#i just wait until they get few sweeps to get rid of bugs

[darth-bagel]

Lord Graz'zt... just doing Sithy Things™

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Duplicity

An AU where Kaidan joins Cerberus for the events of ME2.

Chapter Nine: Of Explosions, Traps, and Thresher Maws

"Who did you blow to get access back?"

Mary looked up from the safety of the relatively stationary floor of the shuttle. This wasn't a day where the nausea meds worked to full effect, but she could suffer through a grin, "Illusive Man didn't appreciate Leng's interference with our mission."

"What a bosh'tet."

"You should still avoid him, if possible."

"Come on, Shep! Give me a reason to smear him against the cargo bay walls," Jack retorted with a smug grin.

Tali huffed, "I can take care of myself!"

Mary rubbed at her temples, focusing again on the grooves in the flooring, "we might be pushing it already."

"As I said," Jack sighed, "it's an empty facility. Since when did you give a fuck about what Cerberus thinks? Did you drink Cheerleader's kool-aid?"

"I jumped at the idea of blowing up this facility if my urgency was not noted," she retorted, "and only if it was cherry flavored. Unfortunately, it tastes like watered down orange."

"You're fucking weird."

"I'm sure someone likes orange flavoring."

"And they would be wrong, and besides, have you ever tasted orange?"

"That's beside the point, Shepard."

"Why is the bastard even here?" Jack interjected, becoming the voice of reason.

Mary puffed out her cheeks, "he was elusive about it. Leng mentioned something about a confidentiality breach. Tali, did you try and hack their systems?"

Tali shook her head, "if I did, they wouldn't have caught me."

Shepard grinned.

"Cerberus has the entire Normandy bugged, and not to mention that AI. I wouldn't do something like that without you knowing about it."

Mary nodded, "I thought so. If I wanted to get rid of those bugs, what would I need to do?"

Tali went silent.

"Way to ruin your plan," the biotic gently mocked.

"Who is Kai Leng to you?"

Jack leaned back in her seat with a growing scowl, "him and some Cerberus bitch tried to capture me. It didn't happen, but some mercs got me instead."

"That explains how you got to Purgatory," Mary murmured in response.

Jack shrugged, not interested in further explaining that particular defeat.

"Please be careful with him; even Miranda seemed spooked," she cautioned gently.

"Cerberus has really got you by the balls."

The blond flinched, "I'll have you know I ignored an urgent message from the Illusive Man to bring you here." It was a poor attempt at a deflection; everyone aboard the Normandy knew about her history with a certain crewmate. Worse was the presence of nearly every friend she had left in the galaxy. Most brought in by her. She had no doubts that the Collecter threat was overly sensationalized, but for the time being, it what her only option in stopping the threat. Anderson had seen the threat for himself, but whether or not he could help remained unknown partially because she was afraid of a formal admonishing.

"I forgot how much I hate this place."

~~~

"Shepard-- we caught a break."

Predictably, the break was a trap. Mary wasn't liking the new habit of trampling through her ship in armour fresh from a fight. Or how annoyingly composed the Illusive Man always was, even in her impromptu meeting, he was waiting with a cigarette and drink in hand. The bastard knew what he had done. Worse, he was ready for her to explode.

"In the meantime... I suggest you tell your crew I didn't risk their lives unnecessarily," whether or not the microscopic curl of his lip was imagined in the end, "it would make things easier going forward."

"I'll tell them the truth, screw this half-truth bullshit," Mary leaned back on her heel, folding her arms.

"Our reports missed the petulant child side of you," he took a long drag, flicking away the butt, "can't you see this was necessary."

"Not in the way you handled it."

His pupils narrowed as he stared at her, mouth kept in a thin line. Boldened by this slip, Mary pushed it, "you'll be lucky to have my crew after this."

"Who, exactly, is going to help you? The council already dismissed you once. The Alliance doesn't care about the humans in the Terminus Systems," his posture and blank expression returned, "unless you don't care about the abducted colonies and the Reaper threat anymore."

"Fuck you!"

He issued a long and drawn-out chuckle, "I expected better behavior from you, Shepard. Be an adult, and put aside your petty grievances. You need me to stop this threat."

The coldness pierced her heart first, spreading through her veins with incredible speed until it froze the tip of her fingers. The frigidity of her body forcing her face in a neutral expression, "Akuze was no petty grievance, you conniving prick."

She couldn't lose much more face, so stomping off without a pause was well within her wheelhouse.

"Mary?"

Kaidan knew that look, not that he had to be blocking her way to read it. The emotionless mask was there for only a select few emotions, and all urged him to reach out. Whatever it was, at least meant he wouldn't have to explain why he hovered around the briefing room. He stood his ground, allowing her the time to breathe before he attempted to pry it out of her. Eventually, her shoulders dropped for the briefest moment before squaring back up.

"Talk to me," Kaidan murmured gently, "what happened out there?"

Shepard's posture had corrected, but the mask had yet to fall. Moving him into unfamiliar territory, so he waited for her to speak. Timidly, slowly, placing his hand on her pauldron once the time elapsed into the space of no response.

"Shepard," he called.

First, her body lurched forward, he instinctively moved to pull her in, but the arm that reached around him corrected course and shoved him aside. Perhaps a little harshly, as his back met the metal wall of the hallway. Finally, the mask slipped, catching the moment her eyes filled with regret that morphed with the half-assed raising of her arms, "it was a trap."

Mary spun away to the right, sputtering another few choice words as Mordin collided with her across the opening doorway.

"Go get Grunt ready; we're headed to Tuchanka."

~~~

"You've had a lot more poker practice, Alenko," the turian mused in defeat.

"Back then, I was never invited," the biotic returned snidely.

"Only because Shepard took you everywhere," Tali added wistfully, "you were both so moony-eyed."

"Is that your excuse for always losing, Vakarian?" Kaidan grinned, fighting a bittersweet blush, "careful Tali, you'll start slipping."

"You were all formally crewmates?" Thane finally decided to speak from his corner of the mess hall table. His gaze lingered longer on the human. The other two were obviously connected to Shepard. His short time aboard the Normandy, he hardly saw the Commander and this man in the same room.

The human's next smile a little less forced, "yeah. With Joker at the helm. Those were crazy days."

"Much simpler times, just chasing a rogue spectre across the galaxy."

Tali hummed, "it felt more heroic back then."

"To hell with Cerberus," the man muttered.

Thane stood from his seat, this talk of the past making him feel further like a stranger in this group. Why Officer Alenko had invited him in the first place was a mystery, he hadn't attempted to speak with anyone. Not out of malice but out of desire. Shepard's words about him socializing with the crew to find meaning the sole reason he attempted this game.

The three looked up at him in unison.

"We can change the game."

"You can just stay and talk if you want."

"Look at you guys scaring away the new blood."

Thane glanced between the group; they were a good sort. He shrugged in an effort not to disappoint them, returning to his seat; he had little else of import to do.

"How about a game of go fish?"

The turian turned to the man, "isn't that a children's game?"

"I thought keeping your credits would be an enticing offer," Kaidan returned smugly.

"I already owe you a small fortune when you do decide to collect," the turian drawled, "might not be wise to encourage you to do so."

"I'm banking on interest too, Garrus."

"You would," Garrus chuckled, his eyes sweeping to the quarian, "but Tali, I've always wondered why your faceplate is tinted. Doesn't that distort your vision?"

"Garrus my e-"

Grunt barrelled by the table, taking the L2's attention with him. Adding biotics to the already large Krogan only increased his appetite, especially after a fight. The youngster looked pleased, settling down at the table with whatever was easiest to sweep into his arms—tearing into the still bagged loaf of bread sideways, the group watching with mixed reactions.

"Grunt," Tali was the first to scold, "you should be a little more careful."

"He's just a growing boy, Tali," Garrus replied.

The krogan looked up and around the table with a sheepish grin, "I am a boy no longer. I have passed the rite, and with my battle master, have defeated a thresher maw! You should be in awe!"

"That's no small feat-" Thane finding himself suddenly the chatty one.

"It was glorious! A worthy opponent. So big and in your face," Grunt continued to gloat through mouthfuls of bread and plastic.

"And Shepard?" the man dared to ask.

"The best battle master. Our enemies should be afraid!"

"Was she upset?" Tali pressed.

"No- she fought bravely."

Garrus was next to speak, "nothing odd?"

The krogan groaned, "she fought well. So well, she was too tired to speak."

Kaidan shuffled from his chair, hesitating as the turian and quarian took turns locking eyes with him, "am I supposed to sit here and do nothing?"

"I wouldn't test her patience."

Tali folded her arms, "what could you even do? Guilt trip her again?"

"Ouch," Kaidan flinched, running a hand through his hair, "I deserved that one."

Grunt looked around the table, cocking his head to the side. Thane went still, achieving a far better understanding of the situation than the confused krogan. Until Miranda, followed by Kai Leng burst from the second officer's office, both beelined for the elevator. Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan moved to intercept the pair.

"Out of our way," the Cerberus assassin seethed.

"Do you have a death wish?" Garrus tried to defuse him with humor and a well-intentioned claw on his shoulder. It did not work; the man's eyes only narrowed the anger held in his posture, doubling.

"Keep your dirty talons off of me, bird!"

Tali pulled Garrus back, allowing Kaidan to get in the way.

"That wasn't necessary," the biotic stated bluntly.

Leng rolled his eyes, "and neither is whatever fit Shepard is having in the elevator."

"So you're going to make it worse by demanding she stop?"

"Kaidan, we can't let her damage the ship," Miranda added gently.

"Yeah, I know," Kaidan sighed, rubbing at his temples, "but she won't. I don't think she will, anyway. It's her way of coping."

"By letting off biotic charges?"

"Yeah, I know, but has she damaged anything?"

EDI piqued up, "damage remains cosmetic."

Miranda placed her hands on her hips, "well, this is why we hired you, Alenko. Make her stop, or we'll be forced to act."

"Next time, a little warning after she's faced a Maw would help."

~~~

Riding through the elevator of the Normandy was an old pastime. Something about being crammed into a small space with blank walls let her think. About the good, about the bad, about anything that needed her consideration, really. She had spent hours in the old elevator; they moved much too quickly in the new ship. With more floors and staff came more distractions.

Usually, it involved much less biotic discharge, but this time that display kept the peace. The strain to keep it contained and from flaring too brightly occupied her mind pushed out the thing... the creature... that kept trying to wedge back in her mental space. Pulling it all back in, only characterized by a faint aura around her form, was another challenge. She kept her back to the person.

Ignoring it until the crinkling of a bag pulled her attention.

The opened bag revealing the light reddish-brown contents within, "I thought you might be hungry."

She looked Kaidan up and down, resting on his gentle gaze. Why was she so stubborn? Was he really so different? Did who he worked for matter? She couldn't pretend that all she saw of Cerberus was bad. She trusted Jacob- he had many of the same qualms she did about the organization but continued under their banner without compromising his morals. Her work was good fighting to protect the galaxy from the Reaper threat. Sure at the moment, it felt solely based on saving humans from the Collector threat, but they were only a tiny piece of the problem. She saw no shift in Kaidan, despite the things he had done after she passed. The same integrity, the same aggravating calm, the same compassion.

Perhaps she was unfair. What would she do to bring back the man she loved?

Huh, love was a funny feeling—a light but at the same time heavy notion.

Fuck this.

Fuck the forced distance.

If they were going to die, why waste what could be their last moments together?

"Kaidan."

Pushing the chips aside, she wriggled her way into his arms. A hand threaded through her still damp hair, his nose pressing into the top of her skull. The other arm supported the small of her back, cradling her in gently. Mary breathed in his familiar scent, no different than the man she knew two years ago. It was this easy. Some, but not all, of her worries faded into the background. She had missed physical comfort.

"Wrex was there," it was all she could offer.

Kaidan's chest rumbled, the patch pressed against her forehead an unwelcomed annoyance. A reminder. Hot and blinding, the logo was all she could focus on as it rubbed against her.

Maybe she was weak, but she could not separate the horror from the uniform.

He let her escape without a fuss, leaving him empty-handed.

[aesthyuckic]

AVENOIR | l.dh - TREDECIM

(gif not mine - credit to rightful owner)

Genre: High School AU (at beginning) ; Tarot Reader!Witch!Hyuck

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: (bold if in use) slow but with a purpose, belief contradictions, mentions of r*pe, blood, swearing, violence, mentions of abuse

Pairings: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader (F)

II OF PENTACLES: balance, priorities, adapting to change

The summer days seem to sweep by slowly, much like the sand that blew softly in the desert in the afternoon. It didn’t take long for Donghyuck to read the book Cosimia have him for his birthday either. He took a quick interested in the subject of witchcraft, more than she had thought he would. Every time they moved, he would end up dragging her to the book stores to the town nearby and whenever he ran out of books, he’d borrow Sicheng’s laptop for further research.

To Cosimia it was quite thrilling to see her friend so passionate and interested in something... The curiousity and joy that came to light up his eyes in the form of a sparkle made her smile to herself and feel a bit of joy herself. It gave her a sense of hope as well let her see purity in the most unlikely places she wouldn’t imagine were possible. Lately, she was often too busy looking at the boy with her own sparkle in her eyes because of this.

“I think I’m gonna become a witch...” The boy has said to her from his place on the couch.

“Hmm?” She hummed as she was knocked out of her dream like state at the kitchen counter. “Oh... I think you’d make a good one. I thought you’d need, like, a coven for that though?”

“That’s only if you want to be Wiccan,” He informed her. “I just wanna do like magick stuff, you know?”

She nodded, understanding him before she took a sip of the coffee in her mug. As soon as the cup left her lips she let out a little chuckle as she put down the white mug on the counter.

“You’ve mature quick a bit, Haechan.” She smiled. “Mentally, that is.”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed. “I’ve always been mentally mature!”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that...” She rolled her eyes. “I meant with being more open minded about what the world has to offer and such. Also, I know you were the one who helped the seniors with their prank this year. Condom and togas? Really?”

“We were the Trojans! You have to admit it was pretty genius of me.”

“Genius isn’t the exact word I’d use to describe but yeah, sure.”

With every passing day, the closer it got to summer solstice. The solstices were always some of the most vital holidays of the years to witches. Though, the summer solstice seemed to be the most special... It was the one day of year you could brew love potions and they’d work as well as all witches having the ability to see the future.

He knew he had Cosimia. She saw the future every day, it was normal for her. There was always a part of him that wondered what it was like to see things the way she did. He wanted to see things the way she did sometimes...

Before he knew it, it was three in the afternoon on a very hot day. He sat on the floor of the trailer that felt like an oven as the carpet itches his legs from underneath him. Long pieces of dried grass remained scattered around him as he crafted away the best he could. It was oddly quiet. At least until Cosimia interrupted and found him there. She was quite shocked at the mess.

“You know, when you said you were going on a break I didn’t think it meant you were ditching.” She huffed as she looked intimidating in her all black outfit. “What are you even doing?”

“Making a besom.” He muttered, trying to tie pieces of the dry grass to the large, smooth, wooden stick. It wasn’t working for him and he got so fed up with it, he just threw it across the room which startled the girl. “This is so stupid!”

“No, it’s not stupid.” She sighed as she came to sit down to make him feel better.

“Then what is it? I’m just wasting my time and yours and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was wasting other people’s time too. Everyone thinks I’m weird or a devil worshipper! And then everyone is like ‘no, you’re a warlock or wizard, not a witch. you’re not a girl’ but they don’t understand it’s gender neutral and the others ones are insulting for some reason!”

“Okay, first off, I know you’re mad but you need to calm down. Not a lot of people know that, Haechan. Witchcraft isn’t really taught properly to the general public. Not to mention, people are scared of those types of things. You know that well, don’t you? I get it’s frustrating but you also know if no one else will understand and support you, I will. Isn’t that how we ended up here in the first place?”

He nodded, the familiar feeling of his breath being taken away from him as she held her cheeks since the passionate little speech for it. To be honest, it filled him with a different type of delight and serenity as it calmed him down after his small blow up. It was just so loving and safe...

“And hey,” She spoke softly and gently to him. “We can go into the forest tomorrow and get better materials got your besom. You can practice there too. I know you’re preparing for summer solstice... but right now, we need to go back to the tent. Hendery can only stall for so long.”

He laughed at the last comment and nodded after before following her back. There was a huge line waiting for them at the tent. In front of all those people stood Hendery and Kun. The young, black haired boy blabbered on about how Cosimia had gotten his broken arm prediction correctly and how amazing it was. It caused them to snicker a bit before the girl tapped him on the shoulder as signal that they could go back to being security. They went back to their job as well.

He stared at the girl with a sort of goofy smile as she help one of the people before he helped another. It took awhile to get rid of everyone and once they all left, he decided to do a reading for himself as he made a habit to pull a card out of the deck every day. When he was shuffling, a card came out of the deck which he gladly grabbed before flipping it over. It revealed the tower, in reverse. The image made the color from his face drain. He swipe it of the table as quick as he could, before she could see it.

There was a painful event coming, one he or even they avoided... He had no idea what it meant but it made him feel uneasy. The fear of suffering, something avoided as it could be seen. There was no clue as to what it was which made it that the more ominous to him. If it was able to be seen, wouldn’t he know? He decided not to worry about it right then as the girl was already saying it was time to go.

Much like his friend promised, they went into the forest the next day. The birds chirped and bugs hummed around them as they trudged through the thin, tall, green grass and trees. The twigs and leaves crunched under their feet as well. Cosimia pulled a old, red wagon that creeked behind her that bumped against the uneven ground every once and awhile. She would pick up things everyone in awhile and put them in the wagon.

They decided before making the besom, Donghyuck would practice a bit first. He was going to cast a circle, it would be his first time ever doing so and maybe he’d cast a few spells. They just needed a place...

There was a point they reached in the forest. There was a circle of trees that surrounded a clearing. When they went in they couldn’t see the sky clearly as ivy had grown over the top only allowing small holes to let sunlight in. It did seem almost quite magical to them as they decided to stop there because it was too perfect for them.

It was obvious Donghyuck had so much to practice. Casting a circle was something he needed to learn first and foremost as well considering it was one of the most important things to know. He cleaned the area with the clear quartz like the books he read told them too. Who would have known Cosimia’s crystal obsession would’ve really come to his use?

He stood alone in the middle the clearing as the girl sat to side on rock close to a tree. She smiled at him before he turned to face the East. He tried his best to recall the words he read multiple times to be used in this situation. He closed his eyes while he started to cast the circle with his right hand. He envisioned it in his mind as he turned clockwise. Though, half way through he dropped his hand and opened his eyes. He looked at the girl with a pout on his face, he looked like he was about to cry.

“I feel so stupid...” He mumbled while lookin down at his feet and twiddling his fingers.

“Haechan, it’s not stupid.” She sighed. “You know witchcraft is about believing before anything else. I know you may feel funny at first doing it and that’s normal. But you’re never gonna get anything out of it thinking it’s stupid.”

He began to pout again, knowing she was right and only trying to help him, “Can you join me, please?”

“...I’m not a witch, though. And I don’t want to be one either...”

“You don’t have to be! You don’t have to do anything other than encourage me. I just don’t want to be alone while doing this.”

She rolled her eyes, mostly to herself because of how quickly she gave into him. Nonetheless, she still came over to stand beside him. It left a smile on his face which soften her up as well as make her feel better about. It was only a few moments later that she noticed how long they had been staring at each other in that beautiful place.

“Hurry up!” She hissed, interrupting them moment. “We still need to make your besom and Johnny’s gonna pissed once he figures out we dipped today!”

He kind of felt hurt by her attitude but understood it at the same time. So he picked up where he left off. He closed his eyes and raised his right hand once again to continue where he left the circle unfinished. He unknowingly grabbed Cosimia’s hand with his left while he finished casting the circle around them. He was done before he knew it. He dropped his arm to his side. His eyes fluttered open as his friend pulled on his hand, gently. He looked at where the spot where it connected in the end.

“I think you casted a circle.” She whispered in his ear, a tad of sweetness in her voice. “You did it.”

“H-huh?” He stuttered at the exact same moment he realized he was still holding her hand.

She let go, though. It made his heart clench in the way he missed the warmth of human touch. He expected it oddly enough. She was still getting comfortable around him and he was lucky she even put up with considering he initiated it. 

“I can’t even get out now to go get the stuff for besom.” She chuckled in the thick air as she noticed the red wagon was left by the rock. “I guess you’ll have to dismantle it.”

“You know there’s a way to go and out, right?” He asked.

“No, but it doesn’t matter. Why don’t we just relax here for a bit, anyway?”

She sat on the ground within the circle before she leaned back at the bright green grass with her arms behind her head. Her dark purple hair spread out around her, some parts turn red in the sun let in. The white light leaked in through the ivy to make her eyes sparkle and her hair look shiny and smooth.

“What about Johnny?” He teased as he sat down next to her.

She shrugged, “He’s gonna be mad regardless of when we come back. Why don’t we get a nice day out of it before we get yelled at? We won’t be back here, at least not for some time.”

For awhile, they just laid their in the oddly warm grass. It wasn’t until later they actually did anything productive. She helped him get his besom ready, the air becoming slightly cooler as the afternoon seemed to pass by. They sat in the exact same spots in the middle of the clearing, across from each other.

“So, are you excited for summer solstice?” She asked in the mist of silence.

“Of course!” He answered. “It’s the one time of year where I can see the future for myself.”

“And according to the Romanian witches, it’s also the one time of year where you can make love potions that actually work.”

“Yes, I do actually. I’m surprised you know that actually.”

“I was just wondering... if you are gonna make any? You know for me?”

He froze in his spot as she asked the question to him so nonchalantly. His eyes even bugged out of his head as his the rest of his face remained relatively blank. At the same time, maybe she wasn’t stuble poking at him having a crush on her... Maybe she wanted one herself but for who? Lucas?

“What would you even need one for?” Donghyuck grumbled as he went back to work.

“I guess I didn’t phrase it right.” She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “I meant, are you gonna make any for me for yourself?”

It was no longer easy to avoid the question by playing dumb unfortunately. It was too apparent that he had a thing for her anyway. He was a fool for thinking she wouldn’t know or figure it out. To even deny it would do no good.

“No,” He stated. “If you’re going to fall in love with me, I want it to be natural, not artificial. I wouldn’t like knowing you don’t love me for the sake of loving me…”

“That’s very beautiful of you, Haechan.” She smiled.

He hummed with a nod as a response. The both of them went back to working on besom. He avoided looking up for the rest of the time they were there like that. It was silent between them too but the bugs flying around and such filled it. It was warm, he sun light that seeped through the ivy was comforting and seemed like it could coaxed anyone into a nap right then.

It was truly the most calm and peaceful it had been for quite some time for them. The days leading up to the solstice were also that way. Donghyuck remained excited throughout their work day which put a smile on the girl’s face. The night was the most important time for it all though.

A fire burned bright a away from the grounds. Their newly founded friends even came to support him, mostly because Cosimia said how much the whole thing meant to him. All they really had to do was hold a candle and a specific type of plant they picked themselves the other day. To be honest, seeing everyone there for him made him feel so happy especially after the last time of where he was just ignored.

Nothing really happened until the clock stroke midnight though. It was time, by what the books said, ‘to open the sky’ which was most exhilarating part of it all. It would give him the power to see into future. He got his besom and lit the end of little twigs on fire before he raised it toward the sky. He felt awkward about it, just like with casting a circle the other day and also a bit heavy but continued regardless.

He started to mumble a spell as his besom was pointed toward the moon. The others that stood around him could barely make out a thing he was saying, the crackles from the fire not helping. He hadn’t notice but the end pointed toward the sky was becoming brighter and hotter. The other sure did take notice though, most of them scared as they only stood there.

They waited, there had to be more right? He still hadn’t seen anything yet and let alone feel anything besides the heaviness in his chest thinking maybe it wasn’t real... Though, in a sudden move, he fell back and dropped the rest of his besom in the fire before he saw himself be engulf in darkness. The darkness suddenly turned white. He saw another verison of himself, burning away much like a picture would only to reveal Cosimia. She was covered in ivy. Her father, he’d only seen once appeared out of no where with a crazed look in his eye. All he saw was the color of gold before he back to where he was before.

He found himself on the ground, rocks digging into his back and a painful headache. Everyone surrounded him with a concerned look on his face. Mostly he only saw the girl as she was the one cradling his head.

“A-are you okay?” Xiaojun asked.

“Oh, how many fingers am I holding up?” Jeno butted in while putting up two fingers.

“Dude,” Jaehyun started. “He could literally have a concussion, not now.”

“Y’all ain’t gonna talk about how he wasn’t just vibrating?” Jaemin brought up. “That literally can’t be a concussion!”

“Vibrating?” He questioned as he wondered what exactly happened when he went into state.

“Will you all just shut up?” The girl snapped.

“Is it a bad time to say Kun called the paramedics?” Lucas informed quietly from behind the boys. “They’re gonna be here soon but does Haechan even need to go to the hospital since he looks okay now.”

“Nothing wrong with a check up after what happened.” She sighed as she played with his silver hair a little bit which took his mind off the pain.

“Okay... but did you see anything though?” Hendery laughed nervously.

“Hendery!” Sicheng hissed whole hitting him in the arm

“What? I’d like to know!”

“No, not really.... Just some colors but that was about it...”

“Well, that’s boring.”

“Hendery!”

[andrewhq]

Oh, would you still offer your embrace (if it's another place you'd find me in?)

tags: War AU, Pirate AU, Witcher AU, GTA V AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Travelling through universes and stuff

AO3 Mirror link

A man in his bunk takes out a picture in his pocket and stares at it. It’s the last picture he took of Thomas, his lover, before being drafted into the military and forced to serve his country. That’s where he is now, fighting for his country.

He took the picture on Christmas night the previous year, 1940. He was arriving late to the party and saw his lover at the window. He took the opportunity to snap a picture of him, then knocked on the window. When his lover looked at him with the warmest smile, and from the outside he mouthed:

“You look dreamy tonight.”

His lover laughed, although he couldn’t hear it, he still cherished every moment of it.

He has something written on the side of the picture:

“Things to love the list

Ø

Øone your eyes forever

Too too 2 many things”

He keeps the written part folded over so the other soldiers can't see when he looks at it every night with the light of a small candle.

They ask who the man in the picture is and "someone important to me who died" because that's easier to explain somehow.

When he comes back home, people keep telling him that his lover actually died, that there was a bombing in the port while he waited for someone whose name he never spoke of. People thought of the man as mad. Every single day waiting for this unknown person. There was no way he would've survived that.

The man never broke down as hard as he did at that moment, he even ran to where the bombing happened, screaming for Thomas in desperation. Even his lover’s father told him there was no use in searching for him any longer

The army man gave up that very night, he just couldn't take it anymore. He would be nothing without his love.

--

On an island, the time unknown, a boy stumbled upon a photo of a man on the ground, a really old looking picture, dated 1940 (he couldn’t remember what year was currently), with a man so beautiful, he almost lost his breath. There's a name on the back that signs the owner of the picture. "Jordan S. Maron."

"Weird." He thought out loud since his name matched the one from the back of the picture. There was something in him telling him to search for this man in the picture. And search he did. Far and wide, high and low, trying to at least find an answer to the whereabouts of this mysterious beautiful man.

A ship came to the island he was stuck on. Jordan didn’t even get a say, he was immediately captured by the pirates and forced to slave away on the ship. For a while, that was how his life was. Sweeping floors, cleaning shit, being pushed around, and yelled at constantly. It wasn’t a pleasant life. He would spend the days working and the nights just staring emptily at the picture of the man.

One night he almost lost the picture. The Captain caught him staring at it and ripped it out of his hands. Jordan never screamed so loud in his life. He couldn’t lose the picture.

He used his chains to choke out the Captain, taking his picture back when the Captain stopped breathing. A few pirates heard the commotion and came to see the scene, their Captain dead at the feet of the slave.

From that day on, Jordan became a Captain himself. The Captain of the ship that captured him and made him a slave. It was pirate law or something. He wasn’t the most ruthless pirate in the world, but his devotion to balance scared the rest of the pirates. There was no messing with the Captain if you messed with the balance.

For a while, the ship travelled aimlessly, Jordan refusing to tell his crew where they were going. The truth was that he didn’t know himself where he was going. Just that he needed to find the man in the picture.

He arrived on an island one day. He saw smoke coming from it and went to see what was happening. The forest was on fire, a volcano erupted. He saw someone on the shore, so he got down to the island to see if it could be a potential survivor.

His breath got caught in his throat as he saw the man in the picture laying on the beach of the island. He ran to him as fast as he could, falling to his knees to check his pulse, to check any signs of life. But he could feel nothing. Nothing at all. His purpose, his reason for living, was dead in his arms.

He put heavy rocks in both of their pockets and pouches, then picked up the man, and started heading into the waves and slowly sinking with them.

--

As he was riding on a horse, a piece of paper flew into a man’s face, making him stop in his tracks. It was a really detailed small painting of a man, man so beautiful, he almost lost his breath. There's a name on the back that signs the owner of the picture. "Jordan S. Maron."

"Weird." He thought out loud since his name matched the one from the back of the picture. There was something in him telling him to search for this man in the picture. So he did. Not like he had anything better to do. He was a Witcher, constantly on the run, not belonging to anywhere or anyone. So finding a man from a painting that had his name written on felt right.

He stopped at a tavern in a nearby town and showed off the painting to people. Most did not recognize the man at all. Jordan huffed. Well, this would be harder than he expected.

He traveled to a different kingdom eventually, showing off the picture at every stop.

Eventually, someone recognized him.

“He’s the Prince, Witcher. Better get rid of the picture before someone tells on you that you have some painting of him. It’s not gonna bide well for you.” A drunken man told him after he downed his fifth mead of the night.

Jordan was quiet as he put the painting back in his pouch.

“What is the Prince’s name?” He asked.

“You should know. It’s Thomas.”

Thomas, huh?

He left the tavern late in the night and went to the castle. He didn’t want to enter, he just wanted to see him, just to confirm that the Prince was really who he was looking for.

Before he could get close to the castle, a hooded figure ran into him.

“Whoa, I am so deeply sorry! I did not mean to bust into you like that!” The hooded figure said. The voice felt so familiar, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Jordan lifted his candle to see the man better. When he did, he saw that the hood fell off the man’s head. That was when he realized. That was Thomas . That was the man he was looking for.

“You’re… the prince? What are you doing out here so late?” Jordan asked.

“You’re a witcher, what are you doing near the castle?” The Prince immediately snarked back. Jordan couldn’t help but laugh.

Thomas crossed his arms together and puffed his chest. God, he was so adorable.

His thoughts were cut off when he heard shouts from nearby. When he went to warn the Prince, he saw a sword pushed through his chest and Jordan’s eyes went wide. Masked men stared right at the Witcher. He could see the one that had his sword in the Prince smirking at him as he pulled his sword out.

Jordan was raging. He chased after the masked men as far as he could but eventually lost them. He went back to where the Prince died and dropped to his knees. He wanted to cry, to scream, but did none of those.

When the guards came in, they accused Jordan of murdering the Prince. He didn’t even argue with them. He felt like he did anyway.

The Witcher was executed the following day for the murder of Prince Thomas of Cassell.

--

As he was running on the streets of Los Santos, a man tripped and stumbled upon a photo of a man on the ground, a really old looking picture, dated 1940, with a man so beautiful, he almost lost his breath. There's a name on the back that signs the owner of the picture. "Jordan S. Maron."

"Weird." He thought out loud since his name matched the one from the back of the picture. There was something in him telling him to search for this man in the picture. But right then he was busy running away. The police were after him after all. He pocketed the picture and took off once again.

He hid between the large brushes of a car wash and waited until the police passed, making sure no camera was following him (luckily for him, that car wash had only one CCTV near the front of its store and none at the car wash itself). From between the brushes, he managed to take off his mask, change his clothes, and put the cash into a backpack, different from the bag he was carrying.

“You motherfucker, you made it!” he heard a voice coming through his earpiece. Jordan couldn’t help but grin smugly. The voice belonged to Declan, one of his crewmates. “I mean it should’ve been obvious, cuz you’re the boss. Still in awe of it every time.”

Jordan shook his head as he looked for the bus station to find his way back to the HQ.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Jordan said, even though it was that big of a deal. “We’ve been doing this for years, haven’t we?”

“You got a point, boss.” Declan agreed.

On the bus to the HQ, Jordan couldn’t stop staring at the picture. The man felt familiar, yet he had no idea who he was.

Weeks passed, Jordan didn’t forget about the picture, but he was a little too busy with his crew to be able to constantly search for a man who could probably be dead by now. He looked at the picture again as he sat on the rooftop of a building with his sniper rifle resting just barely over the edge. He sighed. Why was he so obsessed with finding this man?

Well, that could wait, he had a job to finish. He looked through the sniper rifle and tried to find his target. The sight of blue hair caught his attention. When he finally focused on the person, it was… the man in the picture. He held his breath as he watched him, happily chatting away with some people. He also spotted his target, chatting with the man. Through the bug planted in the room, he could hear their conversation. They mostly talked about business, selling and renting houses, the state of real estate, stuff that Jordan didn’t really care about. He then finally heard it.

Tom .

That was the man’s name. Tom. Thomas. That name felt so familiar. He tried to listen further, maybe he could hear his last name. When it sounded like the target was about to say his full name, Dec came through his earpiece and completely cut the audio from the room.

“What are you doing, Cap? You have a perfect shot!”

Jordan groaned. He lined up his shot again, moving it away from the man with blue hair, and focused it on the target. Then he shot. Straight in the head. Before the target even dropped down on the floor, Jordan picked up his grappling hook and shot it to the other building, sliding on the wire to the other side and breaking through the window. The rest of his crew also came in, guns out. More people came in, shots started being fired everywhere. Jordan went straight for the blue-haired man who looked scared and confused.

“Get out of here, Tom!” Jordan yelled and tried to push Tom away into the hallway.

But before he could do so, a member from the other crew shot Tom in the abdomen and he dropped down dead. Jordan had never screamed so loud in his life. He was stunned.

Before Jordan could do anything, he got shot in the chest and dropped down on the ground, his crewmates screaming after him. He didn’t survive, but maybe it was better that way.

Jordan gasped as he woke up, then a nurse immediately told him to calm down. It was one of the crew nurses. He didn’t die.

Before he blacked out again, he asked the nurse “Did he live too?”

He didn’t manage to hear the nurse’s answer as darkness took over once again.

After waking up a couple more times, undergoing some surgery, and weeks of healing passed, Jordan was finally allowed to leave the medical ward of their HQ.

He found Dec first.

“You look much better, boss.” Dec smiled at him.

“Yeah, I guess.” Jordan looked very lost, the memory of Tom being shot in the chest haunting his mind. “Do you know who had been leaving me flowers?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Dec asked surprised. “Huh, you two didn’t manage to catch each other…”

Jordan narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Who?”

“Tom? The guy with blue hair you jumped in front of a bullet for?”

Tom was alive?! Jordan’s eyes went wide.

“Where is he?” Jordan grabbed Dec by the shoulders and shook him until he answered.

“Jeez, slow down man, he should be somewhere around HQ, I don’t know!”

Jordan immediately took off through the HQ. He needed to find Tom again. He needed to make sure he actually was alive and this wasn’t some sick joke.

“Where are you running, mate?” The British accent was unmistakable. “Aren’t you supposed to re-”

Before Tom could finish his sentence, Jordan went to hug him tightly.

“I’m so happy to see you again, Tom.” He couldn’t help the tears streaming down his face.

Again? , he caught himself saying. When did he meet this man again? As far as he knew this was the first time he’d seen him.

“I missed you too, dummy.” Tom said, a smile on his face, his voice sounding rough from trying to keep himself from crying as well.

Those words felt like warm honey being dripped on his heart. It hurt, even though he couldn’t quite remember. And Tom couldn’t remember either.

But maybe it was better if they never knew the tragedy of their love story.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Fall Back to the Jet

Summary- Bucky x Y/N (Steve, Natasha, and Sam features) Cap tells you to fall back to the Quinnjet, but you decide on another option. Lucky Buckys close by. Warning- Violence, swearing. Written for @hopingforbarnes​ 250 Writing Challenge. Congrats!!!! Prompt is in bold italiacs. 

Word Count- 1.9k

It was all going smooth till Steve spoke directly to you in his com “Y/N, we have it from here, fall back to the quinnjet” 

You were still the rookie although its been a year, and Steve was the Captain, No one defies the captain, except for you. You eyed the open doorway the hydra agent just went into, taking a deep breath as your resolve settled, you werent going to sit on the quinjet any longer while the rest cleaned up. Ducking into the dark doorway, you stalked down the stairs while hearing your name being yelled at in the com “Y/N, I TOLD YOU TO FALL BACK” Sorry Cap, not this time. 

There are times in your life you maybe regret a decision, this was one of them. You thought the room was clear, sweeping your sights back and forth from the other end of a rifle, when there was a clip to the back of your head, knocking you forward and stupidly dropping your gun. “You Mother Fucker!” you yelp, and turn to face your opponent, twisting your head slightly to knock out the kink he put in your neck. He was well over twice your size, his meaty hands flexing to get around that slim column of your neck, you could see it in his eyes when he lunged at you, side stepping around him with a kick. It was like bouncing your foot off cement and didnt phase him much, smirking at you as he came at you again. “SHIT!” you state as you start blocking and trying to attack back. 

“Bucky you got her?” Steve hissed as they barged into a lab and Steve threw up the shield, blocking the barrage of bullets aimed at the two men. 

“Yea I got her” Bucky ducking behind the shield and once in a while lifting behind from it and aiming his own specially trained on targets rounds, he twisted away and went back out the way he came, using his vibranium arm to slam open doors to see them empty. “Come on Y/N, where the hell are you?” He snarled, until he heard you cussing out someone and the shallow sound of flesh getting pounded on. He hoped that it would be you doing the pounding, but when he opened the door, that certainly wasnt the case. 

Bucky came into you looking twisted around the mans arm, and him slamming you down into the floor, doing your best to keep your head from being bashed in, attempting a kick into his face, his throat, just about anywhere to get him to release his hold. Blood ran down the side of your face from your scalp and your words were flying just as much as anytime youve ever been pissed off, regardless of the situation. “If you dont let me the fuck go you dick wilted asswipe, Im gonna rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat.” If Bucky wasnt scared as hell for you at the moment, he would have rolled his eyes at you, once he realized the way you were being flung back and forth wasnt gonna allow him to take a shot, he shouldered the weapon.Close attack it would be 

Without another pause, Bucky strode forward, his strides wide and his metal arm slammed into the hyrdra agents side of the head, jarring his hand to open wrapped around your neck and you fell to the floor from a considerable height,snapping the back of your skull against the cement with a sharp cry. Rolling away from the two men clashing like titans above you. Bucky was shorter in stature then the hydra agent was, but much more quick on his feet, as well as being a super soldier, it wasnt exactly a fair hand on hand fight. Within minutes the agent was merely blocking the bone rattling blows Bucky was issuing, you were crawling across the floor to where you dropped your weapon, sitting back and putting it to your shoulder, waiting to get a clear shot.

Buckys silver hand wrapped around the back of the mans neck, the plates clinking as he tightened pressure and swung him around right in the aim of your shot, you lining hydra right up in your cross hairs, and pulling the trigger. Barnes turned his face away to keep from getting splattered from brain matter and blood. Loosening his hold, the hydras body, minus the top of his skull, collapsed with a dull thud. You lower the rifle and wince, placing your hand against your head. “Bucky... he got me pretty good.” Your vision going in and out at the moment. 

“Jesus Christ Doll” He hisses as he sidesteps around the body and goes to you, his hands cupping your face to look in your eyes. “Can you focus on me?” You blink a few times and wide eyed stare right at him best you can. 

“Hows that?” You question, grinning stupidly since your just glad Bucky got there in time. He frowned a bit and sighed, wrapping you in his arm to get you to stand. 

“Steve, I got her, Im taking her back to the Jet.” He spoke, not to you though and you didnt bother trying to get an answer. With his assistance, you two hobbled, less with sleuth, but with plenty of pauses for Bucky to check to make sure the coast was clear, the two of you headed outside. Sam was already in the jet, waiting on the two of you. 

“Steve and Nat are finishing up downloading the computer files, then they will join us. Come on Kid, I got a spot waiting for you.” 

“She had her head hit pretty badly” Bucky stated as you two followed Sam inside, going to sit you down, a wave of nausea threatened to upchuck whatever breakfast was, which what was that again? Oh yea, bowl of Wheaties, you remarking to Steve and Bucky this morning across the table. 

“Breakfast of Champs!” You werent exactly feeling like a champ right now. 

Sam looked you over to, prying one eyelid open, then the other. “I think shes going to be okay, but once we reach the compound we will be able to take a closer look.” Bucky settled in beside you and you pried them open once more. 

“Thanks for coming for me.” 

It was this moment Steve and Natasha returned, Steve snapping past you without acknowledging you at the moment. “Get us home Sam” his voice clipped, and Natasha plopped down next to you, her eyes brimming with worry. “Hey, we win some, we loose some right? You also got a hard head, I know.” She teased, having sparred and tumbled with you plenty of times. Steve stayed up at the front with Sam for the moment, but once he was sure you were okay, back home, you were most likely gonna get one of the famous Cap speeches youve seen him dish out to other agents. For now you were content to lay your head on Buckys shoulder, his hand resting against his knee, palm up. Without hesitating, you weave your fingers with his and he gives them a gentle squeeze. It might amaze others just how gentle he could be with that vibranium limb of his. Not you though. 

When the jet lands, you walk off, much more in control then before, but Bucky still hovers nearby and follows you into the medic bay. Quickly your head is checked over, a flashlight shining in your eyes, follow the finger, clean up the scrapes and blood. “Your gonna be dizzy for a few days, so nothing strenuous.” 

In this moment, you were okay with that. 

Steve came in, his demeanor still snapping in anger, but a touch calmer then before. He glanced at the medic and asked “Please, give us a few moments Ma’am, then you can have your patient back.” Bucky moved to take over bandaging the rest of you up as the medic left the room to the three of you. 

He looked at you, hands moving to rest against his hips as he seemed to asses you. “I heard your okay, Y/N. Good, you gave your team quite a scare.” You did have the audacity to look a bit sheepish, but felt the need to defend your actions. “I know, I honestly thought I had him.” 

“Thought, not good enough. Your still fairly new to the team...” This caused a look from you while Bucky patched up the back of your head as best he could. “So I think a bit more team building practices are in order Y/N. Until then, field work is off the table.” 

“What? Steve, come on.” You go to push Bucky back so you can stand up, but hes firm, firmer then you can give him credit for. “It was one mistake, I made a bad call.” 

“Yea, could have gotten you killed. Your always trying to think solo and you just cant. Were a team Y/N. We work together. Ive already made the decision.” 

You kinda gape as Steve turns to leave, fuming. You swear your heads going to blow like in those old bugs bunny cartoons where it goes off like a train whistle. “That son of a bitch just benched me. BENCHED ME!” This time you manage to move to a stand, about to storm off after Steve, but Bucky caught your arm and sat your ass back down. 

“Youve got to calm down before I can fix you up, Okay?” Bucky said calmly as he works diligently. His hands just as gentle as ever, you can barely even tell hes doing anything. You stay as still as you can, fighting back frustrated tears at the Captain benching you like this. Your tired and sore, your reaction just adding to your already bad day. “It was one mistake, one. I just hate always being told to go back to the jet when I could be helping you guys out. It was a bad call on my part, but fuck... I just wanted to be useful. I cant believe how bad this has turned into.” 

Bucky is silent for a moment before he pulls back and studies your face momentarily, and sighs. “Listen, I will talk to Steve, okay? Right now hes just being a dick. He will give everyone else crap about not following orders, but damned if he does.” You wipe at your face to get rid of the frustrated tears build up and arched your brows, hopeful. 

“You would really do that Bucky? If he says yes, I promise I wont mess up again.” 

“Course I would, and let me tell you, Steve wouldnt have listened either.” He went to pick up the tools and waste sitting on the table nearby, and scrubbed his hands clean. “Let him just cool off, hes probably speaking in worry as well Y/N. He doesnt always show it, but your just as much family as the rest of us.” 

Tentatively you go to stand, touching the bandages he finished securing gently and wincing. Without even asking he held out some aspirin that you popped immediately. “How about we go crash on the couch? You still owe me live commentary on that second little people going to drop some jewelry in a fiery hole movie. What was it again?”

This caused you to laugh. “The Twin Towers? Sounds good Bucky” 

@what-is-your-plan-today​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @p8tn0lish​ 

[on-fic-writing-spree]

I’m gonna write?? A shit load of things I do down and uh can anyone tell me if these are normal things or not cause god I fucking hate not knowing and it tears me apart sometimes cause I really think there’s something wrong with me but I can’t say WHATS wrong with me and I hate not knowing but

Shit I do that honestly leads me to believe I have OCD or something at least:

I get into these weird moods where anytime I do something to one part of my body, I feel a need to do it to an opposite corresponding part. Even sometimes when it’s painful (mildly painful, I luckily haven’t gotten into these moods and seriously injure myself). If I don’t do it right I have to do it again. For example, if I tap my left first finger on something, I either have to tap all my fingers on my left hand, or my right finger. If my foot hits a wire, I have to hit my other foot on it. If I feel something under my nail and scrape my thumb under that nail, I have to repeatedly do it to each of my nails until it feels “right.”

If something doesn’t shut “right” I have to reshut it.

I can’t drink out of a cup anymore without rinsing it out. I standardly do this three times.

This one is kinda about something more personal but at one point we had bed bugs more recently (within the past two years I’ll give vaguely) and they were a huge pain to get rid of. When I was younger, the houses we lived in were real shit and they were far from clean (meaning yes there were bugs, this was when I was super young) and when I was a really little kid??? It never bothered me. But then when I had found out we had bed bugs and it was just such a pain in the ass to get rid of them, I couldn’t sleep, I straight up sat on my dresser all night and waited until morning. Then I’d tear apart my room, excessively vacuum, sweep, pour rubbing alcohol down all before I told my mom they were still there (my mom actually caught me tearing apart my bed frame to try and pour rubbing alcohol on it) and I just?? Broke the fuck down. Really badly. My mom bought heaters and we’ve rid ourselves of that problem luckily, but it absolutely?? Tore me the fuck apart, and that’s something I’ve developed rather than always felt.

Dirt under my nails (or anything) drives me nuts

Certain sounds or feelings make me grit and grind my teeth they feel awful

Textures in food fuck me up. Like any sort of seasoning that doesn’t dissolve besides pepper fucks me the fuck up when I’m trying to eat. I can’t swallow it. It isn’t like it doesn’t taste good, I can’t swallow it if the texture isn’t right.

Textures also fuck me up in terms of weird ass shit like my tomatoes have to be an exact firmness that’s consistent for the whole tomato or I won’t fucking touch it.

Intrusive thoughts and nightmares. They’re fucking bad. They’re really fucking bad and I can spend so long obsessing over them. Other times I have nightmares that I’m just so desensitized to that I don’t even react. Some of them I genuinely don’t think I could even say out loud because they were that terrifying and sickening.

If I touch raw meat, I wash my hands so many times. I actually once tried to keep count, and I washed my hands 7 times in the span of 10 minutes (and that’s what I could keep track of).

If anything touches anything that may have touched raw meat, it has to be cleaned twice, and I have to wash my hands. For example, if spill a little flour on the counter while making fried chicken, I have to wipe down the counter once to get off the flour, a second time with an anti bacterial cleaner (usually I do this more than once though). If a knife might have touched the bag that held a marinade (despite not getting the marinade on it) it has to be washed twice. I wash all dishes that involved raw meat twice.

Usually I don’t freak out about things that aren’t cleaned until I really notice them. My anxiety spikes while I clean, so while I’m wiping down the stovetop, I notice some grime on the handle bars, then I notice it at the edges of the oven, then I realize the whole front hasn’t been cleaned, and next thing I know I’ve been cleaning the stove for two hours and I can’t stop cleaning other things in the kitchen, constantly telling myself “it’s just this and this... and this... and that... and this...” and it drives me nuts if I get sent to bed before I can finish.

I’ve literally?? Started crying because my sister put something in some spot in the fridge and I was like “why would you put that there” and she was like “idk if you don’t like it do it yourself” and really I didn’t so I just started recognizing the fridge.

Yesterday: I drank out of a water bottle, not sure if it was mine or not, I glanced it and honestly I have no clue if it was air bubbles or backwash, but I immediately start gagging. So I go brush my teeth (with way too much toothpaste, and way too rough) and then rinse my mouth out 5 times, then go back out, get a new water bottle and rinse out my mouth until I am certain (you know how saliva is like more slimy than water??) that I only have water in my mouth. As if ANY OF THIS affects that I already drank the damn water.

Another weird thing I did recently: my cousin was doing my makeup, and she was using this homemade (as in like one of those DIY makeup kits) lipstick except she mentioned she had put the coloring from a nail polish in it and she got a little on my teeth. I couldn’t swallow my spit for about an hour, constantly spitting into the trash, and she had suggested maybe I just get a cup to spit into (the kid is a genius). It was a kid’s makeup kit!!! There’s nothing harmful in that shit!!! Anyway I ended up brushing my teeth several times and then forcing myself to swallow after rinsing out my mouth several times.

Sometimes people’s existence??? Just bothers the fuck out of me. Like my brother will be standing in the kitchen when I’m doing dishes, a few feet away and doing nothing, and his mere existence is just enough to piss me off. I just don’t think that’s normal???

After I wash the dishes, I have to wash my hands. Like my hands were just in soapy water?? Is there a point??

Despite all of this, I can’t keep my room clean for shit, but I know my makeup has to be organized in a specific way.

I get paranoid as shit that I’m going to hurt people, or that people will hurt themselves around me. Like there will be a knife somewhere near by and my brain will deadass think it’s going to drop and cut someone, so I MUST shove it back even though it wasn’t on the edge.

I once cried?? Because someone sent me a picture of a cup teetering on the edge of a table and god fuck??? I couldn’t stop?? It was so ridiculous???

I can’t write using pencils without a perfectly flat surface. I mean like textbook top kind of thing. Or if I’m drawing, I can use a mechanical one. But otherwise?? If I’m writing on top of wood?? Or desks that are made of that granite shit with the littlest texture differences?? No I can’t I have to write in pen and I’ve gotten in trouble from teachers for this

I don’t know. There’s more I’m sure. But like?? Can anyone with OCD or who shows a lot of these symptoms actually tell me if this is normal or if this is smth that’s actually not okay up with me? Cause idk it really fucks me up not knowing because I feel like there HAS to be an explanation???

[mindfulwrathwrites]

What Is This, An Elder God For Ants?

A story about a cosmic horror, told from the perspective of the cosmic horror.

Words: 1,937 Warnings: Animal death

View on main site

...

I used to have an ant problem in my kitchen. It's probably not what you're picturing—they didn't get into the sugar or set up camp in the coffee. I kind of wish they had. There's people who deal with that kind of thing for a living.

No, I'm pretty sure the ants in my kitchen found religion.

I don't remember exactly when it started. There wasn't any big event, any one moment I can pick out and say "this is Point A." At some point, ants got into my kitchen. It was probably spring, because that's when ants get into kitchens. They did ant things for a while. I didn't bother getting rid of them because I was in a really shitty place and just dragging myself out of bed in the morning was almost too much. The ants were just the shitty icing on a shitty cake, and I couldn't be assed to care about them.

Thinking back on it, that's probably why I didn't worry too much when it did start to get weird.

The first time I remember, it was early in the morning, probably on a Monday. I wake up before sunrise so I can get to work before rush hour hits, so my commute only takes an hour instead of two. That's not important, really, it's just that it was early and my brain hadn't turned on yet. There was only one ant on my kitchen counter. It wasn't running around, looking for food, following pheromone trails, or anything that ants usually do. It was just kind of standing there, waving its antennae, occasionally turning side to side like it was lost, or something. Waiting for something. It was tiny, I mean, all the ants were tiny, but it never really registered before then. Watching it, waiting for my coffee to brew, I started to feel kind of sorry for it.

Stupid, but what can you do. I might have let a little sugar spill off my spoon on the way to my coffee. I might have let it fall right in front of that tiny, lost ant. I might have done it on purpose, I don't know. I forgot about it ten seconds later. I didn't remember about it for another two weeks.

The next time I noticed something weird, there were a lot of ants.

Not a lot of ants in like, a swarm kind of way. Probably there were only about a dozen of them, but they were all just standing there, all just waiting—and all facing towards the edge of the counter. I don't think they were watching me. I did feel like they were waiting, probably for me to drop more sugar.

I smushed one of them. I'd had a hard week, and the last thing I wanted was my stupid sleep-deprived empathy attracting a shitload of ants. The other ones freaked out, started running around in circles, trying to find their pheromone trails. I think I smushed all of them. Certainly most of them. If I'm honest, I was a little creeped out at that point. I don't know why. Maybe I thought the ghosts of all those ants I'd killed would come back to haunt me. They didn't, of course. For a long time, there were hardly any ants at all, and so I forgot about it. I got back to the drudgery of living my life, one day at a time. It wasn't like I had anything else to do.

The next time I noticed, there wasn't any getting around how weird it was.

It was right around dawn again, and I was making coffee. At first, I didn't even notice the ants—or I didn't notice that they were ants. They were standing around again, very still, except they were in a circle. A really neat, really perfect circle. They were all moving their antennae, in a way I'd never seen ants do before. It looked coordinated, somehow. It was probably my eyes playing tricks on me. They were so small, it would be hard to make out that kind of detail, especially with sleep-blurred vision.

I dropped some sugar into the middle of the circle, just to see what would happen. The ants didn't move. I shrugged and got on with my day. When I got back that night, the sugar was gone, and so were the ants. Fine by me. I decided I must have dreamed the part with the circle. I didn't really believe it, but I pretended I did.

Couple days later, they were back, circled up again. There was one ant in the middle this time. I smushed it, still don't really know why. The others ran away. I felt bad. I left some sugar.

I think that's how it all went so wrong.

The next time I found an ant-circle, there was an ant in the middle again—only it was a different species of ant, much bigger, and it was already dead. Well, that was pretty weird, but at least it wasn't alive. I got my tweezers and I put it in the trash, and then I left some sugar for my tiny ant buddies. When I got to thinking of them as buddies, I don't know. I didn't really have any friends, and everything was such a damn struggle, and I actually kind of liked the little guys. They weren't hurting anything, they didn't eat much, they didn't get into anything but my kitchen counter. They were buddies. I didn't mind them.

Over the next few days, they brought me more dead ants. I took the big dead ants away and left sugar. The next week, they brought me a dead cockroach. I loved these ants, these ants were the best! My place had had a roach problem for years, and nothing I'd done had taken care of them, so if my little buddies wanted to do it? Awesome! Good arrangement! Have some sugar, little fellas, you did good.

A couple more roaches. A centipede. I didn't give them anything for the centipede, because those are useful predators and they'd never bothered me, really. Another roach, sugar. A spider, no sugar. A really big roach, a lot of sugar. Was the circle of ants getting bigger? Who knows. It was better pest control than my landlord could be assed with, and it cost me less than a teaspoon of sugar a week. It was such a cool little arrangement that I actually started feeling less shitty—I washed dishes regularly, cleaned (most of) my living area, did laundry, fed my ants. I started thinking of them like pets.

At some point, the ant-circle became a double ring, then a triple ring. They brought me a dead wasp. I was impressed, although a little bit unsettled. I think it was the wasp that lived over my patio door, which—sure, it was a nuisance, and I'd been meaning to kill it, but it was weird that the ants knew. I tried to convince myself that the ants didn't know, they'd just found the wasp when it got inside, or something. It was fine. I gave them lots of sugar. They did good. My little ant buddies, doing nice things for me.

Sometime around August, they brought me a dead frog.

I couldn't even tell it was dead at first. My kitchen is dark in the mornings. It was sitting on the counter, four rings of ants around it. It was very, very still. I was scared it was going to jump away. I turned the lights on. It didn't move. It was covered in bumps, so I thought it was a toad. It wasn't a toad. It was a dead frog, gone gray and dry and very, very still. Covered in ant bites.

I probably stood there for five minutes, just trying to understand. I got a couple of unopened credit-card scams and kind of swept the dead frog up. It was stiff and it was heavy and it was still dead. I put it in a ziplock bag and put the bag in the trash. I put the mail I'd used to sweep it up in the trash, too.

I smashed every ant I could find.

They ran, they broke like a panicked crowd and ran, but I didn't stop until I couldn't find any more of them. I was sick to my stomach for days. Anytime I saw an ant, I killed it on sight. I couldn't stop thinking about that dead frog on my counter. I sprayed the whole kitchen down with lysol, and then bug spray. I caulked up every crack I could see. I had no idea how the little bastards had gotten the thing inside. It must have taken hundreds of them to kill it, hours to drag it inside and onto my kitchen counter. I got new weather stripping for the doors and windows. I didn't go out much. I killed every ant I saw, but there were always more ants.

I decided that I needed to kill the whole nest, and that would be the end of it. Once I'd killed the nest, maybe I could sleep again.

It took me a while to find it, a lot of hunting around outside. I figured it had to be near my kitchen, and it was. It wasn't a big nest, or at least it wasn't a big mound. Maybe it went deep, or sprawled, but I wasn't thinking much about that. I wasn't thinking much about anything except the dead frog on my kitchen counter. I filled up my tea kettle and set it to boiling. It wasn't a long wait, comparatively. It felt like it took hours.

By the time the kettle whistled, there was one ant on my kitchen counter.

It was right up on the edge, holding very still, waving its tiny antennae. It was facing me. It was so small, they'd always been so small, and it was looking at me. Huge me, towering me, boiling up the apocalypse for its tiny, tiny world.

The ants didn't know. The ants couldn't have understood the difference between a roach and a wasp, a wasp and a frog. I wasn't sure I understood what the difference was. I'd trained them, really. I'd trained them to kill things and bring me the bodies. It wasn't their fault that they didn't know where the line was.

But I didn't want any more dead frogs.

I picked up the kettle. I opened the lid. I started pouring boiling water on my kitchen counter, slowly. I wanted to know if the ant would run. It did run. I kept pouring. It ran all the way back to the molding, up the backsplash, behind the electrical socket. I kept pouring until the ant was gone. My hand was wet and stinging with steam. I put the kettle down. I cleaned up the water. I caulked up the spaces around the electrical socket.

I haven't seen an ant in my kitchen since.

At the start of spring this year, I went out to check on the nest. I've been feeling pretty shitty about the whole thing, and I wanted to know if the ants were still there. They are. It's weird, though, the nest doesn't look like it used to, and it's the kind of thing that convinces me I didn't imagine the whole thing like one big stress dream.

It's hard to tell, because the perspective is awfully weird, but these days that anthill kind of looks like a frog.

[girls-scenarios]

List 1 promt 16 & 17 with LOONA (and maybe a reader?) Thank you💕

Loona / Halloween Prompts

16. “I told you guys this Ouija Board wasn’t a good idea.” + 17. After deciding to conduct a test of courage, a group of friends ends up lost in the woods with an unknown animal hunting them.

Admin Kiwi

A/N: I used their real names in this (for the most part). Also this is long as heck but I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: This is another horror-themed prompt. No happy ending here. If you don’t like horror, then I’d suggest you skip past this one.

A full moon hung above the woods, casting shadows down against the girls’ faces as they looked up at the mouth of the trees. It was past midnight now, deep into the night, and the woods had never been so dark. Even the flashlights seemed to falter at the sight.

“So are we going to go in?” Sooyoung turned, her long hair flowing down her shoulders as she looked out at her twelve friends, flashlight sweeping over them, looking all too excited with her grin. Biting your lip, you took another look at the woods. This hadn’t seemed so bad when she’d first suggested it, but now….

“Do we have to?” Jiwoo squeaked, holding her flashlight close and Jungeun’s arm even closer. She looked pale in the moonlight, eyes wide as they darted from the woods to Sooyoung and then back again.

“Don’t chicken out on me now. Come on, we all agreed on this!”

“I agree, I think it’ll be fun to see who runs out first,” Hyejoo said, stepping forward to join Sooyoung at the front of the group. After a moment’s hesitation, Chaewon joined her.

With a sigh, Haseul shoved her hands into her pockets and stepped forward as well. “Why not, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I can think of a few things,” Jinsoul said, but the girls ignored her. Yeojin, sporting a grin, grabbed Vivi’s arm and skipped up to join the other girls.

“Don’t back out just because you’re scared the youngest will out last all of you.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Hyunjin said, crossing her arms despite Heejin’s squeak of protest behind her. “You have the goods, right (Y/N)?” At her question, you nodded and held up the box holding the Ouija board.

“Yeah, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Let’s get a move on, then,” Sooyoung said, ignoring you and clapping her hands. “We don’t want to be out here all night.” With that, she turned and headed into the woods, not an ounce of fear in her. As you followed the group in, you looked up at the full moon one last time. Well, there were thirteen of you there. With that many people, you would all be safe. Right?

The inside of the woods was dense and dark. You’d walked around the woods during the day, and even then, it was spooky. But at night, there was an even heavier vibe. The trees blocked out most of the light coming from the moon, and everyone had to train their flashlights at the path as to not trip over any vines or rocks. Every few steps, something would brush up against your arm, but you tried to ignore it, hoping that it was just branches from trees or bushes. Jiwoo, up ahead of you a few paces, squeaked every few steps, prompting laughter from Yeojin. Somehow, the youngest didn’t seem at all scared. Next to you, Yerim took your arm, clutching at you tightly.

“Where’s the clearing you were talking about? ‘Cause all I see right now is trees,” Jungeun complained, kicking at a rock and sending it skittering into the bushes, much to Jiwoo’s dismay.

“It should be right up ahead,” Sooyoung said, squinting into the dark. “It feels further away since we’re moving so slow.”

“Oh, there!” Yeojin pointed, and everyone turned to look. Through the trees, there was a small sliver of light. An opening.

“Sweet, we’re here!” Picking up her pace, Sooyoung all but ran towards the clearing, pushing a few branches out of the way. Not wanting to be left behind, you followed with the rest of the girls, trying not to get scratches on your arms as you pushed away the branches and followed her through.

Sure enough, there was a clearing. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to fit thirteen people. The ground was slightly overgrown, and stumps of trees could be seen under the tall grass and vines. But for some reason, no trees had grown back, leaving the clearing open to the light of the moon.

“You know, some people say this place was used by cults or witches back in the day,” Hyunjin said, a grin on her face as she sat down on one of the stumps.

Whimpering, Heejin shoved her shoulder. “Shut up! You’re just saying that to scare us!”

“No, I heard the rumors too! Why else would there be a random clearing out here in the middle of the woods?” Sooyoung sat down across from Hyunjin and spread out, much too comfortable in the middle of the woods. “It’s got to be cult stuff.”

“We’re here for the cult stuff!” Yeojin called, loudly enough to make the girls around her jump. Groaning, Yerim slapped her hand over the other girl’s mouth.

“Shut up!”

“Whatever, I don’t believe in that stuff,” Haseul said, shaking her head. “Let’s just get this over with.” She sat down on one of the stumps, wrinkling her nose in disgust, and the rest of the girls followed her lead, sitting on stumps or rocks or whatever else the could find. The moon seemed to be directly overhead now, and you looked up at it for a moment, feeling something sink in your stomach. That was weird….

“(Y/N), pass me the Ouija board.” Yeojin held her hands out, her loud voice shaking you from your thoughts. With a sigh, you handed it over, happy to be rid of it.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this….”

“Not you too, (Y/N)!” Sooyoung pulled her hair back, grinning once again. “It’s Halloween, you have to do stuff like this!”

“But playing with an Ouija board in cult woods?” Jinsoul gulped as she looked around. “Isn’t that a little too much?”

“There’s nothing in these woods,” Jungeun said, exasperated. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m pretty sure I have at least five bugs crawling on me at this very moment and I’m ready to go home.” At her words, Jiwoo whimpered and brushed at her legs frantically, face scrunched up in a way that would be cute if you weren’t too preoccupied thinking about the moon to notice it. Even Hyunjin looked a little squeamish at the mention of bugs, her face turning white as she brushed at her legs.

“You ladies are wimps,” Yeojin declared, slamming her hands down onto the prepared board. “Now are we going to do this or not?”

“There’s no way all of us can do it. The board isn’t big enough,” Vivi pointed out.

“Then half of us will do it. I know I’m going to do it and so will Sooyoung and Hyunjin. Who else?”

After a moment’s hesitation, with everyone looking at each other, Hyejoo stood up and dragged Chaewon along with her. “We’ll do it.”

“Me too,” Jungeun said, making Jiwoo squeak in protest. Still, she managed to wiggle out of the other girl’s grasp to join the girls at the board. Whimpering, Jiwoo grabbed Jinsoul’s arm instead.

“I’ll do it too, I guess,” Vivi said with a sigh, getting up. “That’s enough people, right?”

“(Y/N), are you sure you don’t want to play?”

“I’m good, Yeojin.” You shook your head hard enough to startle Yerim at your side. “Just watching is enough for me.”

“Alright, then let’s get started!”

Chaewon jumped, looking up with wide eyes. “Wait, do you know how to play this?”

“I do,” Sooyoung said, placing her hands on the planchette. “I’ll be the questioner. Come on, gather in close and try to make sure your knees are touching each other in a circle.”

“Okay….”

“Now.” She paused for dramatic effect, making Yeojin groan.

“Hurry up!”

“Okay, okay! Now, let’s move it in a circle to warm it up. Blah blah blah, I’m only allowing good spirits to communicate with us. Hello to whatever is out here in these cult woods. Can you say hello?” Some of the girls hissed in opposition to her choice of words, but she shushed them, making them all be quiet. For a moment, nothing happened. Yeojin opened her mouth, probably about to say something snarky, when the planchette finally moved. She snapped her mouth shut, watching with everyone else as it slowly crept across the board.

Yes.

“Well,” the youngest said slowly. “I guess that’s kind of an answer.”

“It actually moved,” hissed Jinsoul, her eyes wide, making Jiwoo whimper again and bury her head in the other girl’s shoulder.

“I hate this!”

“Who are you?” Sooyoung asked, grinning again. You shivered, leaning into Yerim. For a moment, nothing happened again. But the girls waited patiently, until the planchette began to move.

“Is that an A?”

“Shh, Yeojin, shut up!”

Adam.

“Who the hell is Adam?” Hyunjin asked, glancing around. “That’s such a boring name.”

“Don’t be insulting,” Haseul said, nudging the girl’s back with her foot. Heejin was clutching onto her arm, eyes glued to the board and face white. “I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.”

Shifting, Vivi looked at Sooyoung. “What else should we ask it?”

“Umm. How about this. How long have you been here?”

“Ooh, that’s good and spooky!”

“Yeojin, I swear.”

“Hey, shut up, the thing is moving again!” Hyejoo’s voice made everyone look back at the board. Sure enough, the planchette was moving again, faster this time.

600 years.

“I don’t like that one bit!” Yerim shook her head. “No ghost is that old!”

“You never know,” Sooyoung said, but Haseul shook her head.

“Seriously, I’m not sure we should be-.”

Yeojin interrupted her, not listening. “Ask it another question!”

“Okay. Why are you here?” There was no hesitation this time.

Hungry.

Everyone froze. Slowly, Vivi turned back to look at Haseul. “Uh. That doesn’t seem good.”

“I told you guys this Ouija board wasn’t a good idea!” Jinsoul threw up her free hand in frustration. “We should go, come on!”

Voice tight, Hyejoo called out. “Hey, it’s moving on its own again.”

Devour, devour, devour, 600 years, devour, devoured them, devour you. Hunt.

The moon was directly overhead now, bathing the clearing in pale moonlight as all thirteen of you sat frozen in terror. Everything was silent. Not even wind rustled through the trees. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe, eyes stuck to the board, heart pounding in your chest.

Sooyoung sucked in a deep breath. “I’ve never seen it do that before.”

“Say goodbye!” Jungeun was pale now too, turning to hiss at Sooyoung. You could see her shivering. “Say goodbye now, we need to go!”

“Right!” Sooyoung pulled on the planchette, and then her eyes went wide. “It won’t move.”

“Don’t fuck around,” Hyejoo said, shoving the piece. It moved, finally, flying towards goodbye. As soon as the piece hovered over “goodbye” a gust of wind ripped through the clearing, tearing the board from the hands. Screaming, the girls jumped up, the planchette still clutched in Hyejoo’s hand.

“D-did we close it?” Yeojin asked, looking scared for the first time. As if to answer her, a low, guttural growl echoed through the woods, accompanied by the snapping of branches. You turned to look at Yerim beside you, your mouth dry, body stuck in place.

“Run!” Haseul screamed, just as another growl came from the forest, and finally, your legs moved. You scattered with the other girls, leaving the board there as all thirteen of you tumbled into the woods, moving as fast as your legs could carry you.

-

You weren’t sure when it happened. It was only when you stopped to catch your breath, leaning up against a tree, that you noticed it was only you and Yerim, clutching at your hand. Your eyes widened and you stood up straight, frantically looking around.

“Where did the other girls go?”

“I don’t know.” Yerim was crying, tears screaming down her face as she coughed, gasping through her sobs. “T-they were all right here, and then…. We must have taken a wrong turn or something.”

Terror gripped your chest as you squeezed her hand, shaking from head to toe. The moon was gone and the woods were black, so dark your flashlight didn’t even help. Every tree looked the same, and the two of you weren’t even on a path anymore. For the last few minutes, the two of you had been tripping over bushes and rocks. Your stomach sunk as you had to accept the truth. The two of you were lost in the woods, separated from the rest of the group. You tried to rack your brain for solutions, but you couldn’t think. Your brain felt… fuzzy. Faint.

A growl shook the trees and you heard a shrill scream that sent chills down your back. You didn’t want to think of who that might be, yanking on Yerim’s arm to get her to run again. “Come on, we can’t stay here!” You didn’t know what was out there, in those woods. You only knew one thing: you couldn’t let it catch you.

-

“Vivi!” Haseul stood frozen in place, her flashlight shining up at the trees. She didn’t know when she’d lost the girls, or when she and Vivi had gotten separated from the group. But not even a minute ago, she’d heard a snap and a thump behind her, the light from the other girl’s flashlight going awry. And when she’d turned around…. “Vivi, oh my god!”

The oldest girl’s body hung suspended from the trees, vines wrapped around her neck. Her eyes were wide, body limp, blood dripping down from a mark on her shoulder where something had torn at her clothes. Letting out a scream, Haseul scrambled forward, with every intent to climb the tree and try to get Vivi out, but the crunching of leaves stopped her in her tracks. She wanted to run, wanted to cry, wanted to scream again.

But she couldn’t.

Against her own will, her body turned around. Standing there in the light of her flashlight was a creature she’d never seen. It looked like an animal, horns protruding from its head, but stood on its hind legs, red eyes peering at her. As she stared, unable to move, its red eyes dug into her head and it bared its teeth, slobber dripping from its mouth. It stalked closer, hoofed feet stomping against the ground, and she couldn’t pull herself from its gaze, even as its human-like hand reached up and wrapped around her neck.

Her breath cut off as it lifted her off the ground, long nails digging into the back of her neck. As spots of black clouded her vision, she saw it open its mouth. Then her world went black.

-

“That scream! That was Haseul!” Hyunjin stopped running, despite Heejin and Yeojin pulling at her from either side. Up ahead, Hyejoo and Chaewon stopped as well, gasping for breath. “Was she calling for Vivi?”

“Do you think…?” Yeojin couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence, her eyes wide and her hand gripping Hyunjin’s tight enough to make it go numb.

“Should we go after her?” Hyejoo asked, shining her flashlight in the direction of the scream. Chaewon, beside her, let out another sob and crouched down onto the ground.

“We should have never done this! We’re so lost, we’re never going to get out of here!”

“Don’t say that!” Heejin was clearly panicked as she stomped her feet. “There’s no way we can go help her, we’re no match for whatever thing is out there, we’re just people, we can’t-.”

“We have to at least try! We can’t just let our friends die,” Hyunjin snapped, yanking at Heejin’s hand. “What if-.” A growl cut her off, followed by a howl. Wind rushed through the narrow space and she felt goosebumps well up on the back of her neck. All thoughts of saving her friends left her mind. Somehow, she knew she couldn’t do it. “Run,” she said instead, rushing forward, but Yeojin went limp in her hand, and Hyejoo screamed.

Slowly, Hyunjin turned her head. A figure loomed in the dark, holding Yeojin up by the back of her jacket. Her eyes were wide and glazed over, her body limp, and blood was spilling over from her shoulder, seeping through her coat and running down her fingertips. She wanted to run, wanted to rip her fingers away from Yeojin’s limp hand, wanted to scream, but the figure had red eyes that dug into the back of her skull and nailed her to the ground.

Heejin dropped her hand, screaming, and ran into the woods. Well, Hyunjin thought, at least she might escape. Struggling to move, she watched as the figure emerged from the shadows and into the light of Hyejoo’s flashlight. It towered over her, some sort of half-animal and half-human creature, slobber dripping from its face as it’s growl shook the ground she stood on. As the creature dumped Yeojin to the ground, Hyunjin summoned all of her willpower to scoop the girl up into her arms, breaking free from the creatures spell.

Her feet felt sluggish and she felt as if she might faint as the creature roared, shaking her to her bones, but she still turned and ran, carrying Yeojin in her arms. Hyejoo and Chaewon had disappeared, leaving her running in the dark, alone, but she didn’t care. She ran and ran, the creature thundering behind her, until her legs wouldn’t carry her anymore and she collapsed, covering Yeojin’s body with her own in a small clearing where the moon peeked through the trees.

There was still some sort of recognition in Yeojin’s eyes as Hyunjin held her, unable to fight the creature as it dug its teeth into her neck. But it faded with the pale moonlight as Hyunjin’s body slumped into the dirt.

-

“Where are we, Sooyoung?” Jungeun’s voice was strangled as she held a sobbing Jiwoo in her arms, looking over at Sooyoung and Jinsoul, who was grasping the other girl’s arm as she swung her flashlight around.

“I-I don’t know. I thought we were headed for the entrance, but we must have taken a turn somewhere. I don’t recognize any of this.”

Jinsoul had been crying silently while they ran, but now she let out a sob and let her head fall against Sooyoung’s shoulder. “I keep hearing screams….”

“This is all because you insisted on coming out here,” Jungeun said, gritting her teeth, and Sooyoung glared back at her.

“You say like you didn’t totally agree with me! Don’t blame this on me!”

“Take a look at our situation right now, Sooyoung! We’ve been hearing screams for a while now, how many of our friends do you think are dead right now?”

“Don’t!” Jiwoo sobbed louder. “Don’t say that!”

“Let’s just keep walking,” Sooyoung said, clenching her jaw and focusing her flashlight on the trail ahead. “At least we’re on a trail.” She stepped forward and, reluctantly, Jungeun followed behind with Jinsoul, a still-crying Jiwoo in her arms.

They had only taken a few steps when Sooyoung stopped, letting out a strange gurgle. The three other girls ran into her from behind, and Jungeun opened her mouth to snap at her, asking why she stopped, but the words caught in her throat.

There, in the light of Sooyoung’s flashlight, lay three bodies.

Heejin’s eyes were still wide open, her arms and legs sprawled out on the ground. A foot away from her were Chaewon and Hyejoo. Chaewon was also staring up at the sky, tear tracks still running down her face, but her arms were still wrapped around Hyejoo, who lay on top of her, only recognizable by her black hair and jacket. Blood puddled on the ground underneath them, and hoof prints littered the mud on the path.

Jinsoul screamed, then slumped to the ground, fainting at the sight. Quickly, Jungeun hid Jiwoo’s face in her shoulder, not letting her see the scene as she tried to process it, stomach turning at the sight. Sooyoung stood frozen, staring at the bodies with her mouth open, struggling to breathe.

“They’re….”

“Sooyoung! Sooyoung, we have to run, grab Jinsoul and-.”

A roar shook the ground just as something slammed into Sooyoung, sending her flying with a crack. Jungeun watched in horror as Sooyoung fell to the ground with a choked groan, a boulder landing on top of her slender body. And then a creature was standing in front of her and Jungeun shrieked, tumbling backwards at the sight.

“What-.” Jiwoo look up, then froze, unable to even cry as the creature stepped over Jinsoul and snarled, red eyes digging into her own. Jungeun grabbed Jiwoo with every intent to run, but something sharp stabbed into her shoulder and she fell to the ground, paralyzed. She watched as the creature picked Jiwoo up, watched as Jiwoo screamed and kicked her legs, grabbing at its hand on her neck, watched as she struggled. She wanted to get up, wanted to run, wanted to try and fight the beast to help Jiwoo, but she couldn’t do anything but watch, waiting for her own turn as her vision fogged over.

-

Your legs could barely carry you anymore as you ran, lungs burning and heart pounding. You had no idea how long you’d been running, only that you couldn’t stop, no matter how many screams you heard. Your face and throat burned from the tears and your hand was numb from how hard Yerim was gripping it, but you kept running with her beside you, pushing your way through trees and overgrown bushes. The woods only seemed to be getting thicker, harder to walk through, when it happened.

Yerim’s gasped as her foot hit a branch, sending both of you tumbling forward through a cluster of branches and onto… a green field? You blinked up at the moon, gasping for air as you tried to process what was going on. The two of you were sat on a field a few feet away from the entry trail to the woods, overlooking the the city.

“We’re out,” Yerim gasped, “we’re finally out, we got out. Now we have to get help.” She jumped to her feet, pulling you up with her, and you stumbled, trying to catch up as she ran down the hill.

At the bottom of the hill, on the trail back towards the parking lot and the city, there was a figure, and you let out a sigh of relief. “Good, someone is there, we can tell them and then-.” The figure moved so fast, you barely caught it. You stopped in your tracks as Yerim let out a gurgle behind you, your heart stopping. No, it couldn’t be, the two of you had gotten out of the woods, this wasn’t-.

A creature with red eyes loomed in front of you, horns blocking out the moon as it boor its sharp teeth and growled. Then, somehow, it spoke, saying something you couldn’t understand, leaning in close with a deep, gravelly voice as if two rocks were rubbing together in its throat, sending a shiver down your spine. You stepped back only to trip over a limp Yerim, sending you sprawling onto the ground. It loomed over you, drool splattering onto your face as it opened its mouth and spoke again, its red eyes leaving you helpless to escape your fate as it chanted, getting close and closer with every word.

“Devour, devour, devour, devour….”

[fyeahbecachloe]

the one where beca doesn’t like dogs (3/?)

Beca/Chloe Rating: T Word Count: 1967 Summary:What looked like an emaciated wolf was currently lying on her floor glaring at her. Eyes wide, Beca stood there frozen afraid it would attack her.

OR

Beca doesn’t like dogs but she’s dating a veterinarian so she’s pretty much screwed.

READ ON AO3

True to her word, Chloe did take full responsibility of MJ over the next few weeks. She took him to work every day and brought him back when she was finished. Depending on their schedules, sometimes Beca was home before them and sometimes she came home late to the two of them cuddling on the couch. On the weekends, Chloe would take him to the park or play with him outside. Beca barely had to worry about him.

Except for his fur. Huskies, Beca found out, shed. A lot. Now that MJ’s fur has almost fully grown back and he gained back his weight, he was shedding like crazy. Beca would find tufts of fur EVERYWHERE. She had taken to lint rolling herself every day before leaving work. Chloe, of course, promised she’d sweep and vacuum the house on a daily basis which Beca protested to right away

“You’re my girlfriend, not my maid I can clean up after the giant fur ball. That’s why god invented swiffers.”

It amazed Beca how much fur can accumulate in just one day. MJ looked at her curiously every time she brought out the vacuum. She had thought, like most dogs, he would be scared of it but he just followed her around while she ran it over the few carpeted areas they had in the house. MJ was very curious about the detachable hose.

“Yes, dude, I’m getting rid of all of your fur,” Beca told him as she used the hose extension to vacuum the couch. She playfully aimed it at him and to her surprise; he rolled onto his back presenting his belly. Beca looked around to see if she could get Chloe’s attention from the other room but she was nowhere to be found. “What?” she asked the dog but he just stared at her, upside down, with his tongue sticking out. Beca looked down at the vacuum extension and then started going over his belly with it and pretty much vacuuming him. MJ’s tail started wagging like crazy.

“You’re such a fucking weirdo.” Beca was laughing as she continued to vacuum his belly.

“Are you vacuuming the dog?” Chloe’s amused voice came from the other side of the room.

Beca smiled. “Yeah, sometimes you just gotta go to the source.”

--

“I’m taking tomorrow off. I’m exhausted,” Chloe announced after she finished getting ready for bed. She climbed in next to Beca who had her laptop with her working on some last minute things. MJ was already in his own bed on the floor next to theirs. Beca had given up on the whole “no dogs in the bedroom” rule because it seemed like it was the only thing Chloe said that he refused to follow. It was fighting a losing battle. The only real time they kicked him out was during sex because having a dog in the same room you were having sex in was very very weird.

Beca looked up from work as Chloe cuddled up next to her rubbing their bare legs together. “Perfect timing since I will be working from home tomorrow.” She saved the file she working on and then shut the laptop close. She set it aside on her table and moved closer to Chloe, very aware of the leg that was now moving between hers.

“Yay, I get to spend the whole day bugging you while you work,” Chloe said as she lazily traced her fingers against Beca’s back, lifting her shirt to feel skin. Beca shivered.

“Babe, you’re about to start something you can’t finish.”

Chloe gasped in faux offense. “Who says I won’t finish? Or you won’t?” She grinned and moved her thigh up, pressing against Beca’s center.

Beca sucked in a breath and grabbed a hold of Chloe’s hips to stop the beginnings of a grind. “Chloe, you’re two seconds from falling asleep. Don’t pretend you haven’t fallen asleep in the middle of sex.”

Chloe laughed and removed her leg but pulled Beca closer. “For your information, Beca Mitchell, I fell asleep shortly after sex. Not during. Stop ruining my reputation and spreading false rumors.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to Beca’s lips and reached over to turn off the lamp. “But yes, I am sleepy, so stop talking, you’re keeping me up.”

“You’re so annoying.” Beca turned around and let Chloe spoon her from behind.  She took Chloe’s hand and put it under shirt and over her stomach.

“Do you need a belly rub, too, Bec?”

“Shut up, oh my god. Go to sleep, you’re keeping the dog up.” And on cue, MJ made an annoyed grunt. “See? Go to sleep, dog!”

Chloe started drawing circles around Beca’s belly button and smiled against her shoulder when she felt the muscles twitch under her finger. “He has a name, you know? How would you feel if I called you ‘woman’ all the time?”

Beca snorted. “You call me that every time I do something you find annoying.” Of course it was always in jest.

“How hard is it to refill the Brita pitcher?”

“Go to sleep, Chloe.”

“You forgot to refill the pitcher again, didn’t you?”

“I’m leaving you.”

Chloe kissed her shoulder. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

--

Beca started her days a lot later when she was working from home. She was awoken up in the most wonderful of ways with Chloe’s head between her legs and bringing her to an orgasm in her waking moments. She was just catching her breath when Chloe replaced her mouth with two fingers and made her come again while smirking at her.

“That’s for being so goddamn annoying last night,” Chloe winked before going to the bathroom.

Beca laughed and looked down to find where Chloe put her shorts and underwear. “Babe, where are my clothes?” The shower turned on.

“You don’t need clothes when you’re about to shower with me!” Beca quickly ran to the bathroom while discarding her last item of clothing. Chloe was already in the spacious shower and she stepped in and was immediately pulled into a kiss under the hot spray.

“Wait,” Beca said pulling back. “Where’s the dog?”

Chloe’s eyes grew comically wide. “Are you seriously thinking about MJ when I’m about to give you your third orgasm before 9 o’clock?” Beca opened her mouth to retort but realized she got nothing. “He’s in the yard, Bec.” Her eyes were twinkling with amusement.

“Oh, right, duh.” She nodded and gestured for Chloe to continue.

Chloe grinned and backed Beca into the shower wall and then sank to her knees. “Hmm,” she mused and lifted Beca’s leg so it was over her shoulder. Beca gripped onto the railing that she may or may not had installed customized for situations like these. She wasn’t keen on finding “sustained fall in shower while having sex” on any hospital discharge papers. Chloe made sure Beca had a proper grip. “I’m trying to figure out when I turned you into a pillow princess. I mean, 3 to 0 really isn’t fair.”

Beca’s snarky retort died on her tongue because Chloe’s was on her clit. God, her girlfriend was annoying.

--

After her very blissful morning, (which she did reciprocate, she was not a pillow princess, thank you very much) Beca was in her in home studio working on one of her many ongoing projects. She preferred working from home because it was more relaxing and her creative juices flowed more. And working in her pajamas was a bonus. Double bonus when Chloe was home with her and her distractions were a welcome.

Beca was approaching 3 hours of nonstop working while Chloe caught up on all her TV shows she didn’t have the time to watch. She didn’t even realize it was nearly lunch time until she saw Chloe in her peripheral leaning against the door of her studio. Beca pulled the headphones down from her ears.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

“Well, I was going to make us lunch and  then opened our fridge and pantry and realized we haven’t gone grocery shopping in forever.” Chloe walked into the studio and stood behind Beca’s chair and was already massaging the knots in her neck. Beca let out an appreciative moan. “I’m going to make a grocery store run to pick up essentials for lunch and dinner tonight. Will you be okay with MJ for a couple of hours?” Hearing his name, Beca heard the pitter patter sounds of MJ’s paws against the hardwood floor as he trotted into her studio. A space he knows he’s not allowed in but he sat down next to her chair anyways.

Beca narrowed her eyes at him but he just gave her the same look back. “Yeah, I’m sure I can handle Cujo for a couple of hours. Go get us some sustenance, please.”  She leaned her head against the back of her chair and gave Chloe a goofy upside smile.

Chloe leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Okay, be good.” She leaned down and kissed MJ’s head too before leaving the studio.

Beca frowned as she watched Chloe walk down the hall. “Are you talking to me or the dog?”

“Both!”

MJ barked the same time Beca yelled “Rude!” He followed her to the back door before looking out the front window as Chloe’s car pulled out of the driveway. MJ let out a little whine as the car disappeared down the street. “Dude, she’ll be back. I think you’re becoming a little codependent.” He grunted at her before returning to his tennis ball.

Beca got back into a stride for a good 30 minutes when she felt a weight in her lap. She looked down and saw MJ had placed his head on her lap and looked up at her with what could only be described as puppy eyes.

“What’s up, dude?” She unconsciously scratched the back of his ears the way she’s seen Chloe done a hundred times before. His tail gave a half hearted wag. Beca resumed work and she continued to pet his head but MJ let out a high pitched whine and was still giving her the same look.

“What?” Beca furrowed her eyebrows, not quite sure what to do. “Chloe will be back in a little bit, I promise.” But MJ just made a grumbling noise, sat down, and stared at her. He whined again and then barked. “Dude, what? I don’t speak dog.” MJ almost looked annoyed before he got up again and this time tugged on the bottom of Beca’s pajama pants with his teeth.  He looked at her again and then headed for the door and sat down.

“Do you want me to follow you?” MJ’s tail started to wag when Beca finally got up and he turned around to walk towards the living room with Beca following him.  He led them to the couch and then laid down by it.

“Okay now what?” Beca asked him and then he began to paw under the couch. “Is there something under there?”  Beca knelt down and looked under the couch and laughed. MJ had pushed his tennis ball under the couch and couldn’t reach it. She had to lay completely on her stomach to retrieve it and MJ copied her actions. When she got back up, Beca handed the rescued tennis ball for him to take.

“You must be the dumbest smart dog ever.” MJ barked appreciatively and took the ball from her. “You want to play fetch with that outside?”  But MJ was already waiting by the French doors that led to the backyard.  “I’ll take that as yes.” Beca took the ball from him before opening the door and he ran outside.

“Okay, MJ, go fetch!” And Beca threw the ball across the yard, smiling.

[imaginepirates]

Mini Series

A Gentleman?

The second chapter in my series, for @chiminie-pabo, and everyone else who read the first one. Love you guys!

  Other Chapters: 1  

He picked up the wood that barred the door and set it back in place before you could even move to. You went around the back of the bar and poured him a drink, which he gladly accepted when you handed it to him. You noticed that he was paler than most people around, and vaguely wondered how he kept from getting tan. 

“You seem new around here,” you commented, watching him sip the drink. He certainly was, for he wasn’t guzzling the alcohol like every other man in town. 

“What makes you think that?” He asked. 

“You’ve had a shave, and you’re not covered in shit. Besides, everybody knows I don’t lease out rooms.”

His eyebrows drew together for a moment, and he frowned. “I’m hoping you might make an exception.”

“That quite depends on how well you can pay.”

“Ah,” he sighed. “I thought you might say as much. What do you say to four pounds?” He fixed you with a stare you couldn’t quite place. 

“I’d say that four pounds is the weekly pay of a rich man.”

He smiled. “Not quite.”

“Where are you from?” You asked. The man was strange. He was different from the other men you knew, and stood a respectful distance away when speaking with you. 

“Not here.”

“Could you be more vague?”

“I doubt it. But I’d rather keep the matter to myself, if you don’t mind.”

You understood. You didn’t like personal questions either. “Alright. Would you like to see your room?” His glass, now finished, sat on the bar counter. 

He nodded, and you led him upstairs to a room a few doors down from your own. The tavern had many upstairs rooms, and there had been a time when they had been kept full. Those days were long over, so you tried to put him in a room far from your own. It would give you extra time to hear the creaking of wood if he decided to sneak around. 

You hadn’t been expecting visitors. The room hadn’t been used in a long time, and dust sat over much of it. 

“You’ll have to excuse the state of the room. It’s not often put to use.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I’m just glad I have somewhere to stay.”

You were half turned to make your way back to your room when you paused to ask, “What are you doing here in Tortuga? You don’t seem like the type to hang about this sort of place. Or is it a personal matter? I don’t mean to ask too much and intrude, you understand.”

“It’s quite alright. It is indeed a personal matter, and it will be quickly dealt with. I don’t plan to stay here long, but I would appreciate it if you’d be kind enough to house me while I do.”

“My pleasure,” you said. Then, you returned to your room. 

Opening a drawer, you pulled out a pair of wooden wedges and shoved them under the door to your room. The door swung inwards, and the wedges would keep it from opening if someone decided to try opening it. Just in case James got the wrong idea. 

You were up early. Careful not to wake James, you slipped out of your room and into the hallway, soundlessly treading down the squeaky stairs. You had long since memorized the quiet spots of each step. You’d changed into your clothes for the day, wearing a plain dress of light material and a brown apron tied to your waist with a belt. The sleeves of the dress hung about your elbows, keeping them out of the way of water used for washing glasses. 

You were surprised to find James already sitting at the bar, sipping a glass of water. He didn’t seem particularly impatient for your arrival, instead reading a thin book. He glanced up when he noticed you on the stairs. You were mortified that your guest was up earlier than you, but tried your best to hide it. 

Clearly, your best hadn’t worked, as he said, “You look surprised.”

“Only a little. I didn’t expect you up this early.”

“I’m an early riser.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry, I enjoy my time reading.”

“As do I. What book is it, if I may ask?” You walked a little closer to him, trying to peek at the cover over his shoulder. 

“The Iliad.” He flushed a bit. “I regret to say that I haven’t read it yet.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” you assured him. 

“Where I come from…” he trailed off. “I apologize. That was rude.”

You laughed. “Hardly. People around here aren’t the well-educated type. I’d be surprised if half the city was literate!”

This earned you a small smile from the man at the bar.

“I thought it would be bigger,” you commented. 

“Small print,” he replied. 

It came to you that James must have been waiting for breakfast. You regretted not getting up earlier. “You must be hungry.”

“A little. Do you have anything?”

“Some,” you said. In truth, you had precious little in the way of breakfast foods. There were a few papayas and at least one mango, and hopefully some guavas not crawling with tiny, translucent worms. There were biscuits in a lower cabinet which men liked served with a thick gravy during later mealtimes, but you figured you could turn them into something serviceable for breakfast. 

You grabbed the biscuits and cracked open a bottle of jam, spreading it across the day old pastries. You didn’t mind stale food, but you couldn’t speak for James. 

“I should’ve thought about making a fresh batch this morning,” you said. “Sorry.” You gave him an apologetic look that he quickly dismissed. 

“It’ll have been the freshest thing I’ve eaten in weeks.”

You appreciated his kindness, but it was a foreign expression that made you a tad uncomfortable. Your customers were never kind. 

You turned back to the cupboards to grab the fruit. They were in the highest cabinet and were hard to reach. Normally, you would’ve hopped up on the counter and grabbed them from there, but you didn’t dare do such a thing in good company. Your fingertips barely made it past the lip of the shelf, even from the tips of your toes. 

There was the scraping of a stool against the floor, and a body was pressed lightly against yours. James reached over the top of you and grabbed fruits from the shelf, setting them down on the counter next to you. You were utterly red in the face, and you couldn’t have met his eyes if you’d tried.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. 

“Don’t bother. I assume you typically reach them in a much less ladylike manner. I’d venture that the other shelves are stocked with things that need to be more immediately accessible, like alcohol.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head, sir.”

You passed him a bowl of cut up fruit. The two of you ate from opposite sides of the bar. There was a stool on your side that you used during the day when your feet started to hurt. You spoke little, but you noticed when he absentmindedly tapped his biscuit against the table. Crumbs fell to the floor, and upon realizing it, he muttered an apology. 

“I expect that it’s habit,” you said, trying to make some sort of conversation. You knew sailors tapped their bread against tables to get rid of weevils at sea. The little bugs often made their way into stored foodstuffs. Neither did it escape you that he savored the fruit longer than another man might. 

He dipped his head, a slight grin crossing his face. “I see you know your sailors. Many must pass through here.” 

“They do, and I have the pleasure of seeing them eat.”

“Truly, a privilege. It must be wonderful to watch how we shove whatever food we can get down our throats.”

You released an airy laugh. “But they never complain about my cooking.”

“I expect they don’t,” he chuckled. 

Breakfast finished, you cleaned the dishes. Setting them out to dry on a cloth, you took up the broom to sweep around a little. James insisted on helping, so you handed him a wet rag with which to wipe down the tables. You’d done the same thing the night before, but you liked to do it in the mornings, too, just to make sure. 

You opened the doors to men already stumbling towards the establishment. They filed in in swaying lines, what little money they had ready to be wasted. Faces both familiar and new took their places at the round tables. James watched the people wander in from off the street with a curious gaze, like he hadn’t ever seen such people in his life. It dawned on you that he hadn’t. 

The man from the previous day stood in the doorway, an already empty bottle in one hand. No doubt he visited pubs that opened earlier. He looked at you, and the hair on the back of your neck raised until you realized he was looking behind you. Quickly, he stepped out the door and around the corner, pulling a pudgy companion with him. 

You looked over your shoulder to find James, who’s eyes wandered over the customers. Just who was he?

*If anyone wondered about the weevils thing, it’s true. And if anyone wondered about the worms in guavas, let’s just say I found one while eating as a child. It made for an unhappy eight-year-old.*

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Out of Time (1/?)

It’s here at last! @ripperblackstaff, @woodelf68, @everyone else who wanted to see it. Thanks for your voracious support, guys, and I hope you enjoy!

Summary:  Belle is the one to be sucked into Zelena’s time portal with Emma, and they find themselves in a very different time to the one they had anticipated, arriving to see the confrontation between Hook and a pre-Dark One Rumpelstiltskin. They manage to return to the future, but with some unintentional stowaways. With Rumpelstiltskin removed from his own timeline, the universe throws a fit, and it’s a race against time to set things straight.

Rated: T for now, but it will go up in later chapters.

====

Out of Time

One

Belle took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the sheriff’s station. She didn’t want to be the harbinger of bad tidings, especially when everyone was getting ready to celebrate new life and new hope.

All the same, something about Zelena’s disappearance just didn’t sit right with her, and far be it from her to sweep something under the carpet and pretend that everything was ok when potentially the entire town was at risk. If Zelena was going to come back at the eleventh hour and cause havoc, then she wanted to be prepared.

As she entered, Belle found that Emma was looking just as despondent as she felt herself.

“Not in the party spirit either, huh?”

Emma looked up guiltily. “Oh. Erm. Hi, Belle.”

“It’s ok, you don’t need to pretend to be happy on my account.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who can’t seem to muster up any enthusiasm about the whole thing.” Emma let out a long sigh and waved Belle over to the desk. “So, what’s eating you? I doubt it’s the same thing that’s eating me.”

“It’s Zelena.” Belle leaned against the desk, grimacing as Emma groaned at the mention of the witch. “I know, I know, I want to forget all about her too, but I just can’t. There’s something about her demise that seems too convenient, you know? Even if she did self-destruct like on the video, what happened to her… remains? She must have left some trace behind, but there’s nothing. What if this is just another way for her to cause trouble? Make us think she’s gone for good and then pop up just when we thought we were finally rid of her.”

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it myself.” Emma gave a huff of dry laughter. “Your worries are way more valid than mine at the moment; I feel stupid in comparison.”

“I don’t know, everyone has different priorities. What have you been thinking about?”

“It’s this baby. I know that the circumstances can’t be helped, and I know that Mom and Dad went through just as much trauma with this one as they did with me, but that doesn’t stop me being jealous that my brother gets to grow up with both his loving parents and I didn’t. I don’t think it’s even jealousy, really. Now that he’s here I just don’t understand my place in this world anymore. I had a life in New York, and it was really good, even if it wasn’t real. And now Neal’s gone, and I just think that maybe it would be better if I went back and bowed out.” She sighed. “Like I said, compared to fears of wicked witches rising from the grave, it’s fairly petty, but I can’t help it.”

“I think it’s perfectly valid for you to have mixed feelings about the whole thing. These are very strange times that we’ve found ourselves in, and we have to make the best of it. All the same, I think that your parents would be devastated if you were to leave Storybrooke. They still love you and care for you, but naturally they’re going to show it in a different way to you than they show it to the baby.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I can feed and dress myself and articulate my feelings, for one. I guess that we’ve been separated so many times that it feels normal to anticipate another separation. I don’t want it, and I know that they don’t want it either, but sometimes we don’t get what we want.”

“Maybe you need to think about it in a different way. If we hadn’t all had to go back to the Enchanted Forest and you hadn’t had to go to New York, you would have stayed in Storybrooke, and put roots down here, and this second pregnancy would probably have happened anyway. You wouldn’t have left then, because you would have had the time to get used to it.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, even back in Neverland, Mom was saying that she wanted to have another baby. I guess it was kind of inevitable. It’s just going to take time to get to grips with the idea of having a sibling thirty years my junior. We have a weird family tree.”

“I can’t argue with you there, but then my fiancé’s over three hundred years old so I don’t think I have a leg to stand on.”

“Fiancé, huh?” Emma grinned. “When did that happen?”

“Last night. I guess that’s why I’m so worried about Zelena.”

“Yes, right, we were talking about the possibility of more calamitous happenings, not bemoaning my state of adult childhood.”

“It’s ok, I can tell that you really needed to get it off your chest. I don’t know if I’m qualified to give advice, but I hope I’ve helped in some way.”

“Yes, I think you have. It’s good to talk to someone about it. I didn’t really feel like I could go to anyone else about it because it just felt mean when everyone’s so relieved that the little one’s ok. I hope they name him soon; I can’t keep calling him Little Brother.”

Belle failed to hold back a laugh, and Emma joined her in giggles.

“Anyway, how’s Gold holding up?” she asked once composure had returned.

“All right, I think. I don’t know. He doesn’t want to talk about it, which makes me think that he probably should talk about it, but it’s not my place to force him to confront these things if he doesn’t feel up to it yet. I just want to make sure that he’s safe.”

“I know that feeling. I’m just not sure what we can do about it. Coming to think of it, it would probably be a good idea to grab Zelena’s pendant from the barn. I can’t believe that I forgot to pick it up. Of all the things that might prove useful if she was trying to return, the source of all her power is probably up there on the list.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

Belle followed Emma out of the station towards the yellow bug, and Emma paused before unlocking it.

“Are you sure that you want to come along?” she said. “If Zelena is up to her tricks again, then…”

“Then I would very much like to be there to smack her round the face,” Belle said. Emma’s eyes widened at her words and she opened the passenger door, gesturing for Belle to get in.

“You know, over the last few days I’ve really learned to appreciate your gumption,” she said. “I guess because you weren’t around during the curse and I never really got the chance to get to know you afterwards, I tend to think of you and Rumpel as a pair.”

“A lot of people make that mistake.” Belle sighed. “I am my own person, I always have been, and I’m so sick of everyone measuring my worth in relation to me being with Rumpel. I’m not a person to them, I’m just a pawn that they can use to get back at him. Why do you think I was locked up under the hospital throughout the first curse? It wasn’t anything I’d done to warrant that, oh no. Regina just wanted to make sure she had a bargaining chip in case she ever needed to get one over on Rumpel.”

“I’m sorry, Belle. I really am.”

“It’s all right. It’s not as if you knew I was down there.”

“Yeah, but if I had then I would have tried to get you out.”

Belle smiled. “I know you would. That’s why you’re the saviour.”

“Please don’t call me that. I don’t feel particularly saviour-like at the moment. Not even my normal superpowers are working at the moment. I can’t help feeling like all this can be traced back to Greg. If I’d known straight away that he was lying and here for nefarious purposes, then we never would have gone to Neverland, never would have accidentally unleashed Pan on the town; you guys would never have gone back to the Enchanted Forest, and we could have avoided all this pain and heartbreak.”

“It’s not your fault, Emma. Things are just miserable sometimes. Even now, when we ought to be happy that everything’s over, neither of us really are.”

It was strange to be having this conversation with Emma. They had never really interacted before outside of Emma needing Belle’s expertise for something, and it was nice to get to know each other as people, with no hidden agenda in the background waiting to strike. Belle was about to make some comment to keep the chatter flowing, but before she could do so, they had rounded the corner that brought them onto the barn road, and the words died in her throat.

“Well, that certainly does not look good.” Emma glanced over at Belle and then looked back through the windscreen at the pillar of raw magic that was shooting out of the top of the barn. It was the colour of flame, swirling like molten lava, and Belle knew that whatever type of spell it was, it was something incredibly powerful. She had never paid all that much attention when Rumpel had been brewing potions and inventing spells up in his laboratory; she was interested in the magic that he allowed her to see but had learned not to question the secretive things.

If this was related to Zelena’s attempt to break the laws of magic and turn back time, then it was something that no magician had ever attempted to control before.

Emma continued up the lane towards the barn a little way until the bug’s engine gave out with a splutter.

“Magic and technology don’t mix,” Belle said. “Rumpel’s warned me about it before. The stronger the spell, the more widespread and potent its affects.”

They got out of the car and made their way towards the barn on foot. As they got closer, the roar of the magic grew louder and louder until they had to shout to make themselves heard over the din.

“Ok, whatever this is, I really think that we’re going to need back-up!” Emma yelled. “How are you supposed to switch this thing off? Belle, I really think that you ought to wait in the car.”

“And let you be blown to smithereens by whatever this is? Not likely!”

Emma wrenched the barn door open and was almost blown away by the force of the magic that was spiralling inside. Holding on tight to the frame, she peered inside. Belle followed her lead.

The spell was coming from a circle marked out in the dirt floor, with four points facing along compass lines. There in the centre, fuelling the magic, was Zelena’s pendant.

“I knew it was too good to be true!” Emma groaned. “Why does this always happen just when we think that everything’s solved?”

“Magic’s a law unto itself. If that’s what I think it is, then we want to get as far away from it as possible.”

“Yeah, I don’t exactly feel very safe here,” Emma agreed. “It looks like a bean portal but going up instead of down.”

“It’s a portal through time and space, rather than just space,” Belle explained. “Come on, let’s get out of here before something happens. It looks really unstable. Maybe if we leave it alone it might burn itself out.”

“Yeah, I have a whole new appreciation of your proxy knowledge of magic now.”

Emma let go of the doorframe and took a step away, back towards the car, and in that moment, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Emma was moving away, and a tendril of lava-like magic pulsed out from the portal, snaking itself around her ankle. The portal was not going to stop until someone had gone through it.

“Belle!”

Belle grabbed Emma’s hand, but the force of the portal was too much for the both of them, and she felt herself being ripped away from the door where she was holding on for dear life. Her fingers could take no more, and she let go.

But she did not let go of Emma. Whatever might befall them at the other end of this journey, she wasn’t going to leave Emma to go through it alone, and Belle clung to her hand as they were both pulled into the swirling golden vortex and shot into the past.

[junhaoclub]

and they were roommates!

pairing: seoksol  genre: fluff + mild smut, roommates au + friends to lovers au   a/n: happy birthday to seokmin and hansol!! you make such a beautiful pairing and i hope you get all the birthday smooches in the world (’:  words: 1795 summary: oh my god, they were roommates. 

It is a normal day for Seokmin up until Hansol throws his backpack into the wall.

He had a pretty filling breakfast that morning and just as he was heading out for his only class of the day, his professor emailed him to say it had been canceled. Seokmin worked on homework for another class with his free time, made breakfast for Hansol who was rushing to class and then took a nap on the couch afterward. He woke up to the dazzling sunlight slanting across his cheekbones and took a shower where he did his best not to think about Hansol and his hands before he ultimately failed and gave in to the urge.

Thirty-seven minutes later and Seokmin was fresh from the shower, making lunch for himself and checking his phone for text messages from his friends. Seungkwan had sent him a link to a panda video sometime around three in the afternoon and Seokmin immediately forwarded it to Hansol without thinking. He had not received any texts from Hansol by then, but that was normal considering how many classes his roommate was taking this semester. Seokmin is amazed at how Hansol can balance all of his time enough to fit in six classes, his job, and outings with their large group of friends.

He is currently free though with no homework or assignments to get to, so he lies down on the couch and turns Netflix on. Black Panther is now on there and Jihoon has been bugging everyone to watch it. So with his decision made, Seokmin settles into the couch's comfy cushions as the opening Marvel Studios intro begins to play on the TV screen and takes a photo of it on Snapchat to send to Jihoon. Jihoon immediately messages him right back, but Seokmin only puts his phone on silent and keeps his eyes locked on the screen instead.

He has just gotten to the part where Erik orders everyone to burn the heart-shaped herb after becoming the new Black Panther when Hansol returns. Seokmin only raises a hand to wave at him, not bothering to do much else until he hears the impact of Hansol's backpack against the wall.

Seokmin does not say a word. He simply turns to lie on his back, scoots over until his side is pressed against the back of the couch, and offers Hansol a grin when the younger marches over to him. Hansol wastes no time in crawling on top of him and huffs into his throat, his nose tickling Seokmin's sensitive skin.

With the movie continuing to play, Seokmin wraps an arm around Hansol's waist and uses his free hand to run his fingers through his roommate's hair. The line of his shoulders are tense and his body is rigid against Seokmin's, but, gradually, Hansol begins to relax in his arms. Seokmin rubs circles into his back once he has loosened up and breathes in the scent of Hansol's shampoo and slightly sweaty hair.

Hansol waits until the movie is done (end credits and end credit scenes!) before he makes his move and Seokmin finds his heartbeat quickening with the thoughtfulness of the act. Nevertheless, he tilts his face down towards the man lying on top of him so that their mouths can meet at an easier angle.

Seokmin lets Hansol lead, only parting his lips when Hansol grips onto his shirt and bunches the material in his fist as he pulls it up. The cold air of their living room curls against his skin and Seokmin can't help but shiver when Hansol's tongue sweeps into his mouth. Hansol presses his palm flat to Seokmin's stomach and raises his hips, moving until he is able to bracket Seokmin's own underneath. Seokmin sits up and moves with him to keep the kiss going, shivering again as Hansol's fingers slide into the waistband of his jeans. He moans when Hansol toys with the dark curls that litter his pelvis, feeling himself harden just underneath Hansol's hand.

Hansol then removes his hand from Seokmin's pants and undoes his own jeans, shoving them down his thighs and almost falling right off the couch in doing so. Seokmin laughs at him as he steadies him, feeling something inside himself settle when Hansol smiles back at him.

"Bad day?" Seokmin asks, not hiding the fact that he is watching Hansol struggle to get his pants off now that Seokmin has him in his hold once more.

"Yeah," Hansol murmurs, leaning down to give Seokmin a peck on the lips once he has rid himself of his jeans. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

It is what Hansol says each and every time they find themselves doing this, his careful tone of voice all Seokmin needs to throw his inhibitions away and give into this desire he has for Hansol's touch. It makes his blood race and his heartbeat rushing to match it, but Seokmin wouldn't turn this away. Not ever. Not from Hansol anyway.

"I want to," is all Seokmin has to say before Hansol is unbuttoning his jeans and moving towards their mutual goal at that moment. Seokmin allows himself to get lost in it, groaning when Hansol brushes his sides or the inside of his thighs before he lowers himself and there is nothing separating them anymore.

Seokmin feels like he is baring himself to Hansol each time and Hansol has never made Seokmin regret it once.

Seokmin realizes that they're dating a few weeks later.

Admittedly, he has never actually been quick to understand most social cues or hints dropped here and there, but this should have been blatantly obvious before. Of course, it isn't made easy by the fact that Hansol never says anything to confirm or deny this fact, but his actions are more than enough once Seokmin starts paying attention.

It starts with a simple snide remark made by Soonyoung about Seokmin and his "boyfriend" never hanging out with their group of friends anymore because they're always too busy pretending to not be pining after each other. Chan immediately pulls the elder away with a nervous laugh and lame excuse about his oven being left on and although Seokmin knows that Chan has never once in his life ever touched an oven before, he lets it slide.

But it gets him thinking.

He and Hansol don't have the regular relationship that roommates usually do. They have known each other since middle school and it made sense for them to rent an apartment together so living in the college dorms wouldn't break their bank. It made even more sense to settle for a one-room apartment as well because they had slept in the same bed plenty of times considering all the sleepovers they used to have. The closet was big enough for both their wardrobes and they managed to fit in both of their desks on opposite sides of the room. They might be able to share just about everything else, but a mutual desk would result in chaos and Hansol freaking out about his stuff never being where it is supposed to.

Even with sharing a bed for so many years, it is only recently that Seokmin finds himself having trouble falling asleep unless Hansol is beside him. They always wake up tangled in each other's limbs, but when they lay down in bed, Hansol is always careful to leave space between them. Seokmin never minds it and as soon as Hansol has fallen asleep, he usually drags himself closer and drapes his arms across Hansol's back breathing in his familiar scent until he joins the younger in sleep.

Seokmin still remembers the first time they kissed as well. It was eerily similar to when Hansol threw his backpack into the wall, except for the fact that neither of them got naked that time. Hansol had been fuming, his face flushed red and Seokmin had not known what to do at all because he had never seen Hansol that angry before. His roommate and best friend had simply taken one look at him in the kitchen then stormed towards him and kissed his breath away. Seokmin was frozen for those first few seconds then wrapped an arm around Hansol's waist and kissed him just as fiercely. He vividly remembers the relieved sigh Hansol let out against his lips and the way his fingers had tangled in Seokmin's hair to tug on the strands, but he would be hard pressed to admit that his heart had been pounding in his throat and he liked the elated feeling blooming in his chest when Hansol caught his breath and kissed him again.

That was over a year ago and since then, they have only gotten even more physical. Sex wasn't something that Seokmin had thought would be easy for him, but everything with Hansol is easy. He should not have expected anything less and having Hansol groan out his name almost every night only continues to fuel Seokmin's wet dreams if he is being honest.

It isn't only about the sex, however. More often than not, Seokmin finds himself with a lapful of a tired and cuddly Hansol who wants to sit on the couch and drool all over Seokmin's shoulder in sleep. Seokmin manages to rewatch Black Panther with Hansol one evening and is entirely unprepared for Hansol cupping his face and kissing his cheeks tenderly once the movie is over. His mind is blank and he doesn't know what he should say at all, but Hansol does.

"I love you, hyung. You're my best friend."

Seokmin is sure at that moment they have been more than just best friends for a while now, but this is confirmation enough. Especially when they go grocery shopping the next day and Hansol refuses to let go of his hand the entire time there.

He should have seen this coming, considering all the signs, but it was a pleasant surprise anyway when they next go out with their friends and Seungkwan whines about Hansol being gross with his boyfriend and Hansol only snipes back that Seungkwan is jealous because he's still single. Seokmin tilts his head down to meet Hansol's gaze and smiles when Hansol flushes.

Hansol is obviously nervous he said the wrong thing, but Seokmin has suspected it for a while now, so he only shrugs and takes Hansol's hand in his own. The grin Hansol gives him is enough for Seokmin to dip down and kiss him quickly for all their friends to see.

Soonyoung starts whooping in the background somewhere, but Seokmin is more concerned with Hansol chasing after him to kiss him firmly on the mouth and leave no doubts about what they are to each other anymore.

a/n: happy birthday once again to seoksol! i hope you guys liked this bc i wrote this like last night and was doubting it up until i posted it.

thank you to all for reading. remember that you can always yell at me about this fic!

[harrieatthemet]

can you write a follow up blurb to the one where he asks for a baby?

Having major dad!harry feels lately, plss request more of those I love them

Sitting at the end of your bed, his legs hanging off enough so that when he got a little too nervous he could wiggle them, he intertwined his fingers before resting his hands on his lap. He really didn’t want to upset you, which is why he was doing his absolute best to keep his cool. You, curled up in the corner of the bathroom floor, had lost your cool about 30 pregnancy tests ago.

It was approaching your’s and Harry’s 6th month of what he called ‘baby making’. After agreeing that it was something you both wanted, he wasted no time in getting right down to it. You had stopped the birth control you’d been on, and Harry didn’t need any convincing when you told him to get rid of the rubbers. In fact, he was more than willing to toss them all out. At first, both of you really thought it’d be simple to do. He’d figured, once you were off the pill, all he’d have to do was really give it to you good and within a few weeks his biggest dream would be en route. Wrong. God, he was so wrong. But he really didn’t allow himself to feel sad or get distraught, because it was you who was feeling far worse than he was. With each negative sign, you felt yourself give up just a little bit more. Every pregnancy test you tossed into the waste bin, you felt like you were throwing out a little bit of hope along with it.

“S’done or wha’?” He’d call to you from the bedroom, getting a glimpse of your face from the agape bathroom door.

“Harry,” You’d start slowly, giving him false hope, “really don’t think I’ve got it in me t’look.”

“Just,” He’d huff, frustrated that there wasn’t a way to make this easier for you, “just try, angel. Quick peek, s’all we need, yeah?”

And you did, you’d pick yourself up from off the floor. But, not before saying a little prayer. You’d mutter a little prayer beneath your breath, hoping and begging that this test would be the lucky positive that you needed. So as you shuffled from one end of the bathroom, over to the sink where that little stick was dangling right on the edge, you held your breath in from angst and nervousness.

Harry waited, sitting on the edge of the bed. He, too, would say a little prayer. Yes, this was really something that he had been hoping he’d get. It’s all he wanted, all he thought about, just a little baby to sing to sleep and be silly with. But, it was just getting too hard to watch you suffer through every negative test. He truthfully felt helpless, watching you choke back a sob as you’d toss the test into the trash before going to sulk somewhere in the house.

He got nervous when it was quiet, and he decided that it’d be best to head into the bathroom just to see what was going on. Walking in, seeing your palms pressed to the edge of the sink as your head hung particularly low, he felt his heart fall to his stomach.

“Still no baby?” He’d whisper, to which you’d just shake your head without turning to face him.

You could feel him press up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist as he’d rest his head atop your head. He’d place a gentle kiss to the middle of your head, whispering reassuring thoughts into your hair to help make the pain of the 51st negative test go away.

“M’sorry, Har.” You’d breath, voice a little shaky as you swallowed a few tears.

“Sorry? Nothing t’be sorry fo’, not y’fault petal.” He’d assure you, his heart breaking as you took the weight of everything onto your shoulders.

“Know that you want a baby, and m’just sorry I can’t fucking give you one.” You’d groan, lifting a finger up to brush a frustrated tear away.

“Don’t do that,” he’d frown, spinning you around so you could face him, “don’t blame yourself, angel. Time’s not right, tha’s all. Know we’ll get a baby soon, just when it’s our time.” He’d coo, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before pressing a kiss to your nose.

You’d hastily agree, sucking in a sharp breath and fighting off that one tear that’d threaten to spill over. Harry would act fast though, wiping it away at the brim of your eye before giving you a little pout. ‘Hate to see my girl cry’ he’d chant, poking you in a few ticklish spots in order to pull a smile from you. It wasn’t long before he’d hurl you over his shoulder, traipsing out of the room all while giving your bum a few playful smacks. Though this entire process was killing him, he was good at masquerading as though it wasn’t. Sure, he’d tell you ‘all in good time’ but even he was starting to have doubts, and the painful thought of never being given the opportunity to make a baby with you was starting to eat away at him.

But it didn’t stop you guys from trying, and he’d take you anytime and anywhere. In the morning, on a coffee run, he’d sweep you away into the bathroom and get a quick one in as you awaited your morning orders. Or late at night, as you showered the day off, he’d slip in and press you up the glass before taking you right there in the shower. Or he’d whisper the ‘no harm in trying’ bit just before you’d succumb to sleep, pinning you down on the bed and catching you before you’d doze off, slipping himself into you and eliciting a moan.

But this entire week, you’d been putting him off. Everything was aching, and every time you’d even dare to get up, the room would move in a million different directions and you’d nearly tumble over. The mere thought of food made you sick, and when you ate you couldn’t keep it down. Here you were, sick as a dog and you’d been cursing Harry out for days. You were sure it was the new sushi place he insisted the two of you try out, even though you’d told him you were never big on the whole ‘raw fish’ concept.

“If I have tape worm, or any worm living inside me, swear to god Harry-“ You’d hiss through pursed lips, clutching your stomach as he drove you to your doctors appointment.

“I feel fine!” He’d urge, “We ate the same thing, and look at me, healthy as a horse. Must’a caught a bug, or something” He snickered the moment the word ‘bug’ slipped out.

All you’d do was side eye him, feeling like complete shit and extremely unamused by his tacky and inappropriate joke. Though, as he practically carried you from the car all the way up the doctors office, you were counting your blessings to have him around.

“Thinks it’s tape worm,” Harry’d mention casually to the doctor, “couldn’t be right? We ate the same thing, y’know, and I feel fine. Great, even.”

“Harry,” You’d growl, the doctor smiling politely as she scribbled something down.

Harry shrugged, throwing his hands up in surrender as he coiled into the chair beside the examination table. Shifting uncomfortably in your white paper gown, your stomach growling and moaning, you answered all the questions the doctor was bombarding you with. Harry nodded his head with each question, being that he was extra attentive to you during the past two weeks while you were home sick.

“Well,” the doctor breathed, “I certainly don’t think it’s tape worm. But I’ll take a look and see, since you’re a little concerned. That alright with you, (Y/N)?”

“Sure, yeah, long as you can give me something to keep food down.” You’d joke, smiling as she instructed you to lay down on the table.

She had warned you that the clear petroleum jelly she’d put on your lower stomach would be frigid, but it didn’t stop you from shivering when she poured it on. Harry, just because he was fidgety and bored, grabbed your foot and ever wiggled one of your toes through your socks. The doctor shot him a friendly, though a little weirded out, smile before leaning over to flicker the lights off.

“Alright,” she sighed, “let’s see what’s going on in here, shall we?”

“We shall!” Harry joked, earning an annoyed glare from you.

She brought that fat little ultra sound wand to your stomach, applying a little pressure to your lower belly as she waved and wiggled it around. Trying to get a good angle up on the screen, she did a couple double takes. Harry, with squinted eyes as he scooted in beside you , watched the display on the screen in amusement, though he was confused on what exactly he was look at it.

“That! Right there!” You’d shout, pointing at the speck which you had assumed was the tape worm.

“Oh!” The doctor exclaimed, “(Y/N), honey, that is definitely not a tapeworm!” She’d laugh, a smile growing as she took a closer look.

“God,” Harry groaned, “wha’ is it then? Tell me it’s not from th’sushi, ‘cus I’ll never hear th’end of it.”

“Unless you can get pregnant from a spicy tuna roll, it is definitely not from the sushi.” The doctor joked, which actually made Harry snicker a bit initially. That is, until it hit him what she was insinuating.

“Pregnant?” You’d answer breathlessly before Harry flung himself out of the chair.

“Y’telling me that,” Harry’d stutter, intertwining his fingers with yours as he sat alongside you, “right there, th’little speck, is a baby? A real baby?”

“It’s early still, around 8 weeks, but yes. A real baby.” She’d confirm before exiting to give the two of you a minute, genuinely in awe of just how thrilled Harry was.

“A baby!” Harry’d marvel, rubbing circles with his thumb in the palm of your hand, “you gave me baby.”

[jadewing-realms]

“...it can’t get any worse.”

Fictober 2018 - Day 29

Out of the entire population of the known world—or maybe even the unknown—Hoshigaki Kisame is the very last person anyone should be asking to take care of a child.

At least, that’s his opinion. He dislikes kids. Not ‘hate,’ mind you. He doesn’t hate them. Dislikes them. For many reasons. And none of those reasons are why he thinks most would want to keep children as far from him as possible. Sure, they’re needy, emotional, selfish, nosy, stupid and naive, but that has virtually nothing on the fact that he’s the Blue Beast. The terror of 14 prefectures, known by his work in multiple countries, valued at several millions in bounties, with a flawless hit record and a taste for prey that he can play with first.

He’s worked very hard for this reputation, so why the h*** did Shimura Danzo contact him for this job? It makes absolutely no sense.

Not that he can say no, exactly, not with the pay grade he’s offering, but still… He’s barely even been given anything to work with; something about the National Hero Commission trying to keep the lowest of profiles… And he guesses that, as a fugitive of the law himself, he can understand this.

It’s even mildly amusing that the enforcers of the law are now trying to dodge it. Ah, espionage. If he wasn’t in the hired gun business, that’s probably where he’d be. Much more fun than boring old criminal justice.

His knee is just starting to bounce again when he, at long last, hears the train. It’s close now. Took it long enough; it’s twenty minutes late. And thanks to the delay, the platform is filling up more than he’s really comfortable with. Not that it’s a terribly dangerous place for him to be… Laamu is a pretty remote little town. It’s more of a waystation for trains than anything else. Probably why Shimura picked it as the rendezvous point. The likelihood of anybody recognizing him here is fairly low, all things considered… Still. He wore long sleeves and jeans without holes for today. His complexion is rather… distinct.

The train pulls in with the ease of a greased pump, whipping air and fallen leaves off the tracks into the faces of anyone stupid enough to stand too close to the edge. Kisame remains seated where he is, on one of the benches against the wall, as far from the edge of the platform as he can get. He takes his work seriously; no unnecessary risks. He watches the windows on each car get steadily slower until they at last come to a stop, with Car 7 stopping directly in front of him, just as planned.

It’s nice when things go according to plan.

He pulls his phone from the pocket of his hooded jacket and pulls up the specified informant’s photo again. He’s a bit of a plain-looking guy… brown hair, round eyes. Should be easy enough to spot.

Movies always portray secret agents running around in suits all the time. Psh. How ridiculous. No, Kisame will be looking for average street clothes, something that blends into everybody else. The key will be the hair. And the kid.

Now he waits for them to find him.

Only a few people get off at this stop, but they disappear immediately into the crowd waiting to board. Kisame sweeps his gaze over them all, searching for heads fighting the flow. It’s eight in the morning, and anybody with anywhere to be is on their way out. And since nobody in this dinky little town has gone anywhere yet, it’s understandable that nobody’s on their way back yet.

Ah. There they are.

The informant dude is dressed in an outdated band tee and denim jacket (like, actual denim), darker jeans, and Nikes. A weighty backpack is slung over one shoulder, and he lugs a single, small suitcase behind him. Trailing just behind that, a tiny kid dressed in black follows with his head down and hood up, hands stuffed away in his pockets. Black shoes, black jeans, black hoodie, and the sneaking wisps of black hair peeking out from under the black shadows under the hood.

Great. An emo punk.

Kisame doesn’t stand. Not yet. Only waits.

The informant, who matches the photo more the closer he gets, doesn’t look straight at him, and makes sure to take a wandering beeline across the platform before at last, he arrives close to the bench on which Kisame sits, and pauses to pull out his phone. To anyone else, he looks like he’s simply checking messages or perhaps looking up directions. The kid lingers behind him, still not raising his head. He’s probably been told to keep it down until they’re at the appropriate location—in this case, the safehouse thirty minutes outside of town.

Then the informant meets Kisame’s gaze, jerks his head in gesture, and then heads off toward the exit. The kid follows dutifully. Kisame waits exactly twelve seconds, gets up, stretches, and then follows.

Once in the parking lot, the informant wordlessly allows Kisame to overtake them so he can lead them to his Jeep, which is parked a fair distance from the main entrance. He hops in the front seat and starts her up as the informant and the kid climb into the passenger and back seats respectively. Kisame doesn’t bother waiting to hear the click of seatbelts before he’s pulling out and making for the highway.

The little town of Laamu takes no less than five minutes to cross, with zero traffic, zero lights, and only one stop sign at a major intersection. Once the quaint neighborhood streets fall behind them, the open countryside swallows them up in little woods and rice paddies.

Then and only then does the informant speak.

“You know where you’re headed?” he asks, in a voice that’s softer than Kisame expected it would be. Then again, it matches those wide, almost-innocent eyes.

Kisame snorts. “Never been to the area… I took a little drive around before heading to the station. Scoped things out.”

“It’s a nice place,” the informant hums, gazing out the window. “Quiet, unassuming… Nobody gives you any trouble in places like these.”

“Unless your dog gets into your neighbor’s flowers, nope, not at all.” Kisame shifts his gaze from the road briefly to shoot the man a wary glance. He understands the concept of protocol… but he can cut the crap now. No need for double entendres; it’s not like his car is bugged or anything.

He checks. Every day.

“You gonna debrief me or what?” Kisame just goes for it. No use beating around the bush.

The informant sighs a little. “…Yes. I brought a file for you to look over when we get to the safehouse.”

“We have half an hour; anything you can’t just tell me on the way?”

The informant is somewhat hesitant—why, Kisame can’t begin to guess. They’re hiring him for this job, they’d better be good and prepared to give him every detail he asks for. He doesn’t go into jobs half blind. It increases risk, it’s bad for business and frankly, it’s just plain stupid.

Thankfully, the informant does start talking, sparingly. He tells Kisame about a group of vigilante hackers called Heaven’s Eye, which had apparently been a thorn in poor old Shimura Danzo’s side for quite some time, breaking into secure networks, stealing compromising information about Pro-Heroes and releasing it to the public.

Apparently, they got their hands on some pretty shady stuff, including operations of the National Hero Commission itself, matters of national security, and nobody knows what else. The informant says the commission fears for more sensitive information was accessed—like nuclear launch codes and the like.

Between this information and the occasional pause to give Kisame passenger-side directions, it takes the informant the whole trip to get to this point. They turn off the main roads and cross the last stretch of minimum maintenance, which doubles as the cabin’s driveway, until said cabin comes into view. It’s an old, single-story thing with missing shingles and weathered siding, a sagging porch. Small, unassuming… just like Laamu. A perfect hideaway.

As Kisame’s pulling up to the front and shutting off the engine, the informant lowers his voice to finish the backstory.

“I’m not authorized to go into details, but a third party hired someone to put the group’s leader and several officers down for good.” The informant keeps his gaze steady, but Kisame doesn’t miss the twitch of his eyes—like he starts to glance at the rearview mirror and stops himself a split-second in.

Kisame glances back. Frowns. Looks at the informant. “The kid?”

The informant just gets out of the car in response. Kisame looks back again, but the child is following suit of his guardian—or at least, his guardian until the day’s over.

This certainly wasn’t what Kisame expected.

After the other two, he gets out, the Jeep leaping once rid of his bulk, making the kid at the back of the car suck in a breath in surprise as the informant fishes his suitcase out of the trunk. Kisame snickers.

“I take it the rest I have to—” he starts to say as he rounds to the back, ready to receive the briefing file at long last.

He’s not ready for the kid to lower himself into a bow, to him, and speak in a level, eloquent voice that’s not at all the punkish grumble he imagined it would be.

“I’m sorry for my rudeness,” he says, small voice bouncing off the ground on its way to Kisame’s ears. “I was told not to draw attention until we reached our destination, so I refrained from introducing myself. My name is Uchiha Itachi. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

‘Rudeness’? ‘It’s a pleasure’? Kisame stares, flabbergasted. “What the h***, kid… Did they tell you who I am?”

It’s halfway to rhetorical; only halfway. Given this strange cordiality, Kisame has his doubts. Can he even remember the last time somebody claimed it was a pleasure to meet him? Somebody he didn’t proceed to kill in their sleep shortly after?

“Indeed,” the child—child??—replies calmly, rising to fix Kisame with the biggest black eyes he’s ever seen. The kid looks like a doll. All eyelashes and pale round cheeks. “I’m told you’re a very capable mercenary.”

Kisame tears his attention away from the oddity before him just to glare at the informant (who, to his credit, seems unfazed). “Oh, so he gets all the info ahead of time.”

The informant just shrugs and starts rummaging around in his backpack. Before Kisame can say anything further, he speaks without looking up. “Uchiha-kun, why don’t you take your bag inside?”

It’s a patronizing dismissal, pitched in stark contrast to the maturity that had just spewed forth from this tiny pre-teen’s mouth—and he really is tiny. Uchiha Itachi barely surpasses Kisame’s waist.

Despite this treatment, Itachi nods to the informant and gathers up his suitcase. “Yes, sir,” he says, before marching off to do as he’s told.

Kisame watches him go, puzzling over how on earth such a polite little hellion can exist on this planet. Kids are supposed to be terrors… or so he’s gleaned from his experience.

“Is there something wrong with him?” he blurts, the first explanation to come to the forefront of his mind. In hindsight, it’s probably highly unfair and rude of him to assume this, but he’s never claimed to be an upstanding guy. Which is precisely why he’s confused.

The informant shoots him a stink eye before he whips a manila folder out of his bag and holds it out for Kisame to take. It’s stuffed full of neatly stacked papers, thickened with several paper clips in their midst. As Kisame receives it and begins leafing through, the informant gives him his answer.

“No. His family is very conservative. He’s been raised well.” The informant sets his backpack beside the Jeep’s rear wheel. “The only thing that could be considered ‘wrong’ with him is—”

“Hold up, hold up.” Kisame pauses in his skim of the first page—a profile of the kid who just went inside. “This kid’s an agent?”

The informant stutters into an exasperated sigh, but shakes his head. “It was an honorary induction, for the purpose of his assignment—of which he only had one.”

“The hit,” Kisame concludes, eyes darting further down the page in search of answers.

“Yes.”

“It says he—S***, he killed twelve people? Daddy included?? D***.” Kisame taps the page appreciatively. “Shimura doesn’t play around.”

“Officially,” the informant says sternly, “neither the commissioners or the NHC have anything to do with the incident. We’d like to keep it that way.”

“Duh, that’s why you’re saddling him on me.” Kisame waves him off, too busy drowning in new intel to really care. Because if this kid is really only thirteen, as his profile claims, and he really just killed twelve people in cold blood on orders from Above, then— “So he’s either a psychopath or I’m gonna have to deal with some post-traumatic s***?”

The informant doesn’t look pleased with this summary, but both of them know he can’t dispute it. He’s not wrong. “We couldn’t exactly take him to see a professional after the mission was complete. But yes, the latter is very likely. We don’t expect you to be his shrink, but we figured you might have some experience dealing with a maiden kill and its fallout.”

Okay, the informant’s not wrong either.

This really is turning into a bit of a pain… Kisame doesn’t do comfort. He doesn’t do… nurturing, reassurance, that sort of crap. He’s no good at it, and has no interest in becoming good at it. It’s not necessary for his line of work, so why should he? But apparently, it’s being demanded of him now…

Granted, there’s no way they can enforce that will happen. If the kid turns into some mentally screwed up mess because his government used him and then dumped him in a wanted man’s lap, that’s not his problem. As long as he gets his money every month, as promised.

“He’s a good kid,” the informant insists, as if Kisame asked or something. “He’s young. He needs some kind of guidance. Stability, until things can settle down. This is far from ideal, we’re well aware, but we don’t have much going for options at this point. There’s not a lot for childcare in the underworld. You were the closest person we could find who’s done jobs for us before, relatively cooperative, mostly mentally sound, and not officially labeled as a Villain in the books.”

“Yeah,” Kisame snorts, “so you repay my good service by creating a child murderer and depositing his scrawny traumatized a** on me. You and I both know I’m not exactly qualified for this. I’m not a babysitter.”

The informant’s dark eyes narrow. “Don’t forget, we’re paying you good money to handle this.”

“How could I forget? That’s all I get outta this arrangement.”

That seems to be the end of that, because the informant rolls his eyes heavenward and scoops up his deposited backpack. He slings it over his shoulder and starts walking toward the driveway. “Read the file. We expect a regular check-in on the third of every month. Wi-fi password’s clipped to the photograph.”

Had to get the last word in, eh? Kisame heaves a dramatic sigh in accordance with the government’s dramatic antics and just gives the informant a lazy salute. He’ll figure out whatever else he needs to know from the file, he knows that. And what he can’t find there is bound to be within easy reach from the government-issued computer system inside. Shimura Danzo is nothing if not thorough.

Still. Kisame flips to Itachi’s profile again, glancing over the paragraphs of summary info before settling on the photograph of the kid. Instinctively, he looks up to the cabin, only to find that same kid standing on the porch, just outside the door. With his hands clasped in front of him and the morning sun creeping over the surrounding woods and distant mountain peaks… it’s like a shot from a movie.

Kisame groans to himself and snaps the folder shut. “No sweat, Hoshigaki… you’re just stuck alone on a mountain with a ridiculously pretentious teenager who just murdered his father and eleven other people, and you’re being paid a fortune in compensation and hush money to take care of him until he’s old enough to graduate… from the schooling you have to give him, even though you dropped out of high school, all because everybody in the country would recognize his face now.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, where a headache is beginning to throb. “Right… At least it can’t get any worse.”

[pixiemochi]

Do You Believe in Magic? 🔮

Chapter One: Magic?

❝Jungkook discovers Jimin’s secret.❞

Taehyung stopped in front of one of many mahogany bookshelves that graced Jimin’s flat. He leaned down and stared at a few of the beautiful bottles filled with pretty colored liquids. “You should make me a love potion.” He announced out of the blue.

“Now you know I can’t do that, Tae Tae.” Jimin responded, not looking away from his pastel colored spell book. One hand was following along the words while the other hand was stirring a black spoon in a stock pot sized glittery silver cauldron.

Taehyung looked over at the boy whose hair was a cotton candy pink today, dawning a large soft yellow sweater. “God, when I think of witch you are not what comes to mind.” Jimin just stuck his tongue out at his best friend. “Anyway is it more of ‘you don’t want to give me one’ or ‘you really can’t’?”

“I really can’t,” Jimin corrected. “But yes, it’s both actually. I know why you want it. Hoseok likes you, I’m sure. Besides, it really not right to have someone fall in love with you only because of magic.”

Taehyung hopped up on the large silver table Jimin had his cauldron on. “Are you telling me you’ve never thought about using one?”

The smaller boy looked up at his best friend. “I’ve never been in love, Tae. You know that.”

“Until now,” Taehyung grinned.

Jimin blushed. “I’m not in love,”

“Seriously? The way you look at Jungkook. You have to be in love. Otherwise I’ve suddenly become creeped out because why do you look at him that way?”

Jimin’s blush deepened. “Shut up, I don’t look at him in any way other than friendly.”

“Oh please,” Taehyung said, voice exasperated. “You do not look at me like that and we’re platonic soulmates. I am the friend who gets the most of you friendly love and yet you don’t look at me like that.” Jimin frowned which caused Taehyung to hold up his hand. “And since I know it’s romantic love I am not offended.”

The pink haired boy looked down at his spell book again. “It’s not romantic,” He mumbled.

The taller one rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say,”  

“Besides, I’ve only known Jungkook for a little over a year. If-If I’m in love with any of my friends it would be…um it would be…Yoongi hyung!” Taehyung started laughing so hard he fell of the table. Jimin’s face was red from embarrassment from both Taehyung laughing and the fact that he put his hyung in the category of romantic love. “Stop laughing at me or I’ll turn in you to a toad.” He mumbled.

Taehyung slowly got up, still laughing. He wiped his eyes. “I saw the look on your face when you said Yoongi hyung. We both know it disturbed you to think of your older brother figure as a potential love interest.” He stated, brushing off his jeans. “Just admit it, Chim.”

“Don’t you have a class to get to?” Jimin grumbled as he finished stirring his potion. He walked over to a book self of empty glass bottles. He grabbed ten of them and walked back to the table, beginning to fill each one.

“It got cancelled,” Taehyung explained. “What potion is this?” He asked, watching as Jimin filled all the bottles up and the pretty liquid swirled inside the glass.

“It’s an immunity potion. If you feel like you’re coming down with a cold, drinking a bottle will get rid of it completely before it even starts. It can also help you get over a cold faster if you already have one.” Jimin answered. “And it tastes like strawberries.” He smiled.

Taehyung smiled as well. “You are such a good, sweet little witch. Always looking out for people.” He gave Jimin a side hug. The elder giggled before finishing up the bottles. He tapped each one with his finger and a cork appear with a tag around them said ‘happy health’ in pretty, fancy writing.

“Here, have two of them.” He said to Taehyung, picking up two bottles.

“Ooh, thanks hyung.” He took the two bottles from Jimin and walked over to his bag, placing them in it.

“You’re welcome,” Jimin put the other bottles on the shelf with his finished potions.

“You should just tell Jungkook how you feel,” The pink haired man almost dropped a few bottle when he heard Taehyung say that.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He managed to say.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Come on, Chim Chim. I know you better than anyone. I know you like him.”

Jimin sighed, putting the last bottle on the shelf. “Okay, so maybe I like him a bit. But I can’t tell him.” He stated.

“Why not?” Taehyung asked.

“I don’t want to take our friendship any further with this secret I’m keeping from him.” Jimin explained.

Taehyung sat at the kitchen island this time, eating out of the bowl of chips that was there. “Well, then tell him the truth.”

“I can’t do that either,” Jimin walked over to the fridge, getting out a water bottle. He turned around and leaned on the counter across from where Taehyung was sitting.

“And why can’t you do that?”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve asked Yoongi, the one who’s known about me the longest. He says it might not be a good idea. At least not yet.”

“First off, Yoongi’s a grumpy old man and he says stuff like this all the time. And second, you’ve known Jungkook for a while now.” Taehyung stated.

“I know but it’s taken me a few years to tell any of you guys.” Jimin took a few sips of his water. “Just not yet. I can’t do it yet.”

Taehyung nodded in understanding. “Okay, I don’t want to pressure you. I get it. But if you ask me, I think he likes you.”

Jimin rolled his eyes now. “You’re just saying that.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Nah, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Whatever,” Jimin said. “Since you have no class and I’m done let’s go shopping. I’ve spent too long in my loft.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll never turn down a trip to the mall!” Taehyung shouted, hopping off the stool. Jimin just rolled his eye playfully before heading to his closet area and grabbing his wallet. He placed that in his back pocket alone with his phone in to the other and grabbed his keys next.

“Okay, let’s go.” He said heading for the lift. Taehyung followed him, bouncing with each step. Jimin stared at his friend with a fond smile. He was glad to have someone so understanding.

Jimin had gotten up around the two o’clock hour to head to the bathroom. When he was done he climbed the stairs back up to his bed and noticed his phone was lit up. He crawled up his bed and grabbed the device, seeing that he got a text message from Jungkook. Why was the man contacting him at this time of night?

He opened the text to read ‘hyung, is it okay if I stop by?’

Jimin knew it had to be for a good reason. And he could never say no to his dongsaeng. He replied with a ‘yes’. Only about three minutes after he sent the message he heard the doors to the lift opening. He sat up on his bed and stared at the man that was still standing in the lift.

“Jungkook-ah, we’re you outside when you texted me?” He asked.

Jungkook hung his head in slight shame. “Yeah,” He answered, walking in. “I thought if I was already here you wouldn’t turn me away.”

Jimin climbed down from his bed and walked over to the taller man. “I wouldn’t turn you away at all, you know that.” He corrected, voice soft. The shorter of the two was waiting for Jungkook to look up at him but he soon noticed a blush sweep across the younger’s cheeks as he continued to look down. “Kookie, what’s wrong?” He followed Jungkook’s gaze and realized he was staring at his legs. “Kookie!”

“I’m sorry!” Jungkook apologized quickly, looking back up and holding his hands out in front of himself like he was surrendering. “Your legs are just really nice! Are you not wearing anything under that shirt?”

Jimin’s face flushed bright red. “I’m wearing shorts for your information!” He huffed, pulling the over-sized shirt down some more but that just made one side slip off his shoulders and expose his collar bone and the skin there. Jungkook looked away completely now. With another huff Jimin straightened himself out. “Okay, I’m not going to kick you out, but it’s two in the morning and I’m not changing. Just, don’t stare at me too much.” He grumbled.

Jungkook nodded, looking back at Jimin but at his face this time so he didn’t embarrass both of them again. “Thanks, hyung.”

Jimin just smiled softly. “Kookie-ah, why are you here this late? What are you doing out?” Jimin asked, leading the younger man in to the kitchen. “Do you want some tea?” He asked.

Jungkook nodded again, sitting at the kitchen island. “You’re gonna think it’s dumb.”

Jimin shook his head as he pulled out a tea kettle, filled it with water, and set it on the stove. “I won’t, I promise. You know me better than that, Kook.”

Jungkook sighed. Jimin was right. The pink haired man was the last person to ever judge him, he was the nicest person Jungkook had ever met. “I got in to a fight with Hoseok. It was pretty big. We argued over something so dumb.”

“You can tell me about it, if you want. But you don’t have to.”

Jungkook shook his head now. “No, no, I don’t mind. We were actually arguing over you and Taehyung. Hoseok likes Taehyung a lot. I’m sure you noticed. Who hasn’t, honestly? But like he wanted me to bug you about Taehyung. I don’t even know why that made me mad. I guess I just didn’t like the idea of using the only time I spend with you talking about Taehyung or him. I can’t even remember what we shouted at each other, to be honest. But the last straw was when he called you a freak and I lost it. I may or may not have told him to go fuck himself before I stormed out.”

When Jungkook was finished with his story, the tea kettle blew its whistle. Jimin poured them both a cup, sticking a bag of earl gray in both. He set the honey, sugar, and cream on the counter so Jungkook could access them if he wanted to. Then he took a set at the corner of the island adjacent of the brunette.

“I’m sorry you two got in to a fight. Thank you though for standing up for me. I’m not offended though, so don’t be mad at Hoseok because he called me a freak. It’s alright. I don’t like that you stormed out without resolving anything. But I completely understand.” Jimin said.

Jungkook sighed. “I know; I regret it now too but I’m still a bit miffed by it. I don’t want to talk to him about it just yet.”

Jimin nodded. “Totally fair. You’re welcome to stay of the night of course. And tomorrow I’ll help you fix things.” He gave the brunette another soft smile. Somehow those smiles made the younger feel a lot better about things.

Jungkook reached over for the sugar, putting some in his tea before stirring it and taking a sip. “Thank you, Jimin hyung.”

The pink haired man smiled once more. “Of course,” He took a sip of his tea before he perked up. “Oh, uh, let me get you some clothes to change in to. And like covers for you. My sofa turns in to a bed so you can use that tonight.”

Jungkook just nodded, watching the smaller man hop off the stool and head over to his closet area behind the screen. To keep himself busy, he gazed around the loft. Something about it seemed different. Did Jimin redecorate? There seems to be more things on the wall he last remembered. He was here earlier. He was certain Jimin’s place did not look like this. Was there always a wall for of various glass bottles that held pretty liquids in them?

Jungkook was entranced. He got off the stool and walked over to the other side two where there was a long silver table that had a few things set out on it. Wait, was that a cauldron? He abandoned his mission on finding out what was in all those pretty bottles and instead stopped in front of the table. He noticed a few old looking papers scattered around the table top. Under one of them he caught the sight of something glinting in the moonlight. He pulled the paper off to reveal a glittery book that shined like it was made of jewels. It was pastel and had a picture of a silver unicorn etched in to the cover. Jungkook couldn’t help but run his fingers over the cover of the book.

In a puff of pink smoke, he realized that touching it wasn’t a very good idea.

Jimin grabbed the bedding he needed for Jungkook first, before grabbing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he doesn’t use. He muttered a few words under his breath, expanding the material. Now it was large enough to fit the taller man comfortably. Jimin walked out from behind the screen, noticing that Jungkook was not where he left him.

“Jungkook?” He called. He didn’t hear the lift, so he didn’t leave. And he would have noticed if he walked in to the bathroom. Was he hiding behind the counter for some reason? Jimin walked back to the kitchen, setting on the stuff on the island next to their teas. He didn’t see the younger on the floor either, which honestly ruled out basically all the places he could be. His loft was too open for anyone to hide.

Suddenly he looked down, eyes widened at the site of an adorably fluffy brown bunny hopping to his feet. He knelt down.

“J-Jungkook?” He asked.

Jimin’s eyes widened even more as the bunny started squeaking in…anger? Jimin wasn't sure to be honest. But the bunny wasn’t happy.

The pink haired man bit his lip before scooping the bunny up and carrying him to the table. He noticed his spell book was left out. “Damn it,” He muttered, placing the bunny – er Jungkook – on the table. He opened the book and flipped through the pages until he found the spell that reserved the book’s protection spell. Luckily this one just involved words. He turned to the bunny, and recited the words out loud.

A puff of pink smoke engulfed the creature and when it cleaned, human limbs were flailing around. Jimin’s eyes widened and before he could calm the man down, Jungkook fell off the table. The shorter of the two knelt down next to him. “Jungkook-ah, are you okay?”

Jungkook jumped up, gazing around frantically before pointing at Jimin’s spell book. “That thing turned me in to a rabbit!” He exclaimed. “What the fuck? What the-what the fuck hyung?!”

Jimin frowned, feeling his heart drop. This is exactly why he didn’t want Jungkook to find out. “Kookie, please calm down.”

“Calm down?” Jungkook asked, talking a step back when Jimin stepped closer. He could have sworn he saw hurt flash in the other’s eyes but he ignored it. “Your ridiculous looking book turned me in to a rabbit. And then-and then you muttered some words in some weird language and turned me back!” He then looked around. “And then like your place looks different. Why? What the fuck is all this? You have bottles of color liquids and a cauldron. You have a fucking cauldron.”

Jimin looked away, unable to handle the look of disgust Jungkook was practically giving him. “I’m a witch,” He whispered.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “The fuck? A witch?” He asked. “Are you serious right now? Like in the fucking movies? Like those creepy old hags that put hexes on people and kill children?”

Jimin’s head shot up at that. “I am nothing like that!” He hissed. He was hurt, very hurt. But now he was getting angry too. “I only use my magic for good. For the good of other people. Never for personal gain. I would never hurt anyone. I took an oath as a good witch that I would never use my magic to hurt anyone!”

Jungkook placed his hands on his head, laughing in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this right now. I can’t believe you’ve hidden this from more for over a year. That you pretended you were normal around me for more than a year. God, I can’t believe I’ve been friends with a freak.”

Jungkook’s words hit Jimin like a truck. His whole body ached. He could handle being called a freak by literally anyone else, especially people he didn’t know or care about. It never bothered him. Until he heard Jungkook say it right to his face. This is why Jimin keeps his friend’s list to a bare minimum. No one understands him.

“Get out,” Jimin commanded, voice empty of any emotion. He stared daggers at Jungkook.

“What?” Jungkook asked, looking back at Jimin. He had to admit, the stare the elder gave him made his heart feel heavy.

“I said get out!” Jimin shouted this time, the lights flickering and the building shaking. He was never good with controlling him magic when was extremely emotional. Without another words Jungkook hurried over to the lift, getting in and leaving Jimin’s loft.

When he was sure the younger was out of the building, he collapsed on the floor, sobbing his heart out. And in that moment, Jimin had never hated who he was more.

Masterlist | Next

I had this posted on ao3 but I thought why not post it here too. It’s a part of a series that I have. Hope you guys like it :)

[thenickelportrust]

would it be too bold of me to ask for a scenario based on The Spider Patrol? 👀

You know I gotta do it now. (under the cut for length.)

(ft. Vega because I had google run a random number 1-3 and Vega was 2.)

There’s a common saying- ‘dead end job’- that’s normally used to describe when someone is in a bit of a occupational rut. For you, however, this saying has a couple of different meanings. One is the same as the common usage- working for The Rust doesn’t exactly do much more than pay the bills and it’s not going to get you anywhere fantastic in life anytime soon. The second is a bit more literal, in that there’s a pretty high likelihood that job might just end up killing you one day. The third ties into the second, which is that there’s been many a time when you find yourself at a dead end, back pressed up against the wall, waiting and trying to think your way out of a potentially lethal situation.

Normally, though, the dead end you have your back pressed up against isn’t your own home. And normally the terrors you face aren’t quite as demonic, nor as multi-limbed, as the nightmare that’s crawling towards you, agonizingly slow, with each wiry limb tracing slow gashes down the air as tiny, beady eyes stare at you from where it hangs, lowering itself by a single, silken strand. You hold the lamp to your chest, which had almost fallen off the nightstand when your back slammed up against it, wielding your only weapon- your only protection- from that creature of hell which has invaded your sacred home.

The Spider stares you down, swinging menacingly back and forth in a dastardly draft that dares to bring it closer to you.

You hop onto the bed, not trusting that this… this… beast isn’t going to make a lunge for your way. The very thought sends a chill of terror down your spine- those hairy little legs crawling across your skin, clipper-mouth snapping into flesh- nope. Nope, nope, nope. Nope.

You need out. You need that thing to get out. This is your house and you’re not about to be taken over by an invader like this!

Hell, you’re a Rust reporter! You tackle villains and heroes with powers beyond imagination every single damn day! You’ve brought humans with the power of gods to their knees all by the flash of your camera! You are not going to bow. Not. To. A. Spider.

You lift the light, taking a deep breath. The bed squeaks when you step forward, bringing your lamplight weapon above your head like a baseball bat as the spider clambers up its web and-

You drop the lamp, it hits the bed and then rolls to floor as you scutter back to the wall, hands pressed against it as if you could somehow push it down and make your escape. The spider moved towards you- it moved towards you! Now it slowly lowers itself to the bed, sitting on the edge cockily as if daring you to try and take it on once more.

It’s too strong. You can’t take this thing alone. You need help. You need… backup.

The phone! The phone is on the nightstand, where the vase once was, if you can just reach the phone then…

You scoot an inch, keeping an eye on the little black dot of death in your peripheral, the springs of the cheap bed squeak loudly, and the spider lifts one leg- daring to match you step for step. You can’t risk it. Leaning forward, you keep your feet in place, sinking into the covers, fingers just brushing the edge of the blocky phone, wiggling it forward… just… just a tiny bit more…

Aha! Scraping it from the table triumphantly you hold it aloft in the air with a cheer- then immediately snap your mouth shut when you see the spider scurry onto the side of the bedpost- and down onto the covers.

Thinking quickly you jump off the bed, slamming your leg against the nightstand as you sprint to the corner of the room, fingers flying and texting the first few people that come to mind. You copy-paste the same message over and over again- there’s no telling how many you’ll need for this, so you text everyone you know can deal with a problem as severe as this.

It takes a while, too long a while, for the first of your backup to arrive. You’re not entirely surprised by who it is- Finley is always a quick respondent when it comes to their reporters asking for help, part of their training, you suppose.

“Finn!” You haven’t budged from your corner, and the spider hasn’t moved a single too-long limb from its spot either. It’s a standoff if you’ve ever seen one. “Thank god you’re here, Finn.”

Finley glances around the room once. Then they open up their phone, giving it a glance and then looking back at you, “Yeah… mind explaining what it is you meant by ‘come quick, emergency, help me, please’’?” They then seem to notice your defense crouch, “… and what exactly it is you’re doing?”

“Hiding.” You explain, “Everytime I move it tries to kill me.”

“What does?”

“That.” You point an accusatory finger to your nemesis. Finley squints at the bed.

“Is that a-”

“Ah, a spider!” Both of you jump- er, you would jump, if you had anywhere to jump to, instead you just kinda slam your head against the wall in surprise while Finley jumps to the side, Vega grinning wildly behind them. “It would seem our dear friend has been confined by a vicious arachnid captor. How terrible!”

“Ok, well. The sarcasm is not needed.” You whine.

“Perhaps not necessary,” Vega winks to you, and bravely strides towards the spider, “But certainly a requirement.”

“Those are synonyms.” Finley deadpans, hands shoved deep into their pockets. They pass you a look that reads, clearly, ‘What the are they doing here?’

You return it with a kind of helpless shrug that you hope says ‘We might’ve needed backup.’

Vega is examining the spider with (frighteningly) keen interest, and a (frighteningly) coy smile.

Finley heaves a heavy sigh, “You got a paper towel in here somewhere? I can just flush it down the toilet.”

“Oh no no no!” Vega hops up from where they were testing the patience of spidery death, “You can’t just flush it down the toilet!”

You can see Finley take a deep breath, holding it for a moment as they gather up all the patience they have left and speaking in a slow exhale, “And why can’t I?”

“It’s much too boring, of course!”

“I’m not sure we’re going for the eventful here.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” Vega clasps their hands in front of a pitying frown, “You must live such a dreary life…”

“Look,” You interject yourself into the conversation again. Waiting any longer just gives the spider more time to consider a plan of attack, and the only thing worse than having an enemy in your home is having an enemy in your home figure out your weakness… Which is itself… So you’re already fairly fucked. “I don’t give a damn how the hell you get rid of it but I want it out.” The spider crawls taunting back to the bedpost- feigning a retreat, “And preferably dead.”

“How about flambé?” Vega suggests with a wolfish smile.

“No.” Finley doesn’t skip a beat, a frown creasing their face,“We’re not setting the spider on fire.”

“Why not?” Vega, hands still shoved into their coat pockets, opens their arms in a shrug, “It’s easy. All we need is hairspray, and I have a lighter so-”

“Our goal is not to burn down this apartment building.”

“A little collateral damage never hurt anybody.”

A knock at the door draws your attention, Vega and Finley both seem to hesitate, glancing at you, but there’s no way in hell you’re leaving your barricade until the spider is gone. Eventually Vega wanders off to greet the rest of your backup, while Finley gives you a curious look, “How many people did you ask for help?”

“Uh, well, there was you, Vega, Raf, Ash… Jacob… and, um, Lucy?”

“Boss!” Both you and Finley respond almost automatically, looking to the door, where a rather frazzled Daisy stands, her face flushed red and chest heaving as if she ran up the stairs to get to your apartment. And, well, knowing just how reliable the elevators here are… she probably did.

“Oh, yeah, Daisy, too.”

“Boss are you o-ohhhhh,” Daisy, who had run into your room, skids to a stop when her eyes catch sight of the spider. “Ohhhhhhhh…” She stumbles back, until she’s wedged herself in the corner on the other side of the room. “Ohhhhh…”

“How aptly stated!” Vega swaggers back into the room, “I do believe we’ve a grand wordsmith in our midst, friends!”

Daisy shakes herself off, hopping back onto her feet, then backing away again as she hopped a tad too close to the spider for her comfort. “Uh, don’t worry Boss! I see the problem, I’ll help! I just… uh… you wouldn’t… happen to have any, um… gloves… would you? Maybe, uh, ones that go up the elbow? Or… you know… further if that’s at all possible.” She slides carefully to the side, placing Finley, who still stands closest to the bed with their arms crossed, strategically between herself and the spider.

“I-”

“Hello?” You hear a voice float in from the open door, “The door’s open should we just- hey wait!”

Before it can finish talking though, you hear footsteps trot down the hall, Ayesha’s head pops around the corner, a broad smile flashing over her face, “Hey! Lookit this! There’s a whole party in here! Raf, c’mon!”

“This isn’t really a party…” Finley’s mumblings go ignored as Ayesha strides into the room, followed just moments later by Raf.

“You shouldn’t just barge in…” He reprimands her with a quiet frown, then his eyes sweep across the gathered anti-spider army, “Oh, uh…” Eventually spotting you, still curled in the corner, “What happened? Are you ok?”

“No I’m not ok!” You can’t help but wail, “I asked all of you here to get rid of that and so far nobody’s done anything!”

Raf follows your accusational point, “A… spider?”

“An arachnid assailant!” Vega declares.

“It’s a bug.” Finley shrugs. “Vega wants to burn it.”

“I do have a lighter.”

“No.”

“Why do we have to kill it?” Raf interjects, “I can just take it outside if it’s bothering you…”

“But mercy is boring!”

“I just want it gone.” You’re on the verge of sobbing, not even out of fear anymore, but frustration that this is taking so long to get done. “I don’t care how you do it anymore, just get rid of it. Please.”

“I hear voices!” Blinking away the tears of annoyance, you look up into the doorway just as Lucy bursts through it, nearly taking Finley down with her as she runs into the room. Jacob hops to a halt just behind her, skidding on the carpet as he tries to avoid the collision in front of him as she tackles Finn from the back, catching herself and them quickly as she flashes an arm out and grabs Finley’s shoulder. “Sorry!”

“This really is a party!” Ayesha laughs to herself, leaning against the back wall, watching everything with an amused that just barely contains her laughter.

Lucy and Jacob both look ruffled and out of breath, both of their faces flushed with the same tell-tale red that Daisy had after running up the stairs. “We got… your text…” Jacob seems a little worse for wear than Lucy, who takes over as he leans on his knees and catches his breath again.

“I thought something bad had happened- ran into Jacob here who was also on the way, we figured since you texted us both it had to be serious. So we sprinted here.” She looks around, eyeing the snickering Vega, the now mildly annoyed Finley, the more surprised-than-she-was-fearful Daisy, the barely-contained Ayesha, concerned Raf, and, of course, you, still curled in the corner defensively. “Uh… What’s… the emergency?”

“There’s a spider.” Finley nods to the bed once.

“A spider?” Jacob’s head swings up, a bit of the red drained from his face, no longer panting between words. “Oh! That’s no problem, I can just-…” He trails off when he looks to the bed. Now, all the red is gone from his face. Instead, it’s deeply pale. “That’s a big spider.”

You watch as Jacob backs away, until soon he, too, is behind Finley- and now also Lucy- with Daisy. She pulls him into her own barricade quickly, one hand clasped to his shoulder… You’re not sure if she’s ready to throw him to the spider as sacrifice of if she’s trying to bring him into her safe area, too.

“Look,” Finley steps towards the bed, to which Daisy, Jacob, and even yourself all let out a weak warning. They stop, and sigh. “Let me just kill it, ok? I’ll just grab a paper towel and-”

Raf frowns, “-we could just let it go-”

So does Vega, “-but fire is a much better-”

Lucy shakes her head, “-we’re wasting time, I don’t need a paper towel just let me-”

Daisy jumps to action, almost pushing Jacob back- who lets out a protest of “Hey!”- as she takes a shaking step forward, “-I should prove myself-”

Ayesha is laughing in the corner, too much for her to join the mass of voices. All of which blur together incomprehensibly.

You find yourself looking from person to person- each one raising their voice margin by margin to get an inch over the others. Each one becoming more and more intelligible as they do. Soon, it’s little more than a roar of unknowable words and mashed-together voices, sprinkled with laughter. It makes you almost dizzy to listen to.

That is, until Jacob, who had remained mostly silent throughout all of this, speaks above the noise, “Hey!”

As if choreographed, he draws the attention of every eye in the room, including yours. But Jacob isn’t returning any of the many looks. No. His gaze is locked solely on the bed. “… Where’d the spider go?”

You’re on your feet in a second, pushing bodies aside as you shoulder your way to the bedpost. Now disturbingly spider free.

“Vega…?” Your voice is a whisper, eyes unmoving as if you might spook it back into existence.

“Yes?” They draw out the word, you can see a devilish grin pull back their lips as if they know exactly what you’re about to say.

“The hairspray is in the medicine cabinet,” You incline your head their way, still not glancing away from the spot, “Burn down the apartment, please.”