point so you could quickly grab a bite to eat before you started airing.

“Oh yes, of course! I’m sorry! I said all this to tell you that I have your exam results already. Seeing as how you are the brightest in your class, you finished early, giving me enough time to grade yours while your peers were working. I think that you’ll find the results to your liking, Miss (L/N).” He grinned, handing you a white manila envelope with the school’s insignia printed on the front.

You quirked a brow and opened it. You were then greeted by the name of the school, its motto, and yet another print of the school emblem on the header. Your (E/C) eyes scanned the page until you found what you were looking for:

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎 

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: (𝑳/𝑵), (𝒀/𝑵) 

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒎 

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21 

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 98/100 

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌:

1 𝒐𝒇 300

You stood there, dumbfounded. The paper you once held gingerly and timidly was wrinkling and threatening to tear under your now iron grip. You were now number one. Somehow, some way, you managed to best Kim Namjoon. Mugunghwa’s already carefully balanced and fragile ecosystem was crumbling around you. What have you done?

“I take it that you’re in shock. I’ll leave you alone to celebrate.” Your professor said smoothly as he slung his coat over his shoulder. “Congratulations, (Y/N). Please enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Uh huh… Will do…” You uttered dumbly.

Mugunghwa National Academy ran on strict rules, but most of them were unspoken. For the sake of your sanity and that of the rest of the student body (and let’s face it, staff, too), you intended to follow those sacred and silent rules to the letter.

Rule Number One: Don’t look in the janitor’s closet near the athletics facilities. You may not come out the same way as you came in.

Rule Number Two: If the cafeteria serves meatloaf, avoid it at all costs. Only eat it if you want to get sick and purposely miss class.

Rule Number Three: Kim Namjoon is the best at everything. He is to be number one until Hell freezes over.

Rule Number Four: In order to keep peace and balance between the nations, (Y/N) (L/N) must always come in second. This is the natural order of things.

You were content with being in second place. To be frank, you preferred to leave the pomp and circumstance of being the top dog to Namjoon. He was more equipped to bear the burden, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like your future career was depending on you being the best. You could skate by with a silver medal and leave Namjoon with the gold. You preferred the look of silver, anyway.

Now look at what you've done. There’s no doubt that the records have been updated by now. Your professor did grade yours early, and it’s reasonable to assume that Namjoon’s was as well. You’d inadvertently torn a hole in the gossamer fabric that was Mugunghwa National Academy. With one exam, you signed the collective death certificate of every other person besides Kim Namjoon himself. 

May God have mercy on your wretched soul.

“Young Master, your father would like to have a word with you in his study.” The head butler of the Kim mansion stated simply.

For the second time that day, Namjoon clenched his jaw tightly. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to the older gentleman who was automatically waiting at his side to collect the article of clothing. He hadn’t even gotten through the door and already his father wanted to speak with him. This didn’t bode well.

“Seokjin, did he mention why he’d want to see me?” Namjoon asked dryly. Seokjin simply shook his head and hung his coat on the nearby rack. 

“He only mentioned that it was urgent, so I suggest that it would be in your best interest to make it there expeditiously.”

This certainly did not bode well. Kim Joonho was a man of few words. Most would say that he’s the very definition of “actions speak louder than words”. Whenever the CEO of Kim Industries did something, people watched in equal parts starstruck awe and fear. However, when the CEO of Kim Industries deemed something important enough to speak on, there was no choice in the matter. You either listened intently or you perished in more ways than one. This was no different for Joonho’s family. In fact, he was worse to them. Working under the guise of caring for his family, Joonho was more stoic to his wife and children.

Regardless of his debatably righteous intentions, it sent the Kim family into delicately managed dysfunction. Simply put, Kim Joonho never spoke to Namjoon out of wishing to connect with his son on a more personal level. Namjoon was the next heir to Kim Industries. Being his son was an unfortunate side effect.

“Sir, I know that I did implore you to hurry, but-”

“What?” Namjoon growled. His nerves were shot to shit today. Anything that impeded his meeting with his father and his goal to quickly get it over with was met with hostility.

Seeming to understand this, Seokjin cleared his throat and motioned a gloved hand towards the mansion’s threshold.

“You know better than to walk in the house with your shoes still on,” The Kim butler began smoothly as he made his way over to Namjoon to collect his shoes. “I do understand that you are upset, but you shouldn’t let your emotions cloud your judgement so drastically that you forget such basic cultural conventions.”

Namjoon sighed sharply and bit back a retort that was bubbling in his throat. Arguing with Seokjin was pointless. As per usual, he was correct. Engaging in such petty conflicts would only worsen things.

“Right. I suppose I was quite hasty. Thank you.” Namjoon sighed whilst peeling off his shoes.

“I do believe that an apology is in order, Young Master.”

Namjoon was already halfway across the foyer, about to ascend the grand staircase leading to the upper floors when Seokjin’s cheeky remark reached his ears. He felt his blood begin to simmer in his veins and his muscles stiffen.

“The fact that I haven’t fired you by now and ruined any chances of you gaining any further employment should be enough of an apology. You’re treading on thin ice, Seokjin. Remember your place in this world.”

With that, he continued his journey to the final boss room within the Kim family mansion: his father’s study. The last he heard of Seokjin was a sly chuckle and the clicking of his polished leather shoes against the floor. Staff were not guests. Therefore, they were not allowed the privilege of removing their shoes. They were expendable. They needn’t get too comfortable.

Despite how much he detested it, Namjoon couldn’t deny that cold chill of anxiety that frosted his entire body. His father never wanted to talk to him. Ever. He could count on his hands the times that Joonho requested his presence. He could count on only one hand how many times Joonho requested his presence to celebrate his son’s successes. Their relationship was solely professional. There was no love to be found, no matter how hard you read between the lines. Even in as high of a position as Namjoon is in, he is still subservient to his father.

That’s the natural order of things.

“Come in, Namjoon.” Joonho’s voice rang from behind the large mahogany doors.

Almost cartoonishly, the hinges squeaked like Namjoon was uncovering the entrance to a haunted crypt. Namjoon decided long ago that was an eerily apt way of describing his father’s study.

Naturally, Namjoon obeyed his father and entered the room. Dead center, there sat Kim Joonho on his throne. Sitting with perfect posture behind the large oak desk, Joonho stared his son down with cold eyes filled with disdain. How Namjoon desperately wished he could gouge them out with his father’s prized letter opener.

“Don’t waste my time. Have a seat. I don’t have all day.” Joonho snapped.

“Of course. How are you today, father?”

The CEO’s eyes narrowed at his son’s inquiry. “Spare me the niceties, boy. Sit down. We have business to discuss.”

Before Namjoon could interject, Joonho was already reaching into a drawer and produced a white manila envelope. Upon closer inspection, one could see Mugunghwa National Academy’s insignia emblazoned on the front. Once Namjoon was properly seated, he reached out and grabbed the parcel.

“May I ask what this is?” “You may not. You have eyes, boy. Read it for yourself.”

The frigid chill of anxiety was soon being replaced with the molten heat of fury. Some tiny part of Namjoon’s mind was concerned that he would develop a fever at the sudden and constant shifts in his body temperature. That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t afford for his health to decline. That would be another thing for his father to berate him for.

“Of course. My apologies, father.” Namjoon whispered as he undid the envelope’s fastening. Once he did so, he pulled the paper out with an air of nonchalance. Surely, it must have been another letter from the school to congratulate him on some academic achievement he didn’t even realize existed. However, in his eyes and in the eyes of his father, it was the exact opposite.

 𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎 

 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: 𝑲𝒊𝒎, 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏 

 𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓(𝒔): 𝑩𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 

 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21 

 𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 96/100 

 𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌: 2 𝒐𝒇 300

For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon’s world fell apart before his very eyes. Suddenly the sturdy and imposing columns holding up the large study appeared to crumble around him. The fire that crackled in the fireplace was reduced to nothing but pathetic cinders. He felt the ground split beneath his feet and his father… His father grew to a monstrous size in comparison to his surroundings, suddenly hunched over his son in preparation to strike.

“This must be some mistake! The results must have gotten mixed up! I-”

“Enough!” Joonho boomed. He swiftly slammed his hand down on his desk, successfully frightening his son into silence. “Only children avoid blaming themselves. I thought I taught you to accept responsibility! How dare you blame your inadequacies on the people who made them apparent?!”

Namjoon clenched his fists tightly in his lap and pushed down the urge to go through on his original plan of plucking his father’s eyeballs out.

“Can’t you see? Whoever graded my exam was clearly incompetent. If they had a brain stem, they would know that I am only capable of producing top-class work! Just like you should not be blamed for one measly employee’s mistake, I should not be blamed for the mistake of someone beneath me!” Namjoon exclaimed. Once he finished his spiel, he found himself standing up, but he didn’t remember willing his muscles to do so.

“This entire conversation is pointless. It’s inefficient at best and mind-numbing at its worst! For someone who values time and money more than his own family, I find it quite curious that you’re willing to waste both so frivolously.”

Now, it was Joonho’s turn to clench his jaw and his fists. Despite the utter disdain he felt for the situation, the patriarch had to admit the merit in his son’s retort. His pride would never let him express the sliver of admiration that stirred within him at Namjoon’s courageous display.

Nobody dared talk back to Kim Joonho. That was the natural order of things.

“Regardless of who’s truly at fault, find this (Y/N) (L/N). She usurped your throne, Namjoon. She deserves to be punished for her transgression.”

“Of course. She’s public enemy number one, but she won’t be number one ever again.”

With that, the young master of the Kim household turned his back on the old master and shut the door to the crypt behind him.

“Aaaaaand now, we’re back after our break!” Your co-host chirped from beside you.

The red on-air sign glowed warmly overhead, creating a sense of coziness and heat in the otherwise cold station. You wrapped your cardigan closer around you before adjusting your mic.

“And we’re about to go into our winter break soon. How fitting!” You posited, trying to match your co-host’s energy.

“That’s right! Mugunghwa exams are finally over, and the scores and ranks have already been updated for some! Care to talk about that, (Y/N)?” Taehyung, your co-host, wiggled his sharp eyebrows in his quest to prod for information.

Normally, his rectangular grin and bright eyes would warm your heart. Today, however, you wanted to punch that devilish smirk right off of him. You should have known that Tae would have suddenly caught wind of your latest academic achievement. He’s the university’s most involved (read: nosiest) student. 

“Not really… But you won’t shut up until I do, so…” You sighed as you spun around in your swivel chair. Once you stopped your cycle, you scooted closer to the microphone and cleared your throat. “I got a 98 on the exam. My professor stopped me after class and told me the news.”

Not that anyone but you and the sound director, Yoongi, would see it, but Taehyung’s impish smile turned into a disappointed pout. “Ah, listen to our (Y/N). Always dodging the important questions. Such a tease!”

You shoved him gently and laughed at his comment before shaking your head. “This guy… To everyone who dreams of dating him, work with him first. You’ll see how much of a horrible person he is.”

“Yah! That’s slander! Aren’t journalists supposed to avoid that?”

“I’ll kick your ass.” You licked your lips and began to answer the original question in further detail. “Yeah, so… Anyway, I got a 98 and I guess that warranted me becoming number one…?”

Both Taehyung and Yoongi’s faces dropped. From his booth, you could see Yoongi grimace and in your peripheral, you saw Tae stiffen.

“Up next is Still With You by our resident golden boy Jeon Jungkook. We’ll be back soon. Stay tuned.” 

Suddenly, the on-air sign was turned off. The song began to play and Taehyung immediately gripped your shoulders.

“You what?!” Taehyung nearly screeched. “(Y/N), do you have any idea what this means?!” “That I took Kim Namjoon’s place and sent the fragile society of Mugunghwa into ruin? Yeah, I do.” Tae blinked for a moment. “No… Although, that does make sense. That seems way more important than what I was gonna say. Huh.”

You were actually going to punch the shit out of him. “Dude, what?”

“Listen, this is your chance! You can finally get recognized as the top-tier person that you are! As long as you were under Kim’s big, goofy shadow, you were going to be pushed aside! Now you can show everyone here how cool you are!”

You felt your throat tighten. That all-too-familiar sensation of a goose egg being lodged in your esophagus rose. You were going to cry. How you desperately wished that you could view the world like Taehyung did. How you longed to see the silver lining of every situation just like he did. All you saw was destruction and despair. All you felt was guilt for damning the entire student body to some cruel fate that only Kim Namjoon could dish out.

“Tae, I love you, but you don’t fucking get it! I’m screwed! We’re all screwed! I broke two of the sacred rules of this school! Kim Namjoon must always be first! I must always be second! I just sentenced everyone to death!”

Taehyung raised a brow, as if what you were saying were the incoherent ramblings of a mad woman. “You describe my cousin like he’s some heinous demon.” Even the usually passive Yoongi had to straighten his spine and widen his eyes at this revelation.

“He’s your cousin?!”

Tae leaned back in his seat with yet another smirk. This time, you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion this specific lift of his lips held. “Isn’t the resemblance obvious? The Kim line has some strong genes. It’s been that way since the Joseon era, I’ve been told.”

Ignoring the historical implications for why such strong genes would still be present thousands of years later (assuming that Taehyung was actually serious), you hurried the conversation along. Jungkook’s silky voice had faded away a while ago, leaving the two of you with little to no time left before it was time to open the floor to callers. This was your last chance to get some useful information about Namjoon before you were dragged into what you knew was going to be a relentless storm of phone calls and incredulous screeches at the news.

Like you had said before, you’d damned everyone. Who wouldn’t want to yell at the person that had the audacity to send an entire population into ruin?

“Get to the point, Taehyung. You’re telling me that you’re related to Satan himself? And I’ve been your co-host for how long?!” You near screeched.

Tae’s ambiguous smirk was now replaced with a blank expression. “I didn’t think it mattered, (Y/N). Why does it even matter now? If there’s a bigger issue here, I think you’re dodging it.”

You froze. He was right. For as long as you knew him, Taehyung had this uncanny ability to pick people apart and leave them vulnerable in an instant. This was especially effective on you, you’ve come to realize. The funny thing was that you hadn’t realized that you were employing tactics to postpone the inevitable inundation of accusatory and furious phone calls being thrown your way. Deep down, you always hated confrontation. Until Taehyung uttered those words, you hadn’t realized how deep that hatred and aversion was ingrained.

“Damn. You’re...good… I guess I am avoiding things. Let’s just get this over with. If we hold it off any longer, things will get worse.” You muttered as you looked towards Yoongi’s booth, motioning for him to put you both back on air.

Taehyung placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and flashed his signature boxy smile. “You don’t even know what they’re going to say. Who knows? News of your latest accomplishment may have brought the (Y/N) (L/N) Official Fanclub out of hiding. I bet that there are going to be several callers professing their undying love for you!”

“Their what now?” You asked dumbly.

Taehyung placed a hand on his heart and slipped into a persona reminiscent of the male protagonist of one the many romance dramas that were plastered on television nowadays. His deep voice rumbled the soundproof padding on the walls and wrapped you in its velvety embrace.

“(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I’ve struggled with these emotions for so long, but news of your success has given me the courage to confess them. I can’t quite make heads or tails of them, but I want to explore them all with you…” Not that anyone but you and Yoongi could see the exchange, but Taehyung gently cupped your chin with his large hand and looked longingly into your eyes. “That is, if you’d let me.”

Silence. Then raucous laughter from you and Taehyung. (Yoongi was visibly cringing in his booth.) You expected nothing less from the theater major, but you couldn’t help the delicate fluttering that began in your stomach. Was this the fabled Taehyung Effect at work? The two of you turned to your microphones and opened the floor to callers, as per usual for this segment of your show. What was highly unusual, however, was the heartfelt “confession” that was unwittingly broadcasted to everyone tuned in. Unbeknownst to everyone, the red on-air sign shone above your heads, serving as a beacon or perhaps an unfortunately ignored warning. A warning that your lighthearted joke wasn’t going to be a joke to some.

A warning that the harbinger of doom himself was listening in… A warning that he had now collected leverage over his new enemy… A warning that he was going to destroy you, even if he had to use his own relative to do it. He would surely add this to his rapidly growing arsenal of schemes.

The next day, the very air at Mugunghwa was different. Somehow, despite being the enigmatic second-place student, everyone instinctively knew to distance themselves from you. Biologically speaking, humans were still animals, despite the staunch separation that was created over time. There was still a basal instinct to survive. In this case, that instinct screamed, “Get away from the brainlet that dared to tip the scales and anger Kim Namjoon.” You didn’t blame anyone for their decision. You couldn’t. You’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if you did, and you didn’t want “hypocrite” to be engraved on your tombstone next to “cold-blooded killer”.

Everywhere you walked, people watched you intently with eyes filled with either fear, confusion, or disgust. You could hear thinly-veiled whispers as you passed your fellow students. 

“There she is.”

“She’s surprisingly pretty. I expected some ugly broad to be under Namjoon’s shadow.”

Ah, yes. You had forgotten your previously fairly secretive life before the shoe dropped. You were content with living under the radar. After all, it kept the vicious rumors of the poor girl who by hook or crook got her way into an elite university on a full-ride scholarship at bay. As long as you held the number two spot, nobody cared about you. News of your arrival and subsequent theories surrounding it were just a fad that most people shortly moved on from. The drastic and sudden change from peaceful irrelevance to hostile notoriety made you nauseous.

The cold air nipped at your flesh while you made your way to the library. Fresh snow made its satisfying crunching sound as you sped towards your destination. Wait. Sped? Only when you looked down at your feet did you realize that your steps were quicker than usual. Needless to say, you were confused at this revelation. Were things really this bad? Why was your body subconsciously hurrying you along when no danger was immediately present? Then, it hit you: If the Kim Taehyung Effect caused your insides to flutter and your heart melt with glee, the Kim Namjoon Effect caused everyone to cower and hide in pure horror. Maybe it ran in the family. After all, the two were related. How that crucial detail managed to slip past you was beyond human understanding.

Soon enough, you made your way into the campus library. Warmth enveloped you and thawed your chilled skin with each step into the large building. The tall bookshelves that towered over you and the other patrons made you feel safe. The walls of knowledge served as barriers from the predatory glares that were shot your way anywhere else. Here, while not entirely forbidden, hushed insults and remarks were more so. The library was your sanctuary when the dormitories weren’t, and with all the girls and even your RA avoiding you like the plague, it was safe to say that your dorm wasn’t very inviting right now.

Whatever it took, you needed to get your mind off of the Namjoon business. Sitting down in the warm silence served to do just that. You absentmindedly wandered through the various sections of the building. The nutty scent of someone’s morning brew filled your nostrils on your journey, easily putting you at ease in an instant. The rhythmic click-clack of someone's fingers against a computer keyboard kept your body grounded to the Earth. It served as a nice tether and protection from your thoughts that threatened to whisk you away into the stratosphere with every step you took.

Your feet took you past the reference section, the nonfiction section, and even the genealogy section before making its final stop at the fiction section. When you first started college, you found it odd that a library carried such books, but you soon came to realize that an escape into another world was appreciated by everyone. A love for fiction did not have an age limit.

You found yourself engrossed in a high fantasy novel by one Bang Sihyuk. (A very talented author, you decided. You made a note to look into some of his other works when you weren’t staring death in the face.) The sweet sound of yet another page turning and revealing more of the lore slowed your racing heart. The subtle smell of ink and glue softened your muscles, willing them to relax into the plush chair. The floor lamp next to you glowed softly and turned the usually stark clash of pitch black lettering against white pages into a mellow brown against cream parchment.

Even if you knew you had to face the wolves outside your sanctuary eventually, you still savored the solace you had in that moment. What you never considered was that those halcyon days were going to soon fall into utter ruin and despair with a singular human-shaped silhouette.

Everywhere Namjoon went, eyes followed. The air around him crackled with apprehension, but he couldn’t care less if he tried. This was natural. The pitiful prey animals around scrambled away for dear life, functioning solely on the fleeting notion that sticking around would spell their demise. Most of the people here were college students beginning their prime. They couldn’t afford to wither away… Not yet, at least… And certainly not here.

Stifled gasps laced with fear and admiration threatened to strangle the poor Kim heir. How he so desperately wished that they would all shut up! The constant buzzing murmur felt like mosquitoes tiptoeing across his skin during the hot and balmy summer months. It was highly annoying, to say the least.

His piercing mocha eyes landed on a target. A mousy figure was dwarfed by Namjoon’s taller and muscular frame. Pair the size difference with his steely and—arguably murderous—gaze fixed on the piteous male before him, both parties were surprised that the smaller student didn’t go into cardiac arrest.

“I would stay to chat, but I have important business to attend to,” Namjoon began. The timbre of his voice seeped into the small man’s bones and rattled them with each syllable. “You obviously know something, or else you wouldn’t be so pathetically fearful.”

The other male gulped audibly. His dull brown eyes stared into Namjoon’s vibrant cocoa ones. His pupils contracted as a cold sweat formed on his forehead and neck. Deep down, he knew that one wrong move would send him spiraling into horrors unimaginable. This was Kim Namjoon he was dealing with. He only had one chance. 

“I don’t know w-what you’re talking about…” He squeaked.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes with clear annoyance and disgust for the situation and the animal shivering before him. This caused the mousy man to gasp sharply.

“Tell me where (Y/N) (L/N) is. It’s a simple request. Even someone of your calibre should be capable of such a mundane task.” Namjoon stated simply. Disdain bled through his words into his tone and seeped into his prey’s already paper-thin psyche.

With a trembling arm, the rodent (as Namjoon decided to call him) pointed in the direction of the campus library. Of course you would be there. It made his blood boil to think that you’d already be in the library after receiving news of your latest feat. Anyone else would be a fool to risk losing such an honor. Studying was the only way to cement your new station as Mugunghwa’s new number one.

Without so much as a half-assed utter of thanks, Namjoon strode off in the direction of the large building. He was so hyper-focused on cutting you down and ensuring that you wouldn’t be a problem again that the signature thud of a body against snow missed his attention completely. The concerned and shocked gasps of onlookers didn’t affect him either.

Soon enough, he was at his destination. The same book-filled shelves and walls that greeted you greeted him at the entrance. Upon seeing his figure, the librarian at the circulation desk straightened in order to greet Namjoon properly. ‘At least one person here knew their place.’ He thought to himself.

“I’m looking for (Y/N) (L/N). It’d be in your best interest to point me in her direction as quickly as possible, Jimin.” Namjoon stated coolly with a tinge of nonchalance. Although he was painfully aware of the importance his little scouting mission served, his seemingly apathetic tone was the result of having said the same thing over and over like a broken record. The sooner he found you and got you to bend the knee, the sooner he could return home to his own studies.

The librarian, Jimin, nodded and swiftly pointed towards the fiction section. His mug of hazelnut coffee threatened to spill at the sudden and crisp motion. “She went that way, towards the fiction books.” He stated plainly. Namjoon couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his features. Jimin was always such an attentive servant. 

Ever since that little incident before Mugunghwa’s annual recital, the dance major felt a deep sense of allegiance towards the older male. He had to. Namjoon was the only reason Park Jimin was able to continue his dream of becoming a world-class dancer, and it was made abundantly clear that what Kim Namjoon giveth, he can just as easily taketh away. Poor Jimin had no idea why you were being sought out by the most powerful student at the university, but he couldn’t help but suppress the gnawing sensation that he was leading you to a painful end.

Once again, forgoing a thank you, Namjoon began the final stretch of his arduous journey to find you and finally set things right in the world. The only issue was that he had no idea who he was looking for, exactly.

Oddly enough, despite your status, you had managed to keep a low profile. Very few people actually knew what you looked like. Hell, your student profile didn’t even have an image of you posted. In fact, the only way people outside of your direct circle of cohorts started to gather what you looked like was because the web connecting (Y/N) (L/N), radio show host and journalism major and (Y/N) (L/N), former number two was finally starting to weave itself. As far as most of the student body was concerned, you were nothing but a faceless placeholder image against a drab gray background. It wouldn’t have surprised Namjoon if you actually walked around with the words, “NO IMAGE AVAILABLE” permanently marked on your body. What he saw, however, was beyond his own comprehension.

There you were, his enemy, his prey. You sat idly in the large cushioned chair with your book nestled delicately in your hands. For the moment, you were blissfully unaware of the danger that loomed nearby. This was almost too easy. Almost as if your presence unlocked a vault to all his plans to destroy you, you looked at him.

And then his world changed. He almost felt sick at the sudden rush of sensory input his brain was forced to parse through. The previously unsaturated hall roared to life with colors he hadn’t even seen before. Warm browns, reds, and hues of every other name shot into Namjoon’s retinas upon gazing at your graceful form. This was (Y/N) (L/N)? This hidden gem? He was meant to demolish this?

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was rendered speechless. His heart began to beat in double-time. If his biological functions were a musical piece, this specific section’s tempo marking would be prestissimo. Beyond vivace, beyond presto.

He couldn’t take it, so for the first time ever, Kim Namjoon ran away.

You didn’t dare move. Fear wrapped its spindly fingers around your heart and clutched it in its icy grasp. You didn’t have to move your eyes off of the page to see who the shadow cast onto it belonged to. Deep down, you knew. 

Goddamn it.

You just knew.

Just when you gathered the courage to face your doom head on, he was gone.

“What the fuck…?” You whispered. Your fantasy novel fell to the ground on its spine with a soft thud. Was this it? Were you officially losing it? Was stress causing you to hallucinate and see literal shadow people?! That was it.

Not wanting to have a literal breakdown in the middle of the library, you honed your senses in on the now cold-smelling coffee nearby. The faint hazelnut blend managed to at least tether you down to reality once more. You took a deep breath. Everything was now in focus. You had to leave, you decided. So that’s what you did.

If the library’s other patrons noticed the shocked, glazed over look in your eyes, nobody said anything. You had just come in contact with the menace. You were lucky to be alive. There’s no need to add insult to injury by inquiring about your current situation. Wordlessly, you ambled out of the library door. Jimin’s small eyes followed your every movement until you were finally out of his line of sight.

Soon enough, you made it to your dorm room. Oddly enough, it felt like you’d walked through a wormhole and warped to the private space. It appears that moving effortlessly through time and space was an eerily common theme that day. Not wishing to dwell on it any further, you plummeted onto your bed and let a dreamless sleep whisk you away from all your troubles.

A month had passed since your clandestine encounter with Namjoon. Surprisingly enough, after the first week or so of living in terror, the foreboding feeling of doom had all but disappeared. Like a colony of ants rebuilding their anthill after a sudden rainstorm, so too did Mugunghwa National Academy rebuild anew. As Thanksgiving rolled into Christmas, the student body had learned to accept that you were now at the top of the food chain. The status quo had shifted in your favor. Students that would previously mutter curses after you passed by would suddenly wave amicably once they noticed your presence.

While the sudden lack of hostility was appreciated, you couldn’t help but notice how shallow the whole situation was. A faint sense of disgust settled at the pit of your stomach. Or was it foreboding, after all? After your encounter with Namjoon’s shadow at the library, the Kim Industries heir had disappeared suddenly. He had disappeared without a trace. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. His scores were still updated regularly; his name was still in the mouths of every man, woman, and child that walked across campus; and you swore that you saw his tall figure slither like a snake behind buildings and shrubbery one time after class. While there was solid proof that he still (at the very least) resided within this plane of existence, Kim Namjoon had achieved cryptid status. Just a month ago, he was the dark overlord that ruled Mugunghwa with an iron fist. Now, he was merely a relic of the past, a name synonymous with the Boogeyman. Kim Namjoon was now used to scare freshmen like tales of a monster under one’s bed were used to frighten young children.

The truth, like all things are, was much more complicated than that. After he met you, his goddess, at the library, Namjoon spiraled out of control. Nothing was the same for him. At first, it was a fleeting rush of endorphins, he had decided. Perhaps the sense of victory he felt after finding his long lost rival caused his brain to go into overdrive with glee. With that in mind, he returned home to lick his wounds and rewrite his battle plans.

The next day, everything seemed normal enough. His world was in grayscale once more. Individuals who weren’t of direct importance to him retained their distorted, blob-like features. His senses were mostly dulled once again… Until you appeared. You walked across campus with grace that put the supermodels that his father regularly “worked with” to shame. To be honest, they looked like pitiful crows with snapped legs when put up against your stork-like elegance.

His previously unsaturated world regained its color. His heart rate increased, warmth filled his veins as a result. Everything was crisply in focus when it came to you. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was terrified… But that’s what intrigued him all the more. Once you left his sight, however, the blooming colors vanished. Everything was blurred again. The warmth had died and left him empty, hollow, and cold. After a few days of this occurrence, Namjoon made his biggest realization yet: he was in love with you.

He was quick to write it off as pure lust. After all, remaining at the top didn’t leave much time for him to indulge in more carnal pleasures. Hell, the only thing he could remember slamming on a table on doing all night long was homework, as old and pathetic as the joke was. Namjoon was a dashing, intelligent young man beginning to reach his prime. Abstaining from such a primal and basic need wasn’t good for him. With that in mind, he immediately began his conquest.

First, it started with the models his father would fuck behind his mother’s back. Despite how carefully manufactured their appearances were, they didn’t quench his thirst. In fact, they enraged Namjoon to the point where it wasn’t uncommon for the women to leave his bedroom bruised the next morning. This charade went on for much too long until he’d had enough.

No other woman could set his heart aflame without even trying. No other woman could bring life to his distorted and achromatic world like you could. So he tried a man. Several men, in fact. He got so desperate that not even his little Park Jimin was safe from his ravenous clutches.

Nothing. Nothing had worked.

Now, as the clock struck midnight in his grand bedroom, Namjoon sat in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. He’d been so on edge for the longest time, yet nothing he did could stir him. So, he did the only thing he knew how… Thoughts of you filled his mind as he ghosted a finger across his limp member. The warmth he felt was returning once more…

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” 

There you were in the Kim manor’s living room. A black silk robe hugged your form perfectly as you bounded over to him. Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast you in its heavenly warm glow. Your (E/C) eyes peered up at him with such admiration, lust, and most importantly, love. Before he could even properly process the scene, you had him enveloped in the warmest hug imaginable.

Namjoon felt a rush of lust and blood shoot straight to his dick.

“I know, darling… But I’m here now. We can be together. I’m all yours from now on.” He replied smoothly.

Namjoon didn’t even think it possible for your eyes to shine any brighter, but they did. And they were all for him. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, for his eyes only… He gently caressed your cheek, careful not to mark it. The time for leaving marks and bruises would come later on… 

“Really?” You asked. Your entire face lit with hope and wonder. “You mean it? Please don’t tease me, baby~. I don’t know what I’d do if you had to go so soon…” 

You buried yourself into him, as if you knew that your home was within his embrace. He relished in it. He really did…

Namjoon felt feverish. His hands got to work immediately. Visions of you nestled against him, starlit eyes gazing into his, your form undulating beneath him as he pounded into you with everything he had. Your ecstatic moans and gasps filled his ears and mind, creating a carnal symphony only you could compose.

Sweat beaded on his temples, his arms beginning to burn with exhaustion as they continued to bring him to completion. Musical, “I love you, Namjoon”s and “Please! I’m so close, baby! Fuck me!”s began to crescendo rapidly. The world around him went from a gentle warmth to a blazing inferno. Colors reached their maximum saturation. Namjoon’s heart began to beat erratically. This was it. This was it! This is what he needed!

“Yes, (Y/N). You’re so good to me! Take it! Take it!!”

With an animalistic roar, Namjoon shot his seed. It coated his body and even his blanket that he pushed aside in his lustful fever. The fireworks came to a close. His jagged breaths began to even themselves out. The angels stopped singing. He was alone once more… But he wouldn’t be for long.

Tears filled Namjoon’s vision as he looked at his clock. Time wasn’t important anymore… But you were. He was going to have you, and he was going to become number one again. Kim Namjoon was going to be your number one.

Just like that, the year of terror had come and gone. Now, a new year was upon you and another December along with it. You stared up at your dorm room’s ceiling with a dumb smile etched on your face. After all, that was the only expression you could possibly muster, given the circumstances. 

“Damn… What the hell happened to me?” Was all you managed to say as you turned onto your side. Your phone in hand, you scrolled through your photo gallery almost absentmindedly until you reached one particular photo. There you were at a carnival with the Devil incarnate, Kim Namjoon. Your eyes bright with glee at the large plush you held in one arm as you posed with Namjoon for a selfie.

You chuckled and zoomed in on the image with a wistful smirk. While you stared ahead at the camera, Namjoon stared at you with an expression that you didn’t even know that he possessed: pure, unadulterated admiration. You were almost inclined to call it love.

The past year and some change was a whirlwind. Your earliest memory of it consisted of finally coming to terms with the ecosystem at Mugunghwa, only to be faced with Namjoon and your whole world coming down. Students and staff alike scurried away from the dining area, not wanting to be a witness to a crime. You had gained new friends over the course of these months. They simply couldn’t stand to see your last moments on this earth in complete agony.

However, your death never came. Namjoon stood proudly in the now empty cafeteria, as if he relished in the fact that he could clear a room without uttering a single word.

“(Y/N) (L/N). It’s so good to finally put a name to a face… And what a lovely face it is…”

If Namjoon wasn’t going to kill you, the water lodged in your windpipe at his words would. You sputtered, hands waving as you choked on your water. Suddenly, Namjoon came behind you and swiftly patted your back. Once you could breathe again, you wiped at your tear-filled eyes and peered up at him. “I’m sorry… What?”

Namjoon returned to his original position in front of you with a smirk. Pulling out a chair, he sat down with the practiced air of a businessman about to make a deal. “I called you beautiful. I do hope that wasn’t too forward.”

Now, you were suspicious. Satan himself had saved you from choking and was now calling you attractive? Were you dead? Did you imagine Namjoon helping you as a last-ditch effort to survive somehow? Was that the image your brain created as you slipped away into the world of the dead? But this was reality. Something deep down told you that you weren’t dying or dreaming.

“Forgive my skepticism, but I highly doubt that you came to exchange compliments. What do you want, Kim Namjoon?” You asked icily. The male in front of you visibly recoiled at your tone, as if he didn’t factor in the possibility that you could speak with such a tone. He quickly recovered, however, and he began his pitch.

“You’re half right, (Y/N). I didn’t come here to only compliment you, but I came here to have a discussion that is long overdue. At my core, I am a businessman. I make deals, I negotiate. That’s what I’m here to do.” Namjoon stated simply. Looking deeply into his eyes, he didn’t show any signs of insincerity, but that’s to be expected. He’s been trained his entire life to hiding his true intentions behind an amicable facade, regardless of how nefarious his plans may or may not be.

“I see… What is it that you wish to discuss? I’m afraid that I’m not as well-versed in business etiquette as you, so please forgive me for any mistakes or slip-ups that I may make. That being said, this is not an invitation to walk all over me. I may be inexperienced, but I am by no means an idiot.”

Could you be any more perfect for him? A beautiful face and body, poise and grace, and the courage to hold her own in a negotiation? Not to mention, the colors were swirling around you and blooming delicately in such a comforting fashion. He was absolutely smitten.

“I wouldn’t dare make the mistake of calling someone who replaced me as top dog an idiot. Give me some credit. I’m not as vile as the university’s tall tales make me out to be. I’m sure that my cousin, Taehyung, could vouch for me.”

You bristled at the mention of Taehyung. What had he done to him? Did something happen? No, that couldn’t be. You had just finished your show with Tae only a half hour ago. Surely, that isn’t enough time for him to get into any trouble, right?

“Calm down, (Y/N). Nothing’s happened to him. I can see the wheels turning in your head. My cousin is safe and sound. I can even call him up for you, if you don’t believe me.” Namjoon said smoothly, already fishing his phone out of his designer coat’s pocket.

“No, that’s fine…” You swallowed and regained your composure. Once you were calmed down, you returned Namjoon’s gaze. “I’m sure he’s alright. If anything, I’ll call him later. Right now, this is more important.”

Namjoon put his phone away and leaned back in his chair whilst giving a dismissive wave of his hand. Hopefully, the display of nonchalance would mask the sheer excitement and feverish nervousness he felt from being so close to you. Hearing your voice was like hearing the soothing melodies of birdsong in the morning. His heart soared at the mere act of being in your presence.

“Very well. I came here to apologize. You see, I’m well aware of the distress to you and everyone here at Mugunghwa that I’ve caused, and for that, I’m sorry.”

You could have died right there. Kim Namjoon? Apologizing? And apologizing to you, no less?! The infamous heir to Kim Industries, known for the downfall of any and everyone who dared impede his goals was apologizing to you?!

“Please, (Y/N). Forgive me. It’s just that losing to you has put my life into perspective. Yes, I was the head of our class, but what did that mean? Why was I fighting so hard to keep a title that in the long run, means so little? What was the point if I had no one to share it with?”

“What the hell are you getting at, Kim? I fail to see what this has to do with conducting business.”

As precious as you were to him, Namjoon despised your tone. If you were to be his, that sharp tongue would have to be dealt with. Besides, in that instant, you reminded him of his lowlife father. That certainly wouldn’t do. His queen should never adopt the mannerisms of Kim Joonho. Never. Ever. You were to whisper sweet nothings into his ear while he reciprocated. You were to never take such a tone with him ever again.

“I was rambling, so I’ll forgive that insolent remark of yours just this once. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Namjoon stated darkly.

Not wanting to push your luck, you relented. You were actually talking to Kim Namjoon. You couldn’t afford to ruin an opportunity like this.

“Right.” He resumed “The truth is that I’ve been watching you for quite some time. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do anymore. You’ve occupied every inch of my mind, and I just wanted to ask if you’d be mine, (Y/N).”

You sat there, slack-jawed. Was he serious?! What was happening?

“You’re joking… There’s no way that you could be serious. There’s no fucking way!”

“I am. I’ve done some soul-searching recently, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you are what I’ve been fighting for all this time. Not a damn class rank. I’ve been fighting for love, affection, understanding… And I believe that I can find all of that in you.”

“You… What…? I- How?”

“February 14, a dozen red roses were waiting for you on your desk in your dorm. With them, was a card addressed to you from a secret admirer. March 14, a diamond necklace was gifted to you for White Day by a secret admirer. And now, these.”

Namjoon produced a stack of envelopes bound by a black silk ribbon from his jacket pocket.

“These are from me. You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). Can you tell me who your secret admirer is?”

That was April. After a few talks with your co-host and having to sit through embarrassing stories of their childhoods, you finally took the leap and went out on a date with Namjoon… And you were the happiest you’ve ever been. The large stuffed animal that Namjoon had won you sat on a bookshelf, next to several other trinkets he had given you over the months you had dated.

You chuckled to yourself at the memory and closed your photos app. After which, you opened up your messaging app to shoot a quick text to Namjoon. That was until, you got a notification reading,

KIM INDUSTRIES CEO, KIM JOONHO FOUND DEAD IN HIS WINTER ESTATE.

Without thinking, you dialed Namjoon’s number and was greeted by a somber moan answering the phone.

“Namjoon, baby, I’m so sorry… I just saw the news.”

A sniff. “Hey. So the news outlets already published the story, huh? I should have known that it wouldn’t take long… They could at least have the common decency of letting his corpse grow cold first before they publicize it.” Namjoon chuckled humorlessly.

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t imagine going through the sudden shock of losing your parent, only to deal with the press soon afterward. You sensed that Namjoon needed some time to himself to grieve, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

“Yeah, it’s shitty what they’re doing. And to think that I’m going into that profession. It’s crazy.”

“It is what it is, (Y/N). Besides, I have faith that you’ll be one of the good journalists that don’t try to weave everything that they hear into lies and defamation.” He said earnestly.

Something about the way Namjoon spoke was unnerving. He didn’t sound like someone who was mourning their late father, but then again, he might have been in shock. His apathetic demeanor on the matter must have been a coping mechanism. After all, losing your father so suddenly is a lot to process.

All you could do is hum in response. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so, dear.”

A pregnant pause.

“Hey, (Y/N). I know this sounds horribly insensitive, but, can we still have our dinner date at my mansion? It’s just that I can’t bear to be alone right now, and you’re the only person I’ve been able to trust lately. It doesn’t have to be a date. I guess I just want you to come over.”

Your heart shattered into smithereens. He was alone and scared. Namjoon had no one to trust or turn to in his time of need, yet he found it within his heart to ask you. Who were you to refuse?

“Alright. I’ll go. Same time?”

He didn’t have to say a word, but you could hear his dimpled smile some out to play.

“Y-yes, yes, of course! Same time! Thank you so much, (Y/N). You don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Alright, see you soon. Bye.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh and faced your closet. You had exactly two hours to get ready for dinner. You had two hours to prepare…

And so did Namjoon.

Once again, Namjoon was summoned to his father’s study. He was expecting it sooner or later. His class rank hadn’t improved since his father sent him to take his top spot back by any means necessary, but you were number one now. Namjoon wouldn’t dare dethrone his goddess from her rightful pedestal.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was upon opening the large doors a swift slap coming across his face.

“You useless, useless brat! You can’t even eliminate a simple girl?! You can’t even reclaim your title?! How am I supposed to leave my estate and company in such incapable hands?!”

Joonho was fuming. His once pride and joy had betrayed him and disappointed him. How dare he? Namjoon sat on the floor, gingerly rubbing his cheek. He was sure his father’s handprint was burned into his flesh.

“I swear, you’re incompetent just like your brother! He disappointed me, and look at where he is now! I should have known that it was too good to be true.”

At the mention of his brother, Namjoon’s body stiffened.

“All of this. You’re ruining your life and your career all for some girl?! You’re willing to throw away what I’ve essentially bred you for, all for some lowlife pussy?!”

At the mention of you, Namjoon began to see red.

“I suppose I’ve been too lenient on you. I should have known that you would flounder. Maybe I’ll get rid of (Y/N) myself. It’s clear that she means a lot to you. Maybe you’ll get back in line once she perishes.”

That was the final straw. With pure rage fueling his every cell, Namjoon sprinted over to his father’s desk and grabbed his letter opener.

“Say it again, bastard! Say it again!”

Now, Joonho’s figure was dissolving into a crimson blob. All of his human like features were gone in a furious red haze. Kim Joonho wasn’t his father anymore. He wasn’t even human. 

He was the enemy.

Without giving his father a chance to speak, Namjoon plunged the letter opener into the older man’s eye sockets. After that, it was a blur. Hours had seemingly passed and Kim Joonho was nothing but a human pincushion. Stab wounds littered his body, and blood was oozing out of every one. With a satisfied grin, Namjoon stood and cupped a crimson hand to his face.

“Seokjin! Seokjin! Come down here!”

The head butler rushed in the study and into the carnage. The older male was mortified at the bloodbath before him, but he couldn’t help the relieved smile and tears of joy forming in his tear ducts.

“Brother, come help me clean up father. Unless, of course, you have some words for him?”

Seokjin carefully approached his father’s corpse and smiled wickedly. He placed a gloved hand on his eyeless face.

“You’ve disappointed me, Joonho. And now look where that’s brought you. My transgressions against you warranted that I were to be stripped of my place in the world as your son, only to become your servant. Your transgressions warranted your death at the hands of your prodigy. Isn’t that poetic justice? Sleep well, father.”

“Master Namjoon will be down in a moment.” A maid stated as she had you seated.

A white cloth napkin was folded and placed on your lap while you got comfortable in the antique dining chair. Staff hurried to and fro to finish preparing for your meal, and it was almost amusing seeing them rush around like busy worker bees instead of the esteemed staff of the Kim Manor.

A few moments ticked away before Namjoon made his appearance. He was elegantly clad in a designer Armani suit, giving a regal and princely appearance as he made his way over to you from the grand foyer.

“Please forgive me, dear. I had some business to attend to.”

Namjoon outstretched his arms, motioning for you to give him a hug. You happily obliged.

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” You cheekily giggled. If you ignored the whole dead dad situation, the whole scene would appear wholesomely domestic. You decided to indulge in that notion.

Namjoon’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting. I hope that we can make up for lost time during dinner, yeah?”

You nodded and sat down in your chair. Namjoon was seated right beside you. As if on cue, the staff brought in your dishes. A classic Christmas dinner, consisting of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, ham, and vegetables was placed in front of you. On a small dish nearby, some cranberry jelly sat. You tried to hide the grimace at the red jelly. You were by no means a fan of the garnish, but you didn’t want to appear picky or ungrateful, especially considering the reason why you were having dinner with Namjoon in the first place.

Ever the attentive partner, Namjoon was keen on noticing your inner turmoil. “Is something not to your liking?”

“Uh, it’s just… I don’t really like cranberry jelly… That’s all.”

Namjoon looked utterly dumbfounded before letting out a joyful, booming laugh. “That’s all? Oh, (Y/N). You had me worried! I thought that I’d ruined the whole meal for you!”

His fork stabbed into a piece of turkey and he dipped the meat into the red gelatin.

“But, please do try the jelly. My brother and I, we made it for this occasion. I promise it’s nothing like the canned slop they sell in grocery stores.”

Namjoon made this? Now, this you had to try.

“Alright. Since you went through the effort of making it, I’ll give it a shot.”

You copied Namjoon’s actions of taking a slice of turkey and dipping it in the cranberry jelly. With the expression of a chef on Chopped, Namjoon eagerly watched as you placed the food in your mouth.

“Mmm! This is delicious! Namjoon, you should sell this! This is amazing!”

Another laugh came from Namjoon, although, this one had an arguably maniacal lilt. “Why, thank you, but I’m afraid that this specific batch is one of a kind. Besides, cranberry jelly isn’t the most profitable market out there.”

Little did you know that you had just ingested Kim Joonho’s coagulated blood. Perhaps that was why his cranberry jelly was one of a kind.

Merry Christmas.

[the-lady-writes-what]

Gilded Cage, Part One

Summary:

Keigo Takami, AKA Hawks, has turned villain and you don't know why. After a run-in with the League of Villains, you give chase after the former hero. When you end up taking a bullet to the knee, you're surprised that Keigo not only left you alive, but has taken you to his secret lair. He's built a special cage for you. He says it's to keep the League from coming after you, but you can't help but wonder if it's true or if he just wants you for himself.

Content: Kidnapping Sorry. No smut this time, but it'll be in the next one. Stay tuned

Villain!Hawks x Hero!Reader

(You're a pro-hero whose quirk is basically bending metal. Think Toph Beifong from Avatar: The Last Airbender)

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

This part does not contain smut (See above mentioned note). For smut, please follow the links for Parts 2 and 3

                                                       ---080---

It was hard to walk down the halls of Endeavor’s agency these days. The news of Keigo Takami’s, also known as Hawks, betrayal hit Japan’s hero world like a tsunami. It turned into a question of who the next hero will be to go against their moral code and become a villain. Your workload had increased in the drama and paranoia that followed after Keigo’s sudden villainous change. Endeavor worked you down to the bone, but that was because he must have seen you as useful. Your hero name? Iron Maiden on account of your ability to bend metal, such as iron, steel, and copper. Netting bad guys was a whole lot easier when you could wrap them in a fence or trap them with a lamppost.

You finished the afternoon’s paperwork before heading to the breakroom for some lukewarm coffee. You half-expected Keigo to be sitting on the counter where you used to find him. He used to be a fan of Endeavor’s, so he frequented the agency whenever he felt like it. Of all the time you got to see him, it became evident that he wasn’t there to goof around Endeavor’s office. You should have known better than to encourage his casual flirting, but you couldn’t help yourself. Keigo was the first guy who turned your way after a dry spell in the romance department. It had been months since you last had a date, and even if Keigo was joking, it was nice to have a conversation with someone that didn’t involve hero work.

If only you knew back then that his over-confident smile belied an insidious plan to turn to the other side.

Keigo didn’t hurt people. Much. It wasn’t a great comfort to know that he at least didn’t go around murdering people as soon as he became a villain. That didn’t change the fact that he had become one of them. He robbed banks, caused collateral damage to the cityscape, and set the hero society into panic mode. Nobody knew who would switch sides. Heroes and civilians were starting to look at each other with suspicious eyes ever since.

You fixed yourself a cup of coffee when the cellphone on your hip went off. You immediately stopped what you were doing to pick it up. Shocked, you found your boss’s name and number on the screen. You didn’t hesitate to hit ‘receive.’

Endeavor’s voice came loud and clear, even over the sounds of fighting.

“We need you over by Central Park. Takami’s new crew showed up, and we need your quirk to help round them up!”

“On my way, sir.”

Central Park was at least ten miles from your location. Even if you speed, you won’t make it there on time by car. Not this close to rush hour. Of course, you had other methods of getting to where you needed to go. You pried open the nearest window and lept threw it. Part of your hero costume involved strips of steel wire you could sling around with like that American comic book character. Sailing over the city and swinging in between buildings was much faster than any car. You arrived at the scene with the villains terrorizing civilians trying to enjoy their day at the park. You spotted three of them charging at you as soon as you hit the ground. They were nothing but mooks. Clustered together, it was quick work wrapping them in a bundle of wire. You spotted others and repeated the process. Keigo was nowhere in sight. You heard the sound of flames engulfing the trees. Pillars of red and blue flames shot up in the distance. You found heroes to take care of the villains you’d already captured before heading towards what should have been the epicenter of the fighting. Endeavor was busy with Dabi, and there seemed to be no other villains in sight. Still no sign of Keigo anywhere.

“Endeavor!”

You dodged a blue fireball just in time. You hoped that Endeavor would order you to go elsewhere. Five more minutes, and you’d be cooking in your costume.

“Takami headed west. I leave it to you to apprehend him!” Endeavor was so focused on his opponent that he didn’t turn towards you when he gave the order.

You had to dodge more flames, both Dabi’s and Endeavor’s, to head towards Keigo’s last known whereabouts. Away from the smoke and flames, you found a trail of red feathers. There was a moment where you stopped to wonder if Keigo had been injured and left behind some feathers by mistake or if he was deliberately mocking you. However, you didn’t have a moment to linger on that. You followed the trail of feathers regardless if it was a plot.

Keigo made it easy for you to follow. That should have been your first red flag. You were so focused on getting him in handcuffs that the apparent beeline to him was so fucking clear as day. You picked up the feathers as you went. You had a fistful in each hand by the time you reached the end of the park. Your trail went ice cold.

That is until you spotted the shadow of bird wings graze above you. Your head whipped to the sky. Hawks swooped down, nearly knocking you down to the ground. His wings grazed you. He perched himself on a branch far above you.

His appearance was vastly different from the last time you saw him. He wore an all-black suit with a red and gold tie. Pewter rings were on his fingers. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, but his smile was the most unnerving thing about him. You lashed outwards with your arms, the metal from your gauntlets catching him by the ankles.

“Keigo Takami, you’re under arrest. You have the right to—”

Keigo didn’t let the mild impairment weigh him down. His wings couldn’t be easily held down by you. He flew straight towards you. His height never hid the fact that he was powerful. He plowed you into the ground. The wires unwhirled around his feet and let him soar above you.

“Get back down here, bird brain!” You lashed out your wires again in hopes of pulling him back down to earth.

Each time Keigo moves just a little bit out of reach. You already spent so much on capturing those D-level cronies that you didn’t stop to think of conserving your limited amount of iron wire. Keigo’s wings took him high above to where your weapon couldn’t reach him. He smirked down at you before taking off.

You ran after him, going so far as to hopping over the chain-link fence and following on foot. Your wires came in handy twice today as you soared from lamppost to lamppost, tracking Keigo’s aerial movements. Citizens yelled words of encouragement as you chased after Japan’s new most wanted criminal. The air stung your cheeks, and you could feel your eyes watering as you sped faster between rooftops.

Keigo made the mistake of flying to close to the building whose roof you just scaled. There was a split-second decision. You could stop and let him get away, or you could take the chance. You lunged for him, limbs scrambling through the air to find purchase. Your hands grabbed his suit jacket. Hauling yourself upon his back, you managed to secure your legs around him and put his neck in a headlock.

“As I said before, you’re under arrest!” You screamed as the wind busted your eardrums.

Keigo merely looked over his shoulder at you. His smile was cheeky as ever.

“Really, Princess? The way I see it…you’re the one at my mercy. Unless you got a plan to get us both safely on the ground without bashing our brains on the concrete.”

You growled as Keigo caught you. You didn’t think this far ahead.

You screamed as Keigo flew up towards the sun at lightning speed. Light burning your eyes, you had no choice but to shield them. Keigo used your distraction as the opportunity to shift your weight off his back. All too late, you felt your legs and arms loosen around him. Soon you were plummeting back to the ground. With any luck, your wires would find purchase on something and save you from falling to your death at the last minute. At the rate you were falling, good luck.

You were ten feet from meeting a concrete rooftop when Keigo reappeared. He wrapped you in his arms almost in a possessive manner.

“You’re way too pretty to let splatter. Come on. I’ve got a much better place to finish this!”

His clever hands worked your phone from your belt. Keigo dropped it on the ground, where it shattered several feet below you. Your only chance of survival was to let him take you where he wanted and not get your brains to plaster the sidewalk. His wings soared over the city. You once imagined being in his arms like this. It only made your stomach churn with the thought of what he was going to do to you once you were where he wanted you.

Keigo dropped down in the industrial district. Factories surrounded you. The smell of iron and diesel filled your lungs. But of all the places he picked, why did Keigo go where you had the most advantage? Didn’t he realize that with all of this metal, you were the one with the home-field edge? You didn’t have the time to ask or react when he pulled out the gun from his jacket.

In a flash, your life flashed in your mind. You didn’t stand there waiting to die. At least, you were going to make sure they say you died fighting to your last breath. You charged for Keigo, metal whips whirring to life.

BANG!

It was over. Except instead of sweet oblivion that came with death, you found yourself bleeding on the ground. Your blood pooled around your knee, where he shot you. The pain was exquisite as the bullet lodged itself in your knee cap. You weren’t going to be standing on that leg for a very long time; you could forget about fighting. Keigo’s black shoes came into your line of vision. From shock, you got onto your elbows to look at the bastard.

“What…the hell?” You ground your teeth. “I didn’t picture…you to be the sadist. Going to kill…me…slowly? Is that how you roll now?”

Keigo put his gun away. Then, he reached into the other side of his jacket. When his hand came away this time, he held a syringe.

“That was just to keep you from fighting me. I’m going to get you patched up real quick. Just as soon as I give you your medicine.”

Keigo was faster than you. Your hand shot up to grab him, but the needle was already in your neck. He squeezed the trigger and pumped you full of the drug. It took a few minutes for it to kick in. By the time he had you in his arms again, your head was spinning. A moment later, you finally found that oblivion you were looking for earlier. This time, you were reasonably sure you’d wake up this time, and you weren’t going to know where he was taking you. And that was the scariest thought you had before passing out in the former hero’s arms.

When you woke up, you noticed the stiffness in your leg. Your favorite color draped the bed you laid in. Your hero’s costume was gone and replaced with a negligee you wouldn’t own even if you had a boyfriend. It, too, was in your favorite color. The lace hem barely touched your upper thigh.

Further down, your right leg was held in a cast. Your foot rested on a pillow. As your vision cleared, you got a better picture of where you were.

It could have been described as a room if only it had more than one wall. Where plaster walls should have been, stood solid gold bars. The floors were marble tiles. There was a dresser, a desk, a lavish set up on a vanity, and a familiar coffee table on which sat a widescreen T.V. Every item in your cell was made of either wood, fiber, plastic, or metal you couldn’t bend, including the bars. Squeezed between the actual wall and the cell bars stood a small room. With its door closed, so you couldn’t discern its purpose yet. Footsteps came down the hallway. They rounded the corner. Keigo smiled at you like you were a pretty bird in his cage.

“You’ve been asleep for a while now. Doc had to give you an extra shot so you wouldn’t wake up in the middle of your surgery. Sorry I had to bust your knee cap. You can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“Why am I in a cage? Why am I dressed like this? Just what the hell are you on?” You started to get up from the bed, but it was difficult to swing your leg over the bed when it was in a cast.

“In reverse order,” said Keigo, “I’m not on any drugs. I thought you would look cute in that negligee, and it’s in your favorite color. I put you here for your protection, and honestly, you look damn good in it.”

“Why? Why the hell did you do any of this?” You still struggled to move your damn leg.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’d hate to come in there and show you why.”

His eyes held a glimmer of that charm you once fell for, but there was a predatory light that eclipsed it. Keigo leaned against the bars, stroking the beams.

“Solid gold. It took me a long time to find enough money and resources to build this thing. A pretty little cage for my pretty little bird.”

“Just how long have you been saving?” You wanted to know how long he had wanted to put you in here, yet you still dreaded his answer.

“A couple of years. My original idea was to take us on a cruise. It probably would have been much more romantic, but things come up. You change your plans. Ideals become tainted, and you have to find new ones.”

“What happened to you? You were the number two hero! Some so many people looked up to you. There are still people who believe that this is just a rouse to capture the League of Villains. How could you do that? How could you betray everyone’s trust?”

Keigo didn’t say anything. He held his head down as if lost in the thought. He braced his forearm against the bars as he leaned his head against his arm. Inhaling a long breath,

Keigo let out an aggravated sigh. When he looked up at you, you saw a different man. “Let me ask you this, Princess. How could somebody’s parents sell their kid to the government? How could anyone take a small kid and turn them into a child soldier? For what? So they can pat themselves on the back and say that they’re morally superior to the villains. They take kids from their parents and steal their childhood. And when those kids grow into adults and realize what a shitty system they were raised in, they stare up at you surprised that you had enough of their bullshit.”

“T-Takami…”

“I realized too late that everything that was supposed to be mine was taken from me. My family. My name. My childhood. For what? So I can be number two behind a man like Endeavor. Have you spent time with the bastard? I never noticed it before, but all of a sudden, it becomes clear that society cares less about a hero’s moral code and more about their ability to beat down the nail that sticks out. Ever wonder how his youngest got that scar?”

You nodded. You vaguely remember hearing Endeavor talk about his youngest son.

“It turns out Endeavor pushed his wife around so much that she went mental. She burned the side of Shoto’s face because it reminded her of the man who knocked her around and forced to have his four kids. Does that sound like hero material to you?”

Blood drained from your face. It made sense…in a way. You never met Endeavor’s youngest, so you couldn’t verify the truth or not. For all you knew, Keigo was pulling it out of his ass to make you sympathize with him.

“Why didn’t you go to the authorities? There must have been someone who would have investigated it.”

“By the time I found out, nobody would have believed me at any rate. Endeavor might be a bastard, but he’s still the number one hero. I’m just the rejected garbage the Safety Commission doesn’t want to clean up.” Keigo unlocked the door to your cage.

“Why are you telling me this then?”

Keigo crossed the “room” and picked you up from the bed. You couldn’t move your leg without feeling a jolt of pain go up to your thigh. There was no way for you to struggle. “Because I made a deal with the League. As long as I keep you by my side and you don’t go anywhere, they won’t touch you or your family. I’m afraid you won’t be seeing much of the outside world for a while. At least until Shigaraki accomplishes his goals.”

“You know he’s crazy, right?” You sneered.

“Yeah. Little bit. He’s also the first person who made any damn sense when I realized how badly they screwed me over,” said Keigo as he carried you down the hall.

There were a few rooms that he walked past, but he stopped at the end of the hall. He kicked it open. Your heart fluttered like you were his bride; he carried over the threshold. Your stomach churned with guilt rotting inside it. You shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts for the man who turned into a villain and kidnapped you. He confessed to planning to keep you as a prisoner for however long it took for that maniac Shigaraki to complete his mission.

Keigo brought you to an actual bedroom. It was a little more sparse than the cage he planned to keep you in. He must have spent more on you than himself. Looking around, the bedroom contained a giant bed and little else. He had you sit on the bed for a moment. Keigo pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows before gently grabbing you and laying you out. There was a contraption hanging from the ceiling that he pulled down using a thick cord. He slipped your leg into a sling and adjusted it to your comfort before Keigo left you to pull clothes from the dresser. He disappeared into the adjacent bathroom didn’t return until he was half-dressed in a pair of black sweatpants.

Small scars littered his chest and shoulders. From what, you dared not ask. You remembered his words about a stolen childhood to be raised as a soldier. You wondered if they were true. Your mind was plunged headfirst back into the present when Keigo crawled under the sheets with you. Your face went red.

“Relax, Princess. I’m not going to do anything,” he mumbled. He turned off the lights.

“Then why am I dressed like this?” You asked in the dark.

You felt Keigo’s weight make the bed dip. He settled on his side so he could snake his arm around your waist. He snuggled uncomfortably close, but he kept his hands mostly to himself or above the blanket.

“Because you look damn cute in (fave color). I like looking at you.”

His breath against your skin created goosebumps in its wake. Your eyes eventually closed to sleep. As you drifted off, you asked yourself: How long could you live like this?

                                                       ---080---

[levisnackajack]

The Wrath of War

Chapter Nine

An hour into open territory and Eden began noticing the sky filling up red flares. She swallowed hard, urging her horse to continue matching her squad’s pace. 

They persistently switched courses, avoiding as many titans as they could. Eden felt like her heart was stuck in her throat as she watched a thick forest filled with immensely large trees edge closer and closer to them. Deep within her bones, she felt like something was terribly wrong. 

It was going so well until Erwin commanded Levi’s squad, along with the central column wagon escorts carrying some type of special target restraining weapons to enter the forest. Everyone did as they were told and Eden looked back to meet Eren’s cautious stare, only to get wacked across the head by Oluo as he told her to focus. 

The deeper their horses led them into the forest, the more uneasy Eden began feeling. Suddenly, the razor sharp sounds of ODM gear sliced through the air as two Scouts appeared behind the squad. Eden craned her neck as she watched over her shoulder, her heart faltering at the skinless titan with straw-colored hair and piercing blue eyes. 

She gasped as the female titan swatted the two aerial scouts like flies; the sound of their bones crunching against the trees mentally imprinting in her mind. It sprinted towards them, its physique athletic and lean, as though it was going on an afternoon jog. 

“Captain! Tell us your orders, sir, it’s catching up with us!” Petra shrieked beside her, the panic in her voice thinly veiled. The rest of the squad began voicing their concerns, each individual holding a different essence of panic in their tones as they pleaded for Levi to give them the green light. 

Eld Jinn pulled his blades out, fingers holding onto the handles tightly as he cursed the female titan in a venomous voice. Eren started voicing his own thoughts as he fought a battle of his own- unsure as to who he could trust. That was when Levi whipped his head to glance at the titan for the first time, his hooded stare giving away nothing but boredom. It made Eden feel reassured that he probably knew what was to happen. 

But, who’s to say that those narrowed grey eyes kept well-concealed panic within the Captain himself? She chose to completely disregard that thought for her own comfort. 

“Everyone, cover your ears,” Levi barked out over the sound of the horses’ hooves coming into contact with the Earth floor. They all followed his instructions as he pulled out a sound grenade. 

The blast reverberated through Eden’s core as it echoed into her brain, the sound waves hurting her covered ears. She waited for Levi to signal for them to switch to ODM; but his voice never broke the deafening silence between the comrades. She looked back at Eren with wide, hazel eyes- the way his brain was visibly processing everything as his palm inched closer to his lips. 

She listened to Petra’s pleading, her beautiful amber eyes filled with tenderness as she begged Eren to trust his team. Their goal was to protect Eren- as Levi had said- and his well-articulated speech directed to the young boy resonated deep within the young girl’s soul. Eren had the power to transform into a ravenous beast once his teeth grazed the soft flesh of his hand. But instead, he chose to sit back nervously and trust his Captain’s judgement. 

Truth be told, it shocked Eden. The boy she had grown up with was an impulsive wreck on the verge of a breakdown at any given moment. He thought with his heart, not with his brain. And to see him falter like that truly made her think just how much trust her comrades had in Levi.

She looked upwards, the muscled fist of the female titan wide open as it stretched towards Eren. Eden gripped her horse’s reins tighter. 

Then it all happened so quickly. 

The sounds of canon fire seeped through the air like a never-ending parade of lightning bolts. Flashes of yellow, orange, red and white danced around Eden as her mouth dropped. 

It had all been a well-designed trap. Levi’s silence had paid off. The trees surrounding them were filled with veteran scouts, hands pressed against the canons filled with rope that had struck the female titan in every single open area against her skin. 

They rode in silence for a little while; away from the entrapped beast. 

“Halt further upwards and switch to ODM gear,” Levi commanded, his voice calm and collected as his boots pressed against his horse’s saddle. “I’ll need to break away for awhile. Eld’s in charge. Keep Eren hidden.” His eyes moved to meet with Eden’s pained ones, as though realization that they were about to be truly alone crept into her. “And tend to my horse.” 

He flexed his gear’s grapples, the hooks ripping through a nearby tree bark; whisking him back towards the female titan. 

Eden held onto her breath until her lungs started burning, her stomach churning uncomfortably. She felt nauseous. 

“A spy. Are you sure?” Gunther’s question had ripped Eden out of a trance as they stood atop several tree branches; fists clenching against their blades.

“Well, no. But I’m sure Commander Erwin believes it. Think about it, Captain Levi had us use Eren as bait for the sole purpose of leading the titan into the trap created by the Commander. Seems to me there’s some sort of suspicions going on within the upper ranks. What if there’s someone else who possesses the same titan abilities as Eren?” Eld replied thoughtfully, stroking his chin as he spoke.

“Maybe the reason why he didn’t let you in on the plan was not because he doesn’t trust you, but because they were uncertain as to where this titan spy was placed within the ranks?” Eden continued, earning an astute nod from the second-in-command and Petra. 

Oluo scoffed, waving his weapons in the air towards Petra. “You see that, snivel-drops? Even our newbie doll over here cooked up a better assumption than you.” 

Petra rubbed the back of her neck, closing her eyes as she sighed. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I was wrong for questioning the Commander and Captain’s trust in us.” 

The chattering continued for a few more minutes until Eld instructed them to move.

They switched to ODM gear, soaring from branch to branch as they glanced up at the sky expectantly. A green flare painted a line through the sky. 

“Must be the Captain,” Eld muttered as he shot a green flare in response, letting the rest of the squad members know their course had changed. 

Eden’s sweaty palms gripped on her gear for dear life as she elegantly swooped from one branch to another; careful not to waste too much gas. That knot in her stomach continued tightening and growing; reaching her lungs as she struggled to control her breathing. 

The ghost of goosebumps licked against her skin as she noticed an extra person edging closer to her squad, blades extracted. Her scream left her throat a moment too late as the traitor’s weapon sliced against the thin flesh on Gunther’s throat. 

Everything after that was clouded by a blur of emotions and adrenaline. Eld had shoved Eren forward as he yelled for him to keep going. Eden bit her lip as she commanded herself to stay strong; the sight of Gunther’s hanging corpse becoming smaller as they sliced through the air at immaculate speed. 

“Go Eren, get back to the Scouts. We’ve got this!” Eld commanded in a hard voice, Eren’s deep-blue eyes seeking refuge in Eden’s hazel ones. 

“I can’t leave you here, I’ll fight too...-”

“After everything, do you still not trus...-”

“Eren, if you want to reach your goal. You’ll leave,” Eden spat out, interrupting Petra harshly. “You’ll go and leave it to the team designated with your protection to deal with this obstacle. Please, if you care about the promises you made me keep; that day in Shiganshina. The promises you made Armin and Mikasa swear to. If you really meant all of that, you’ll go...” Eden finished, her voice breaking. 

Eren looked like he was going through the greatest turmoil in existence. He gritted his teeth, eyes glistening as he nodded towards his comrades. Towards Eden. 

“I won’t let you down,” he forced out, memorizing the way Eden’s face contorted into a lopsided smile; her features relaxing. Suddenly, she looked like a normal 21-year old girl; her face rid from the agony that had become part of her everyday routine. 

“I know you won’t,” she whispered, her voice swept away by the forceful hands of the gushing wind. He continued onwards as the rest of the squad slowed down their gears. There was a crack and a bright light emitted through the fractures of space between the trees. Much like when Eren transformed into a titan. 

That couldn’t be good. 

The muscular form of the determined female titan came into sight as she charged towards the remainder of the Special Operations Squad. With a yell, they attached the hooks of their ODM gear to the upcoming trees, closing in on the titan. 

With Eld and Oluo flying in the titan’s eyeline, Petra and Eden lowered themselves a couple of meters above the ground. The men spiraled in the air, hooks sinking into the titans eye sockets as the two women worked on slowing her movements down. 

Blood splattered against Eden’s skin as her blade sliced through the tendons of the titan’s ankles, an exasperated cry seeping out of its wretched mouth. It grabbed onto Eden’s iron wires, yanking her away from her partially-severed foot; throwing her against a nearby tree column. She let out a bloodcurdling cry as she felt her ribs snap inside her chest, her eyesight beginning to blotch. She focused on her breathing, her lungs trembling at the pressure and pain. 

Eden didn’t have the power to pick herself up as she lay twisted against the floor. The familiar taste of metal engulfed her senses as the liquid trickled down her brow, staining her skin, lips and teeth. She felt so helpless, utterly vulnerable- served like a fresh meal on the decaying ground.

The sound of blades fracturing flesh sounded around Eden- her eyes squeezed shut as the blood and headache punctured her brain. She heard screams, first a female one...and then a male one calling after her. 

By the time she had managed to squeeze one eye open; her heart had dropped down to the pit of her stomach; the screech that came out of her lips terrifying and broken.

Petra’s body lay crushed up against a nearby tree, her soft, strawberry-blonde hair moving with the breeze. Oluo’s corpse settled against the ground several meters away from her. Eld was gone too. They had been defeated. 

Accepting that picking herself up on her two feet would be practically impossible; Eden dragged her body towards Petra’s; her salt tears mixing with her crimson blood. She didn’t even have enough power to cry out loud, for she had fallen into shock. 

Groaning and grinding her teeth, she pushed onwards; completely missing Eren’s transformation as he took on the female titan with vengeance oozing through his veins. 

Eden continued making her way to Petra when the sound of metal hooks clenched against the tree’s casing resonated beside her. A familiar harsh grip settled on her shoulders as he flipped her body around. 

She landed on her back, the sudden movement causing her to choke. Levi descended to his knees, his virulent eyes wide and blank. 

“What the hell happened here?” He snapped in an urgent tone as his gaze fell to Eden’s chest and the blood stains that would not evaporate. 

“I don’t know...we saw the flare. We figured you wanted to find us...turns out it was the titan in human form. It came and killed Gunther...then transformed...and...-” 

“Alright, take a breath. Are you badly hurt?” Levi’s jaw clenched as he watched Eden nod tightly, lips pursed as she bit back a cry.

“I’m not sure, Captain. I think my ribs are fractured, if not broken. If you can just help me up, I’ll finish the...-” 

“Like hell you are, brat,” Levi commanded, voice frigid and absolute as his fingers gently pressed against her shoulder. “I’ll see to Yeager. I want you to stay put; I’ll come get you when it’s done. And don’t you dare fall asleep,” he finished, scowling down at her the small sense of relief coiling within the Captain as his soldier gave him a tight nod. 

Within milliseconds; he disappeared towards the sounds of titan clashing into titan. Eden’s eyes dropped, but she shook her head to keep herself awake. She knew that in these instances, it was vital not to fall asleep. 

But as her eyes grew heavier and her fingers grew colder; that fact began completely slipping out of her mind. The last thing she could remember before her world got painted black were his stormy grey eyes that could see through everything, but reveal nothing.

Soothing movements rocked Eden out of her reverie. Her head was pounding and heavy; her ribs were crying and her heart was bleeding. 

She felt like a wreck as she slowly came back to consciousness. The horse’s hooves clashing against the even ground; distant, grim chattering and the sound of wagon wheels all overwhelming her at once. Eden shot forward, only to have her waist grabbed by the person behind her. He settled her back onto the saddle, gripping the horse’s reins from behind; his forearms brushing against her nonchalantly. 

The young girl glanced back and was met with Levi’s usual, indifferent stare. His physiognomy was so detached; as though they had just come back from regular sparring. 

“Stop moving before you topple off my horse. I have no interest in scraping the horse’s hooves for remnants of my cadet,” Levi huffed, his cloak’s hood framing his chiseled face as he silently urged the horse to pick up its speed. 

Eden looked back ahead, watching the wall edge closer and closer. 

Were they really back home? 

She paused, face contorting into a hurt expression. It doesn’t really matter. This was all for nothing. 

Walking through the city was hell on its own. The scrutinizing glares and judgmental eyes of the citizens pierced through Eden’s body. Levi had leaned over and muttered for her to ignore it all hardly tended her nerves. 

She kept her head trained forward as she listened to a male citizen push through the Regiment, conversating with the Captain directly. He was soft-spoken and his words were filled with pride. 

Then, he had uttered out her name. 

The name that had made Eden’s heart stop; her lungs fighting for air. 

He continued inquiring about her, only to be met with Levi’s screaming silence that had answered all of the citizen’s questions for him.

The following day, Eden lay in the infirmary part of the Scout Regiment’s headquarters. Eren was strapped to supplement tubes in the cot beside her, napping loudly. 

Jean came to surprise Eden in the morning. Historia, Connie and Sasha were also recruited by Levi to live in the castle. It was eerily strange having them around; as though they were cadets, fresh out of the Training Corps; eager to take down to world. 

There wasn’t much discussion, but from what Eden could remember, when Mikasa and Armin came to visit her; they had told her that Captain Levi had personally handpicked the remaining members of the 104th Training Corps, in order for them to train and protect Eren as Hange continues with their titan-shifting progress. 

As for Captain Levi; he was never around. At least not in the infirmary, anyway. He had dropped Eden off that same day and left without a word, or even a glance behind his shoulder. It stung Eden. 

“Did you hear that Captain Levi had a girlfriend?” 

“No- I think she was his fiancée.”

“What was her name?”

“Petra, I think? Petra Ral.” 

She listened to Sasha and Connie discuss the deceased girl as a chill struck through her. 

Were they sweethearts?

Eden gripped her sheets until her knuckles grew pale; a white, hot ball of fury coiling within her. She wordlessly fumed, her mind soaring from question to question. Why did she feel hurt and discomfort at the words uttered out by her comrades? 

Brushing the queries aside; Eden concluded with the fact that she was just mourning. With everything happening so quickly, the youthful cadet did not have enough time to properly grieve away her feelings.

But even Hange came to visit her in the infirmary. Could it be that he was blaming her for what happened to his squad...his beloved? 

Eden pulled up her oversized pajama shirt, her fingers gliding against the the black bruises starkly juxtaposing the porcelain skin on her torso. 

On the brink of being broken- just severely ruptured. The nurse told her to stay away from training for the time being and be careful when she moved around. 

But, as she lay in her cot seething and battered; she began feeling disgusted with herself. Levi had saved her from the same fate she was due to experience as her fallen comrades. And he hadn’t mentioned them at least once. 

Disregarding the miniscule voice squeaking in the back of her head to head back to the infirmary; Eden made her way through the coldness of the empty hallways and towards the Captain’s office. It was past twelve, so she had no fear of running into someone unexpected. And she was almost certain he was be still be up. 

She waited for his voice to invite her into his office and she saluted him after closing the door behind her. He waved her salute off with a tired hand, his fingers seeking refuge on the bridge of his nose. 

“What is it, brat?” 

Eden pursed her full lips, ignoring the growing pain in her temple. He looked almost as bad as her. The skin under his eyes a ghastly coal color, the way his brows scrunched in the center revealing a different, more unmasked side of him. 

Her charcoal locks swished against her shoulders as she made her way to his desk, arms folding awkwardly against her chest; careful not to meddle with the bandages under the thin fabric of her shirt. 

“I just came to ask you how you’re doing,” Eden said in a soft, almost gentle way. Levi finally looked up at her. 

“I’m fine,” he declared in an even tone; his expression a blank canvas that made Eden perceive that he could be feeling any type of way right now. But, she would never know. 

“I’m sorry the expedition was classed as a failure. I wish I could have done better...to help Eren...to help them...” Eden’s voice broke off in a whisper as she barely managed to finish the sentence. She felt as though she was at the brink of falling into a vortex of insanity; her heart couldn’t cope with the flickering images of her fallen squamates in her mind.

“You did what you could,” Levi stared up at her from his chair as he paused, lips pressing against his teacup. “There’s no point for you to start blaming yourself for things you can’t change.” 

Eden huffed, his insensitivity striking her across the face. She pushed the stray strands of hair behind her ears as she meticulously reflected on her next words. 

“I know- I mean- I’ve heard that you and Petra were close,” she rushed as he turned his frigid stare back to her face, “I understand if you think this is none of my business; but if you feel like you want to vent, I’m here to listen.” 

“Right. Is there anything else you need?” Levi asked slowly, almost as though it were a question. Eden couldn’t think properly in that moment as she began feeling that pit of anger and despair bubble up within her. She felt like this flame was too powerful for her to tame as it slurred within her circulatory system; making its way to every inch of her body. Every crevice was filled with this lawless, bewildering animosity that blocked her from thinking straight. 

She huffed, turning her back to Levi as she stalked towards the exit. Her fingers covered the doorknob, muscles pulling the heavy door open. But before she could stop her own actions; her arm slammed the door shut with a loud thud.

Twisting her body around in Levi’s direction; Eden’s eyes blazed with hot fury and torment as she strode over to his desk. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She yelled at him, her ribs pressing against her lungs in a twisted way; the reaction resulting with her almond eyes brimming with tears. Levi’s lips parted slightly, the frown growing deeper, his eyes widening slightly.

 “No no, I mean it, what the hell is wrong with you? How can you sit there, commanding everyone to clean and train and prepare for the worst when you lost your entire squad?” Her voice was filled with emotions, her heart palpitating in her chest, so hard she could barely hear herself over the sound of her blood rushing. “It’s all about trust and being a team; but when they are gone, you suddenly stop giving a shit? I haven’t even being in your team for that long; I understand if expecting you to at least ask me how I’m feeling could be a little far-fetched; but what about Oluo? And Gunther and Eld? And Petra?” Eden cried as he slowly stood up, his left eye twitching as though he was ready to beat her to death. 

“I don’t know who the fuck placed all these fairytales in your head, but you need to calm down and start thinking straight,” Levi warned her in a low, phlegmatic way. 

She let out a heartsick laugh. “That’s a twisted way of -once again- avoiding your emotions. How can you be so heartless...-” 

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Levi barked out, catching the way she flinched at his tone. “You know absolutely nothing about the way I feel. How can you stand here whining because I didn’t physically show you my grief?”

 With a few long strides; Levi stood before the quivering girl. He clutched her by the jaw, shaking her as he yelled in her face. “You don’t know how many people I’ve watched die. You have absolutely no idea how it feels knowing that the people you were once in charge of are now dead.” 

Levi roughly let go of a distraught Eden and she winced as her heart clenched painfully. “Didn’t you come to me saying you feel this weight of responsibility on your shoulders? I thought you- of all people- would understand the pressure of obligation meant,” the Captain spat at her, his voice dripping with venom.

And torment? 

Eden couldn’t believe her Captain. She stood there trembling and thrashing back at the images of her fallen comrades as they flickered through her mind as though they were imprinted into an album. 

Levi watched her carefully with his peripheral vision. Eden walked back towards him, jabbing a finger against his chest as the tears began flowing down her cheeks. “You don’t get to guilt trip me into feeling shitty for coming to you now. Or that night. And maybe I don’t know what it must feel like to lose people over and over again; but when I do lose someone I care about; I can’t exactly keep a blank face on and go around telling people to clean the second floor for the third fucking time that day because you miraculously found one speck of dust on the staircase railing.” Her jabs turned into shoves as she let out an overpowered cry. 

It was all too much. His eyes, his apathetic voice, Petra’s smile long-gone, even Oluo’s frustrating quips. Eden’s knees weakened as she felt him grip her biceps; the devastated sobs coming out one after the other. It was the type of pain that clenched her heart until she physically couldn’t think properly- knowing there was nothing else to be done but accept the fact that she needs to move on.

She fell to her knees and Levi smoothly dropped beside her. Eden fell back against his chest, her shoulders convulsing, the tears a never-ending river of sadness stroking her skin. She felt his arms awkwardly embrace her smaller frame; side pressed against his body as she cried into him. 

Eden didn’t even have the power to feel sadness anymore. Numbness crept through her, but that somehow sliced through her heart in a different type of way. 

Nonetheless, she sat crying in the Captain’s office and he was more than willing to let her do so.

As always, thanks for reading! The link to this story in AO3 is: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28919136/chapters/70952145

[kaelucpieces]

That Fine Line - Snippet

Kaeya tried again to summon his sword, cursing when the slim blade refused to come to him. 

I guess it’s back to basics, then, he thought, narrowly avoiding the brunt of a giant fell wing. 

It was time to fight the way his mother once taught him—how to survive without even the faintest dream of having a Vision. The wastelands of Khaenri’ah showed mercy to no one—neither did the gods. The beasts there were more than proof enough. 

Kaeya leapt out of the path of a sharp talon, blinking behind the creature’s foreleg. He dug under the raised scale and plunged a sharp rock beneath. Black blood gushed from the wound and ate through the stone with a sizzle, the thick droplets searing the wet ground.

Seizing the opportunity, he channelled ice through what remained of the stone. 

Frost met blood, spreading faster than the beast could bleed in the torrential rain. 

The knight quickly put distance between himself and the freezing creature as it crumpled to the ground. 

He didn’t stick around to make sure it was dead—he knew it would never hope to give chase once all four of its legs were nothing but chunks of ice on the forest floor. He just kept running.

He didn’t know what lived in this forest of horrors. Whatever they were, they weren’t from Teyvat—nowhere he’d ever been in any case. But there wasn’t time to think about the where and why. Safety was first, and he needed somewhere to hide and wait out the storm.

Kaeya raked sopping bangs away from his eye, gaze darting everywhere for signs of a place to huddle.

Thunder cracked, and lightning flashed, mimicking a moment of daylight. The rain came down that much harder, churning the ground into slippery mud. Kaeya very nearly fell, cursing at his clumsiness and the uneven land.

There! An outcropping ahead had an opening more than big enough for shelter. 

Whichever Archon took pity on him was getting his undying loyalty. 

Spurred into action, Kaeya pushed his aching legs and burning lungs that much further. He just needed—.

An ear-splitting shriek sounded from above, and his body went down faster than his mind could process.

Something sharp grazed the back of his head just as he hit the ground. He peered up over his arms in time to see another drake-like creature loop in the air for a return trip, screeching.

Kaeya scrambled to his feet off the muddied ground, determined to get to the small cave. While the rain was good for his Vision, he was on fumes. There was no way he could fight that thing and then face whatever could be living in that cavern.

The drake screeched again, and Kaeya could feel it bearing down on him. The cave was so close, but he wouldn’t make it in time if he didn’t miraculously speed up. He was already at his limit.

He called a crystal to his fingers and shot out a stream of ice. He flung his legs forward, sliding on the frozen path and into the cave. The creature slammed into the face of the outcropping, shaking stone from the ceiling. But it wasn’t long before it tried to get in.

Kaeya took advantage of the dragon’s wet snout and froze its maw shut.

The drake struggled against the frost before it flew off into the storm, likely still trying to get free of the icy muzzle. 

Not totally out of the woods yet, Kaeya took a cautious gander at his surroundings. The cave didn’t extend that far inside. It seemed to have collapsed some time ago, old rubble blocking any forward movement into the rock face.

Finally safe, the blue-haired knight slid to the ground, exhausted. 

At times like these, he envied Diluc’s pyro Vision. Having that instead of cryo would serve to warm him up for the duration of the storm—dry him off, even. Getting sick in a place where there probably weren’t any stray doctors wandering around would be an unfortunate turn of events. He’d rather avoid the worst-case scenario.

He rested the back of his head on the cavern wall and stretched his legs out in front. 

He snorted at himself. It was the same way he woke in this strange forest before almost being picked up in the jowls of a giant flower. Not long after that, he was on the run from a furious purple dragon. He wasn’t sure if he would rather face a Lawachurl instead.

More importantly, he wasn’t the same way he left himself. When he woke up, he expected to be either dead or looking at the ceiling of the medical wing at HQ. At the very least, the inside of a well-padded coffin. He would like to think that the Knights would offer more than a wooden box for their  Captain. But he digressed.

He put his right hand over his left side, somehow not torn open as he left it either. His insides weren’t threatening to make a run for it anymore, thankfully. But the wound was no less ugly. It would do better to cauterize it. Alas, there was only so much that ice could accomplish.

He could remember cutting off the squadron of Fatui agents. Diluc and his squad had gained some distance between their pursuers, but they were in no shape to turn and fight if the Fatui caught up to them. Luckily for the Elite Corps, Kaeya was lurking in the shadows for a time such as that.

Not that they knew he knew of their existence. Diluc would rather die than admit to working alongside the Knights again, so Kaeya let him keep his secret. 

True to form, Kaeya’s plan to stop the Fatui’s hunting party worked. He never failed a mission—but as per usual, there was a price to pay. There was only so much a single man, Vision or no, could do against a cult of unimaginable power.

Kaeya only hoped that the letter he left before departure made it to Jean. Freezing himself in a thick barrier of ice until someone found him was his best option at that time. The least he could do in return was not be a rotting mess when they came to collect his carcass.

The letter was likely to be a lost cause, though. While Kaeya trusted Amber to carry out his request, hardly anyone would take the message itself seriously if she couldn’t get a hold of Jean. Before handing the zealous outrider the sealed envelope, he idly thought of giving her Diluc as an alternative recipient. But just as quickly as it came, he dismissed the notion.

Diluc would never come looking for him. At least he was of some use to Jean as an agent for the more complex cases—his value to her had a better chance of outweighing his becoming another discount statistic. And even that was small.

As it stood, it was just him against the world. 

Whatever this world was.

[daiseukiis]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ┊ 03 ┊ 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 ┊ 05

⠀

⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I'VE NEVER SEEN TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS, WELL, YOU'RE BOTH JUST DOWN RIGHT UGLY THOUGH."

'an unregistered high grade cursed spirit?! is she the one that set this up?!' fushiguro stands his ground as his fists clench hard, sweat dripping the side of his forehead.

"excuse me?! did you just call me ugly?!" kugisaki points her finger at the cursed spirit, a tick mark over her head. the female cursed spirit just smiles, tilting her head to the side and pissing the sorcerer more than she needs to be.

"your hair must be dyed, you look like a tangerine sweetie."

"i'm gonna kill this bitch!"

'is that what she's concerned about?' fushiguro sweatdrops as he watches the tension unfold between the two girls.

"kiyara! itadori!" he yells out to the two as he runs to their direction, ignoring kugisaki and the cursed spirit's argument.

"i'm fine! thanks to him we got out in time." kiyara admits as yuji let's has hand unwrap around her waist. fushiguro bit his bottom lip and clenched his fists, guilt somehow sipping through his body. 'what the fuck...'

"you're a cursed spirit right? did you make this mess?" putting kiyara down itadori gets up and picks his cursed weapon, eyeing down the teenage looking cursed spirit.

"pretty, right?" her hands take the skull of a human which was positioned at the corner of the stage. she stares at it in fascination and traces her finger along its boney jawline. "i mean, all the curses you killed used to be human."

"what?"

"they were once human, just amplified their fear with my cursed energy and killed their souls. then, i turn them into my little puppets." throwing the skull right in front of the sorcerers and having a chain stab through it. planting her butt on the auditorium's stage, crossing her legs over each other and look down on the sorcerers.

"a cursed spirit that can turn humans into curses..?" their eyes widen, getting ready for battle. they watch as the thunder which struck behind her illuminated, her mind controls the chains that float above her body as she continued to gave the shamans a cocky smirk.

"usually i only kill those that don't have much time left in them, because i see how long you'll all live like a shinigami." she points her her green forest eyes that turn red in a single blink, shrugging her shoulders. "but that got boring ten years ago."

"and it looks like your time is up. die for me."

the cursed spirit's hand went up in the air, black mist formed within her grasp as it started to shape a scythe. in seconds it materialized into one that was decorated with skulls and red flowers. her one swing made shivers go down their spine.

in a blink of an eye the sorcerers disappeared from the cursed spirit's view causing her to be taken aback, confused by the change of scenery. while kiyara used her cursed energy to make illusions of them, their real bodies scattered and were unseen to her eyes.

"apologies, i forgot to introduce myself. i'm yoruko, to let you know who'll kill you." she stands up on the stage, grinning as she puts her scythe and hands behind her back. yoruko sways her body playfully and smiles mercilessly.

"now here's a pop quiz! what do humans fear the most?" her chains scatter to the gym floor, bringing her off the stage and onto the main floor. yoruko approaches the illusion of a trembling kiyara and fushiguro on the ground, her emotions not even once running wild and single handedly spinning her scythe.

"is it the sea? the dark? death is one of them, most definitely! but what else?"

'we need to escape, this cursed spirit is out of her mind!' fushiguro eyes kiyara who was right across the gym floor away from him. he glances over to itadori and kugisaki who were together, mouthing to leave and get help from their sensei since they were the closest to the doors.

"humans fear the unknown."

kiyara leaps from her spot to go head on with yoruko from the side, her hands instantly grip on to her daggers to attack her. but in just that second, a chain stabbed through the girl's side.

all three's eyes widen when they watch as the metal pierced her body just as fast as it came out. fushiguro's blood went cold, his heart dropped and sunk to the bottom of his stomach to see kiyara throw up blood.

the illusions which she set up disappeared like mist, making them all seen to yoruko's bare eye. she chuckles, staring at kiyara who stumbles back to where she was with a hand on her stomach. she makes eye contact with yoruko after coughing up blood, a foxy smile grazing the cursed spirit's lips.

"i can still see your soul."

'kiyara's faded doesn't work!' fushiguro tries to run towards her, ducking the chains which yoruko effortlessly aimed at him. she lets out a small tsk out after seeing fushiguro make his way to kiyara, grasping her body in his hands and glaring at her.

'at this rate, we'll all die!' kugisaki slams multiple nails at yoruko who only deflected them with her scythe, the bored look on her face as she gracefully spins her body with her weapon. the moment her eyes opened again, she was once more stuck in kiyara's faded which annoyed yoruko.

"stupid sorcerer, you really think by changing my sight you can escape?" a scowl shows her face, circling the black scythe in her left hand before swinging it behind her back.

while yoruko was impared, itadori took this as a chance to counter and up their chances of escaping her and possibly catching up with their sensei.

just as he was about to swing the slaughter demon at her, she maniacally smiles and presses her hand on itadori's stomach. "let me spread your fear!"

the moment her body came into contact with his, her field of vision completely changed, not just that but also the atmosphere that sent bone chilling senses up and down her spine.

'w-what the...' skulls. all yoruko could see were cattle skulls piled up with a man that sat atop the dark space. her body stares up to come face to face with pink hairー the same face which itadori had yet at the same time bore markings.

"isn't your head high, brat?" his voice made her frozen body act, scramming to the ground on to her knees.

"i-i'm sorry!" yoruko stutters loud and clear, until realization hit her. "wait, who are you?!"

"it seems you have a death wish." he was the undisputed king of curses ; sukuna.

yoruko instinctively detached her hand from itadori after seeing through into his soul, causing her blow to be little to no effect on him. her chains drag her out of his point of reach while she puts her free hand over her pounding chest.

'i need to keep my distance from that boy.' she still can't shrug the feeling of fear that runs through her veins when she touched itadori. it was as if she was alive again, the feeling she lost many years ago came back in the flesh of a teenage boy.

she felt alive.

'did she see sukuna or something?' itadori ponders, raising his brow as he saw the momentary fear that bared on yoruko's face, but it didn't take more than a second for her to regain her posture.

just before she swings her scythe down on itadori, lightning appears right before it could touch a single hair on itadori's body. yoruko steps back in shock, "what the fuck?!"

"lightning?" all four watch as the golden substance glowed in the middle of the floor. the light was so bright they started covering their eyes. a black figure dropped from the ceiling as the cape flew through their body.

'i didn't even feel her presence!' fushiguro's eyes lock to the back of their savior, the black veiled jingasa that covered the majority of it's face was still hidden under black fabric. by simple deduction he concluded it was female, the size of her figure and the heels that clicked when she landed on the gym floor.

her hands shape into claws, from her side and up in a diagonal manner lightning manifested from her fingertips. the golden light carved into the ground and made it's way to yoruko in incredible speed.

'it's getting closer! shit!' yoruko curses the sorcerer as she continues to delfect the lightning to bits, only for it to suddenly turn into water when her scythe hacked the lightning to pieces. she furrows her brows, finishing the last one and pointing her weapon at the figure, "who are you?"

'wait a sec... lightning and then water?' kiyara squints her eye lids while trying to move her body, but fushiguro quickly looks down in haste. "be careful! you'll lose blood like this!"

"i'll be fine, trust me." she assures him by putting a hand on his shoulder, sending him a smile that made fushiguro's heart churn. amidst the fight kiyara ripped her own school sleeve and tightly ties it around her waist in attempt to stop the bleeding.

"she's the masked shaman... shousen." kugisaki watches intently with the others, her eyes see how fluid her moves were when it came to dodging both scythe and chains. it even looked graceful to her eyes.

'i can't touch her soul without being burned or electrocuted!' yoruko leaps back to gain distance between her and the masked shaman, gripping her scythe in frustration. all she's done so far was get her chains melted, hands burned and electrocuted every time they came into physical contact.

"who?" itadori cocks his head to the side, he was amazed at how the sorcerer easily made the cursed spirit back off.

"she's a first grade sorcerer that never shows her face, we don't even know her real name." fushiguro explains with wide eyes, he still couldn't believe that someone like her was there to save them.

"all we know she's qualified to become the youngest special grade one sorcerer! that's girl power for you." kugisaki adds on filled with admiration.

"so you guys know her?"

"it's the first we've even seen her."

'water? since when?' yoruko watches the ripples in the fluid that move to every step she took, her reflexion being tampered by the small waves. she couldn't help but think, what the hell was going on in this shaman's mind?

"fourth blessing, god's light." shousen's index finger lit up at the tip with a flame, and with ease she tossed it over to the water. yoruko intently watches as the flame acted like a match that would light up a torchー but it was completely different.

the hot flame fell to create a string of explosions that headed towards the cursed spirit. blowing up half of the auditorium and sending yoruko to jump out into the field. shousen uses her cursed technique to create air around her and the teenagers, making them all fly before placing them down on a safe platform.

"oil? no," yoruko coughs out, her clothes in tatters with burns and flesh wounds. easily she was able to regenerate her parts, wincing at the slight pain she was inflicted before sighing in relief.

'with the lightning she threw at me earlier it dug down underneath the gym. because of that she made holes that caused natural gas to leak up and contaminate the water. fucking smart bitch.'

"still alive? lady luck must be in her favour."

not even a single breath was taken, shousen stood right in front of yoruko. the mesh black veil continued to flow vividly. she stares up into her crimson eyesー ones that looked like the setting sun that reflect on the waters of the calm ocean. the cursed spirit couldn't see the full face of the sorcerer due to the black face viel that covered her, but it didn't matter. she was entrancing.

'she's fastー' yoruko couldn't even finish her thought when a fist flew at her gut, sending her across the field and her body hitting a rugby pole. before the cursed spirit could even process her next move, she was barely able to block shousen's kick to the head covered in lightning with her scythe. 'she'll kill me!'

jumping to the side and away from shousen, yoruko's scythe turns into mist once more and disappears from her hands. panic starts to rush over her body, this was bad for her. "i need to get out of hereー"

"oh what do we have here, a cursed spirit?"

"another one?!"

tags ; @to-move-on-means-to-grow @hq149

notes ; lmao i actly posted smth

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

DO NOT REPOST 、 MODIFY 、 CLAIM WORK OR LAYOUT AS YOURS.

© MGUQIIS 、 2021

[impala-dreamer]

Play of Shadows

SPN FanFic

~A storm keeps the Impala off the road for the night, but you and Sam find a way to keep entertained~

Sam x Reader

2,382 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Smut in the front seat! Lots of feeeeels

A/N: This is for my Impala Sex square for @spnkinkbingo​ 2019. Do hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

2019 Kink Bingo Masterlist ~ Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

Raindrops snuck through the cracked window above your head, carried by the storm to trickle down upon you. They misted over your cheeks and stuck to your eyelashes; a welcome coolness against the humid air inside the Impala.

The road had been too wet, oil-slicked and dark, and the storm was steady for miles, unlikely to let up for a while. He wasn't happy about it, but Sam didn't want to risk it and pulled off the highway to park in a rest area. They were surrounded by trees that bent in the heavy winds, leaves howling like wolves in the dark. The lone car parked under a broken streetlight, lost in the night, stranded by a spring monsoon.

“It's not like I can't,” you laughed, passing the bottle back to Sam, “it's just...I haven't in a while.”

Sam took a swig of whiskey and eyed you hard. “How long is a while?”

Your eyes lifted to the upholstered roof as you tried to calculate without using your fingers. “Well…”

“That long, huh?” Sam laughed softly around the bottle and took another drink.

“Shut up,” you scoffed, grabbing the booze back. “Fine, I think the last time was like two weeks ago.”

"Two weeks!" Sam nearly choked on his swallow.

You licked a drop of whiskey from the corner of your mouth and shifted to face him, the leather squeaking a bit under your ass. "What? It's not like I can do anything with you guys around all the time. When was the last time I got my own room? Never?"

Sam shrugged bashfully and looked at his knee. "I mean...that doesn't have to stop you…" His cheeks turned hot pink as he kept his eyes down, fiddling with a tiny rip in his jeans.

You couldn't help the absurd laugh that came out of you along with a tiny hiccup. "Are you kidding me? Dean would never let me live it down." You covered your lips discreetly as another hiccup popped in your chest. "Could you imagine Dean walking in on me...like...oh my god. No."

Sam's cheeks were full-on burning as you laughed, and while he did smile at the thought, it was clear that another one was busy churning in his mind. "That would be something," he chuckled, finally lifting his eyes to look at you. "But…" He stopped as you met his gaze, the words failing as his heart raced.

The laughter died and you softened as he stared at you, hazel eyes bright even in the dark of the storm. "But what, Sam?"

He drew in his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and bit down, deciding. "But," he said again, with a little more confidence in his voice. "...I wouldn't mind."

Fire sparked in your gut and you clenched your teeth to hide a ridiculous smile. "Is that so?"

Sam leaned towards you, his eyes locked to yours, lips wet and parted slightly. You held your breath as he came close, suddenly flooding with heat from head to toe.

He leaned in. You sat forward.

He puckered his lips. You closed your eyes.

You let out a breath. He snatched the bottle from your hand and sat back with it, proudly grinning as he watched you flounder; kiss unmet.

"You jerk," you huffed, sitting back and kicking your left foot up on the bench seat. The toe of your sneaker nudged his leg and Sam grabbed it, pulling it to rest on his leg as he turned to face you.

"Sorry," he teased around the mouth of the bottle.

"No, you're not."

Whiskey sloshed in the bottle. "You don't know what I'm thinking or not."

You narrowed your eyes, studying him, and then sat back, resting against the cold window. "I guess not," you sighed and crossed your arms. "Wish I did though."

Sam laughed and took another drink. "You can't tell?"

You batted your eyes innocently. "Never. You're a complete mystery, Sam Winchester."

He slung his arm over the backseat, long fingers curling around the vintage leather. He dipped his chin and looked up through dark lashes just as a bit of hair fell forward into his eyes. "Never?"

"Maybe sometimes," you admitted, caught in the beauty of his face, stunned by the casual sexuality he emitted just lounging in the driver's seat, just being so close, quiet, warm.

He smiled gently. "What about now?"

"I know what I'm thinking," you whispered as you lifted your fingers to hover over his temple. When he didn't flinch away, you swept the hair from his eyes and tucked it safely behind his right ear, lingering there for the longest moment, enjoying the feel of his soft locks between your fingers.

"And what's that?"

His voice had dropped to a faint breath, barely audible over the heavy rain smacking the windshield, pelting the roof like so many angelic water balloons. They flooded the windows, sheeting down and distorting your view, but the only view that mattered was the one right in front of you.

Sam blushed through your silence, letting his eyes float over your lips. Maybe it was Dean's secret whiskey stash or the rhythmic rain that made your head fuzzy, but it was definitely Sam that made you warm. Sam that made your stomach somersault every time he blinked at you. Sam who made your heart ache and your body shiver. It was all Sam.

"Huh?"

He laughed at your murmur and brushed your arm with his thumb. "I said, what are you thinking about now?"

There was a lump in your throat and a buzzing in your ears, but you pushed through them, leaning dangerously close to his lips. "How it's been two weeks since I've cum…and how much I want to do it with you inside of me."

He took a breath that filled his entire chest, lifting his shoulders, lengthening every inch of him. You could hear him swallow hard, caught off guard by your boldness. He took a slow breath and turned his head just enough to catch the edge of your lips with his.

His breath brushed your mouth and you closed your eyes, lips reaching, seeking his, but never quite making contact. Sam pulled away just enough to watch you follow, caught in his aura.

“What are you thinking?” you whispered, desperate to have him say he needed you too, needing so badly for him to touch you.

Sam smiled and pushed his forehead against your temple, letting his eyes fall closed as he found the courage he needed. “About how bad I need to fuck you right now.”

Lightning lit the windows as your lips finally met, tongues clashing like the storm clouds above.

If that first kiss was thunderous, the moment his big hand snuck up beneath your shirt, fingertips burning on your skin, was like lightning striking a tree. Your insides burned for him, sparks lit your spine, making you arch up into him, pushing your body against his.

He was solid, not an ounce of give, but his lips were soft, his hands gentle as they squeezed your flesh.

"We...should...stop…" you panted, looking your grip on reality as Sam's teeth scraped at your pulse.

He licked at your ear as he pinched a nipple through your bra. "What? No…"

"I just.." Moans took over as he held you tight, mouth hot on your throat, long fingers reaching over and around you. "We...the...steering wheel."

Sam's lips left your neck with a wet pop and he looked around, realizing where he was. Hazel eyes flit around the Impala's front seat and then back to you. "Don't care," he breathed, "We'll make it work." He came back to you, shoving up your shirt with hungry fingers and closing his mouth around your right breast. His tongue swirled around the fabric of your thin bra and you pushed a hand through his hand.

"Backseat?" you suggested, gasping as he bit through the cloth to pinch your nipple with his teeth.

"No," he growled, "here. Ride me."

It took a moment to kick your pants away; Sam helped with your shirt once his jeans were down. The leather squeaked beneath his bare ass as Sam slid into the middle of the long bench seat, clear of the wheel, fisting his cock as he watched you climb to your knees.

"So fucking hot," he whispered, lust and awe clear in his voice. "Look at you…"

You bit your lip and smiled. The chilly air dimpled your skin but Sam's gaze made you shiver.

A truck passed on the highway, speeding through the downpour. Headlights lit Sam's face as you climbed into his lap and the play of shadows nearly made you cry. Pink lips, warm skin, stubbled cheek, sharp nose, fine jaw. His hair was loose as always, strands falling wherever they pleased; his eyes were a tangled gray, blue and brown fighting in the corners. He was a masterpiece.

"What?" he asked with a blush, delicate lashes fluttering as he blinked up at you.

You cupped his chin and bent your lips to him. "You're fucking beautiful, Sam."

Big hands grabbed your back, arms wrapping around your middle and shoulder to pull you close. Sam moaned into your mouth as he kissed you, gorgeous eyes falling closed at your taste. You sank down on him, gasping at the unexpected size of him. It hurt, but God, it hurt so good.

"You OK?" he panted against your cheek, deep voice filling your head.

You hummed, biting your lip as the delicious burn of him subsided into a dull ache. "Yeah...fuck...yes."

Sam sucked your tongue into his mouth and jerked his hips upwards, urging you to move.

The rain beat down, the shocks rocked gently, the roof bore your outbursts as you slapped at it, clawing at it and the dash, reaching for anything to hold onto.

Sam stared up at you, shadows dancing across your body as you fucked yourself hard and fast down onto his dick. He clung to your hips, guiding you up and down when your thighs began to burn and your breath became ragged.

“You gonna cum, Y/N/N?” he asked suddenly, all shyness gone from his tone.

Dropping your chin to your chest, you nodded, lips slack and wet, stomach tightening as the pressure grew. “Mhm. Wanna cum so bad, Sam.”

“I think you need to,” he growled, dropping his right hand to rub over your throbbing pussy.

The scream hit the back of your throat before you knew it was coming; his hot fingertips circling your clit made everything inside of you cry out. “Fuck, Sam!”

He thrust upwards, rubbed faster, watching with wide eyes as you struggled to hit the edge. You could feel your cunt dripping, leaking around him, but you simply could not let go. This was Sam, one of your best friends, the man who’d saved your life more times than you cared to admit. The boy who fought by your side, helped laugh away your nerves, wipe away your tears. Sam Winchester, the man your heart had claimed for your own the very first time you laid eyes on him.

Sam.

“Sam!”

He kissed you hard as you came, that big hand at the nape of your neck pulling you down, holding you to him as your legs shook around him. You dug into his shoulders, nails pushing through the worn flannel, picking up speed once your breath returned.

“Need you to cum, Sam,” you whispered harshly, grinding down on him, rocking the front seat.

His head slammed back against the seat, eyes rolling, jaw slack, lips swollen and beautiful.

Leaning forward, you sucked on his throat, drawing a line of wet kisses in the shadow blanketing his face.

Lightning struck as he came, hips bucking up into you and shaking as the thunder rolled.

Raindrops pelted the window, sneaking inside to mist over your sweaty faces, tickle your naked skin. You lay on Sam’s chest, barely able to move and wishing you never had to.

Sam brushed the hair back from your forehead, tender fingers dancing behind your ear and downwards, settling in the small of your back. “So what are you thinking about now?” he asked, voice cracking over the storm.

You sighed and wrapped your arm around him, squeezing as tight as your tired arms could manage. “How glad I am Dean let you drive for once.”

Sam laughed, you could hear it echo in his chest. “Yeah, he’s gonna kill me for taking all night.”

You sat up and feigned a frown. “I’ll kick his ass if he gives you trouble. Besides, you can’t control the rain, Sam.”

“True,” he agreed with a sweet smile, reaching to run his finger across your lips. “But I wish I could.”

“Why?”

“So we could stay here forever.”

Lightning cracked but the thunder took a while; the storm was passing.

He waited until the rain let up, content to hold you in the front seat, wrapped in comfortable silence, but all good things must end.

“I guess we should get going,” he said sadly, rubbing his hand down your arm, shifting a bit beneath you.

“Do we have to?”

Sam kissed the top of your head. “Yeah.” The windshield was clear, just a few droplets now and then coming down from the night sky. “We gotta get back.”

Sitting up, you grabbed your shirt from the footwell and sighed. “Listen, just...don’t be weird tomorrow, OK?”

“What do you mean?”

You turned back as soon as your head was through your shirt. “I just mean...look, if this was just a ‘ride out the storm’ situation, it’s cool. I just don’t want to not be friends tomorrow, OK?”

Sam left his belt buckle open, looking hurt by your words. He grabbed your hand and pulled you close, eyes narrowed and serious. “Do you want this to be over?”

“No, I just-”

“Then why does it have to be?”

The road was wet but the sky was clear. The windows were down and the night air was fragrant and cool. Sam held your hand as you sat side by side, more thankful than ever for that long bench seat.

2019 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @arses21434 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @because-imma-lady-assface @burningcoffeetimetravel @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @cosmicfire72 @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansenwackles @deansgirl215 @deanmonandnegansbitch   @dolphincliffs @dubuforeveralone @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @eternal-elir @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @gayspacenerd @hella-aj-the-trickers-son @herbologystudent252 @hobby27 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @lastactiontricia @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @mysticmaxie​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @our-jensen-ackles-love​ @peridot-rose @pisces-cutie​ @risingphoenix761​ @roonyxx​ @roxyspearing​ @sandlee44​ @shadowkat-83​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnficgirl​ @supernaturaldean67​ @supernatural-took-me-over​ @thehardcoveraddict​ @tmiships4life​ @wegoddessofhell​ @winchesterprincessbride​

[bludhavencapital]

The Story of

MERGO

There’s Something Wrong with that Guardian

Mergo

Summary

Mergo, a Brilliant Hunter, born near the end of The Golden Age, who was the first to create the Golden Gun Skill called Brightest Star Gaze, suffered with severe mental problems, and became a dangerous threat to fellow risen. Despite her suffering with schizophrenia, her skills were prodigious and unmatched to any hunter ever existed and was well respected for it.

At one point in time, before the Great Ahamkara Hunt, Mergo was abducted and raped by Volmâr’s Hive Knights on her strange departure to the Moon. Mergo traveled to Venus to bargain with the Ahamkara in helping her get rid of these hellish voices and memories of her being raped, but it only worsened her schizophrenia. Mergo murdered her own fire-team members, attempted to kill two warlocks, and Ikora Ray before her raid mission, almost killed herself in the dreadnaught, severely injured Andal Brask, and plotted to assassinate the vanguard. She believes Volmâr is working with the vanguard, and using their disciples to execute her for “illegally refusing to breed worms.”

Eris enchanted her Touch of Malice with a speciality bedded to retain her sanity, by keeping the voices contained in the weapon itself.

Mergo still remains in the tower, but locked beneath the vanguard office in a holding cell. As she’s too dangerous to be around other guardians. Even though Mergo’s lost her sanity, she still keeps her skill, nimbleness, and raw talent.

Unless her madness throws her off balance, she’s the sharpest, most precise lethal Golden Gun hunter to ever exist.

The First Curse, A

Perfect Shot

Mergo’s most finest weaponry was The First Curse, to whom the ‘Brightest Star Gaze’ title belonged to. Although many guardians disliked the gun, Mergo loved the Gun for the power it can unleash. Many Hunters preferred other weapons, for The First Curse felt underwhelming to use even with its most powerful perk. The requirements were difficult, and the Gun itself was unfathomable to understand how to use it correctly/precisely. For Mergo, a naturally gifted marksman, the quest came easy to her and managed to finish the quest the quickest. Relieved by the sight of the white&chrome lining of the palette, 6-inch barrel, and most importantly, the weight, her desperate hours of holding the Impercation felt like an accomplished chore. Despite her bare witnessing the guns beauty and majesty, she did not see this weapon as beautiful. To her, The First Curse was misunderstood, and only needed guidance in becoming a perfect form of itself. It’s shot is precise and sharp, but with every little push of the trigger requires a faultless point.

“The gun can speak endlessly, when given the moment.” — Mergo.

Mergo then chose The First Curse as her own golden gun. Within time, and intense amounts of training, Mergo showed sheer perfection with The First Curse so much, that her golden gun amplified a Blueish Sharp Flame Streak, instead of its regular orange flame streak. The flames on her Golden Gun burnt blue flames and so did her abilities. A much stronger/hotter version to original Golden Gun, it can pierce right through monumental objects and barricades, such as a Titan, Hydra or Hive Knight’s Barrier. The bullet traveling speed is that of the speed of lightning, it can even devastate enemies standing a few feet towards the bullet trail, making her skill all the more rewarding. Mergo has excelled in her mastery in precision, and became the greatest lethal golden gun hunter to ever exist

Deepest Darkest Secret

Prior to the Taken King, Mergo always showed defects in her psychology. Mergo believed her nightmares were beholding amongst reality. Moments before her departure to the Dreadnaught, her warlock acquaintance, Raelag found her in an oscillate state, mummering about “Babies…” and “Concubines”…found speechless, he went to Ikora Ray about a concern with his fireteam member, having fits and rocking beside a corner in her apartment. Ikora Ray took Mergo into her private headquarters to the retrieve information personally. Mergo wouldn’t stop calling Ikora “Volmâr”, Ikora even needed to render her unconscious Mergo in order to make matters less chaotic. Upon awaking, Ikora asked again what Mergo was talking about. Finally, Mergo spoke, but in short, she was too afraid to explain in detail of Hive kidnapping her and temporarily slaving her as a worm donor. “Worm Donor?” Ikora question with confusion. “Apart of me was taken, and kept galaxies away…my light, my innocence. And they could be using it for destruction.”

“You need to be honest with me Mergo, are guardians being used as worm donors, and were you a victim? How exactly did they, “do” this to you?”

“……I knew you were one of them Ikora,”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You look just like her, you must be a clone, I can see her! Volmâr! She’s just......fidgeting and twitching, .....GET THIS DISGUSTING CREATURE OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

Ikora can’t comprehend what’s happening, but Mergo attacks her out of blind rage. Mergo was sent into an isolation chamber in a well put straight jacket, sealed with a soros brand monument, where she will calm down before her departure. Ikora has kept the information of Gaurdians, even male guardians being used as worm donors to the Hive. She believes Hive are raping guardians into impregnation. These feats were practice for as long as guardians fought against them. Of course it’s too explicit to nationally syndicate, so it was only kept privately in the vanguard. Ikora, and the vanguard believed Oryx is the root of the problem. Stopping him could reduce trafficking amongst the guardians and hive in this solar system. She took note that hive are possibly taking our light through insemination, by birthing Light Worms, and Mergo was possibly not the first victim. A possible new darkness to awaken in the light.

“Why would she hide something like this? Has this been kept in her mind ever since she sought victory over Crota’s End?” Ikora Ray.

“That could explain why she’s so damn good with her golden gun. I mean…… It burns blue. She must’ve been using this secret to express it in her skills. She may have grown numb to it quickly, and encouraged herself to be this.. cold and calculating monster in the field. I mean her talents are insane!” Cayde-6

“....We’ll have the fireteam aboard the ship, you and Aeros can aid them during their adventure.”

“Are you sure we should let her go...? Isn’t she a little....”

“....”

“C’mon ....do I have to say it?”

*rolls eyes* “but it’s only because I believe it could help replenish her. She’s a strong asset, gifted, talented guardian..”

“...and beautiful, very gorgeous.”

Living Nightmare, The Pitfall

Midnight before the raid

There could be strange whispers coming from Mergo’s Chamber, calling out and chanting vibrantly as the lights flickered throughout the darkened corridor. Mergo is seen mummering again about worm impregnation. Her eyes looked exhausted, and darkened from sleep deprivation. She’s mentally defeated and in need of redemption.

Today is the day she prepares her departure to the dreadnaught in defeating Oryx. An hour into the dawn, Mergo finally gains composure of reality again. Impatiently, she breaks free from the jacket herself, and actually departures to the dreadnaught alone without her fireteam unplanned. Unnervingly, something is summoning Mergo to the dreadnaught subconsciously. As she flows through the Milky Way, The Hellishlike whispers begin to lurk back into her presence, and continue to haunt her as she’s headed beyond Saturns rings. In contrast to everyone else who went through the dreadnaught in the Court of Oryx, Mergo was actually brought in deserted room behind Golgoroth, with a three gorgeous looking chests coded in Hive Language. They appeared to be the same language used in Volmâr’s chamber. Hit with sudden dejavu, she desperately proceeds to place them the way she remembered how they were in order.

“Birth” “Reinvigoration” “Malice”.

Mergo only managed to open one of them ( Reinvigoration ) that actually contained a fragment of Touch of Malice. The other chest ( Malice ) begins to crack itself open, “here lies a clandestine rendezvous, an invitation to the throne room, where the daughters of Oryx reside.” Upon meeting the doors from the maze, Mergo sees a disturbing image; herself as a hive worm with hive puss fuming from its pores, squealing like a newborn creature. Mergo was frozen with shock. Without blinking, she killed it, with no hesitation. However, upon killing it, her bullet seemed to have hit a warlock, not a hybrid worm. It was Raelag, whom was required by Ikora to find her. Mergo breaks down in tears upon what she’s done, kicking her legs frantically, shooting her gun on the ground, having a full blown break down.

“I’m a monster, they’ve just been trying to tell me... I deserved to be raped, I deserved to be labeled a birthed of evil! Angel! Angel…don’t revive me... please.”

Her ghost’s name is Angel. He tries mending the situation, helping her keep her mind under control, but it only coupled to more tears. Mergo then attempts suicide with her first curse, only for the TOM Fragment to sing and churn with green energy. It was excited to hear a guardian suffer so abruptly. As Mergo looked up from the ground, she heard trembling beneath her. Raelag’s body was fidgeting on his stomach. She then flipped him over only to reveal that his helmet was gone, but his entire face was also gone. She screeched so loudly it echoed a huge shockwave in the dark chamber, then started beating Raelag frantically for him to stop seizing. As her Anxiety increased, Mergo panicked even more, then scurried quickly from the body, following a dark telepathic light that appeared before her.

Climatically, upon reaching the end of the darkness, she finally approaches the daughters floating symmetrically on both sides of the throne room, praying to their gods or god Oryx. Without the help of her fireteam, Mergo nearly died in the sequence just before the sister teleports her back into the throne room, where she almost died in the process of carrying the orb to completion. But successfully, she sufficed the battle and destroyed the last sister with her Blue Golden Gun, snuffing anything left of her.

The final battle with Oryx wasn’t like the origin raid, but Oryx actually impersonating Mergo as a doppelgänger, by using his Taken powers to forge a body of hers. Disturbingly, he manifested the Volmâr Hive Knights that raped her in the Hellmouth, and had her fight an armory of them while he regenerated his power. Mirrored by the same load out, it was unfeeling if Oryx mirrored the same skills as Mergo’s, since his was Taken Formed. Mergo fought with bloody fury, and strangled herself (Oryx) until he disintegrated.

Unfortunately, Mergo has actually won the battle, but what makes it bittersweet is, she now has to live the rest of her life with crippling mental issues. Eris is working to try and reanimate the Touch of Malice in specialty for Mergo’s on going nightmares. She will forge an artifact that glows a midnight-tinge color in the green crater surrounded by rotating rings. Eris believes this will be a specialty bedded for her Schizophrenia and PTSD, in keeping them only “alive” beyond the TOM. Oryx has received the last laugh on Mergo’s end, and Mergo is stained by the hives destructed nature alike Dredgon and Eris. Her dignity and perfection are now unbalanced, however, Ikora hopes the TOM will at least help keep her mind stable.

[hoedameron]

because i didn’t make any more gifs of the tfatws finale, have a thor gif i made to test new colorings <3 i love the absolute VIBRANCE of it like it brings out the richness of taika’s vision. i felt like a true marvel gif maker with this coloring :3c

one question for serious content creators: how the hell do you do it? how do y’all download the episode at lightning speed, get the clips/screencaps you want, then go into photoshop and whip a gifset in RECORD time?? i am just at AWE at y’all’s swiftness and practiced ease it’s something so remarkable....do y’all just have really good wifi and have paid photoshop...because i’m sitting here with silly wifi and a cracked ps who want me?? 

though i knew there might be like...a lot of people wanting to gif a lot of these scenes i knew would do numbers, i decided to toss my hat into the ring; put my cake in the cake walk with my version of the scene. after it was finished downloading, i got the clip, then opened photoshop which takes like TWO MINUTES TO OPEN i love cracked ps <3 then got to work. luckily i actually perfected my sharpening atn and it’s easy to use and it’s such a relief! also do not persecute me but lean in sweeties....it may be like wearing white after labor day but i used the same coloring i did with my bucky vs. lucky cat 😳 of course i tweaked it a bit because it was a brighter scene pero yes, you heard it here FIRST! a bitch is a psd repeater idk if something is good, why change it up when you are under a time crunch?? like i said, i also didn’t want to bother too much with the coloring because i wanted to churn it out as quickly as possible because it was already outside the window that i liked (an hour after the episode aired).

another question for content creators: how do y’all sacrifice sleep? i stayed up until 5:30 AM because i was too riled up :/ i only have less than 2 hours of sleep because i woke up at like 8:02 AM and was like...guess i’m up! yesterday morning was just all types of just....wrecking my sleep schedule for a gifset scream AND IT WAS JUST ONE! y’all be making more than one HOW i do not understand. my photoshop was STRUGGLING to close, breathing so heavy and chrome was like GIRLY i cannot open because SOMEBODY is taking up too much of the memory -_- like they were FIGHTING to function, one to close and one to open...it was just a MESS. i really do think i have to invest in actual ps...that sucks like i am in shambles.

okay, so, the caption. can i just say that i actually was like...OKAY! my original caption, the caption that automatically came to mind when i first saw bucky with sarah’s kids is “uncle bucky” i was like that is SUCH a cute and funny caption i want to use it. then...and i really don’t like the reason why i backed away from it but i did back away from it because i did not want to have any flame from shippers. i do not personally ship anything from marvel at all (maybe like one pero still it’s not like i’m gonna cry if it doesn’t happen lol) pero like shippers just scare me. i didn’t want people in the tags being like “uncle?? who you calling uncle?? 🤬” which is SO silly to think but i did </3 so i went with what was in the script and i think it did the job :) then funny enough, there is a more popular gifset where op does use the caption “uncle bucky” so me backing out on using that caption may have been for the best, y’know? so it doesn’t look like i was stealing WHICH AGAIN silly to think because it’s just free real estate! op doesn’t own that phrase and isn’t the only person who views bucky as an uncle to aj and cass since that was my immediate thought....anyways IT’S ALL SMOOTHED OUT!

yes, i did run into the same problem as my prodigal son gifset where i couldn’t find my gifset in the tag. then i was like...i am EXHAUSTED, it is FOUR AM, i am not FIT for this kind of content creator lifestyle of being the first to “report”...i will leave this once again in God’s hands...and y’all really came through and i cannot thank y’all enough!! i almost got emotional because i was like...when i went to bed, i was really preparing myself to only get 200 notes and i was satisfied with that number. it may seem cheesy or idk if it sounds performative idk pero i am being so damn genuine when i say that every interaction with my content means the absolute WORLD to me. every reblog and reply is like a patch on a quilt that i go back to in order to remind myself that there are people who really like my content. i do have problems with that and i am definitely working on being proud of my work so MWAHHH making edible arrangements for everyone <3