#i need her emotions to bubble up so much that she becomes a dangerous threat to EVERYONE

[spoopy-nevermore-dump]

I think Lenore should go insane actually

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise

Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfiction ever, and I'm super excited to share it with all of you! I've always loved fanfictions that span across multiple parts because they give so much room for character development and suspense. As a massive One Piece fan, I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I will enjoy writing it!

For this series, we'll start off in the Pre-Time Skip era, specifically during the Sabaody Archipelago arc. Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

A/N: some parts may be changed to fit the story, but others will remain the same. For instance, instead of eleven supernovas it will be twelve. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Sanji x Y/N, OP x Y/N ,

Chapter 1: Desperate Measures: Saving a Friend 

  Having arrived at Sabaody Archipelago with your crew, along with Hatchan, Camie, and Pappag, the vibrant and bustling island immediately overwhelms your senses. The bright, multicolored bubbles floating through the air, the mix of strange and diverse people, and the looming presence of the massive mangrove trees create an atmosphere both wondrous and ominous. You can't help but feel a mix of excitement and unease—Sabaody is a place of both opportunity and danger.

  Luffy, your captain, couldn’t wait any longer to get off the ship and explore. With his usual boundless energy, he leaped from the Sunny, already imagining the adventures that awaited him on Sabaody Archipelago. You remember the day he first asked you to join his crew. It was after a particularly intense battle where your fighting skills had caught his eye. He admired your strength, your resilience, and the way you stood your ground even in the face of overwhelming odds. Luffy, always the one to follow his instincts, had approached you with that wide, infectious grin and simply said, “Join my crew!”

At first, you were taken aback by his straightforwardness, but there was something about Luffy—his unwavering belief in his dreams, his ability to inspire those around him, and the way he saw potential in everyone—that made you consider his offer. He didn’t just see you as a warrior; he saw you as someone who could help him achieve his goal of becoming King of the Pirates. And so, after a moment of thought, you agreed, finding yourself swept up in the Straw Hats' chaotic yet oddly comforting world.

  As Luffy heads down with Chopper, Zoro, is scanning the area to see if there are any threats nearby. “Sense anything Zoro?” you say as you begin to step out of the sunny. “Zoro glances around, his eyes sharp and focused, before shaking his head slightly. "Not at the moment," he replies, keeping his voice low. “Hey Mosshead, back off of Y/N, she doesn’t need you clinging on to her,” Sanji snaps, stepping in between you and Zoro, his eyes narrowing at the swordsman.

Zoro glares back, “Who’s clinging, you curly-browed idiot? I’m just making sure there’s no trouble.”

Before the argument can escalate further, Nami steps in, her hands on her hips. “Enough, both of you. Sanji, you’ll stay behind to guard the treasure along with Usopp. Franky, you’re staying on the ship too—just in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

Sanji’s expression immediately softens, his usual heart eyes appearing as he turns to Nami. “Of course, my love, anything for you!” he says with a dreamy sigh. Then, as if remembering his role as the lovesick cook, he pulls out a single rose, handing it to you with a flourish. “Y/N, keep this with you on your journey, so you won’t forget about me.”

You take the rose, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “How could I forget about you, Sanji? I’ll be sure to keep it close.”

Sanji’s heart skips a beat as you flirt back, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Though he’s always been bold with his affection, there’s something about the way you respond that makes his heart race a little faster. You’ve always admired Sanji’s charm and his relentless dedication to those he cares about, and in moments like this, it’s hard not to let your own small crush on him slip through.

  As you all disembark the ship, Hatchan begins to explain that he knows someone who can coat the ship for your journey to the next destination, Fishman Island. Camie and Pappag act as your guides, showing you around. Nami and Robin decide to head out for some shopping.

“You sure you don’t want to tag along?” Nami asks.

“Yeah, we could have our own mini girls’ day,” Robin adds with a smile.

Shaking your head with a smile, you reply, “No, that’s alright, you two go on ahead. I’ve got to make sure these guys”—you gesture towards the remaining group—“don’t wind up in too much trouble.”

“I’ll be sure to get you something!” Nami calls out as she and Robin head off to the stores.

“Well, Zoro, looks like you and I will be taking care of…”

“Zoro??”

“Damn, did he just leave?” You sigh and make your way back to your group.

 Meanwhile, back on the Sunny…

“Sanji, you gotta relax, buddy. Nami, Robin, Camie, and Y/N are safe and fine,” says Franky, trying to calm Sanji down.

Sanji exhales a cloud of smoke from his cigarette, his eyes still filled with concern. “Yeah, I know,” he mutters, “but I can’t help worrying about them. Especially Y/N… she’s always getting into trouble, and I can’t help but think I should be there to protect her.”

Franky gives him a reassuring pat on the back. “You’re on guard duty here, remember? We’ve got to keep the ship safe.”

Sanji’s gaze softens as he looks at the rose he’s tucked away for Y/N. “I just wish I could be there with her… make sure she knows how much she means to me.”

“Don’t worry, Sanji,” Franky chuckles. “They’re in good hands with you watching over the ship. And besides, you’ve got your own way of showing you care. That rose will do wonders.”

Sanji nods, taking a deep breath and letting his worry slowly fade. “You’re right. I’ll keep an eye out and make sure the ship stays in one piece. Just hope she gets my message.”

He glances at the rose again, a small smile appearing on his face as he tries to refocus on his duties.

  Back in Sabaody… 

 After witnessing the cruelty of the nobles, a shiver ran down your spine as the unsettling images replayed in your mind. You couldn't shake the feeling of anger and disgust.

“Those bastards, no one should be treated like that,” Luffy says, his voice filled with rage. “I don’t care if you’re a noble or not.”

“It’s truly a horrifying sight to see,” Brooke agrees, his usual calm demeanor marred by the gravity of the situation. He and Chopper hurry to catch up with you and Luffy.

“Luffy, remember we promised Hatchan we’d lay low for a bit,” you remind him, trying to steady your own emotions. “As much as I want to strike back, we can’t risk it. We have to stay out of trouble for now.”

Just then, you’re ambushed by a group of bounty hunters who had been lying in wait. One of them, a scruffy man with a leering grin, points at you with wide eyes. “Hey! You’re Y/N, the one with the $115,000,000 Berry bounty. You’re one of the Supernovas!”

“Supernovas?, what are they talking about?” you say in a hushed tone. 

Before they can react, you draw your blades with swift precision. The air around you crackles with energy as you unleash a flurry of strikes, each move perfectly calculated to disarm and incapacitate your attackers. Your combat skills, honed through countless battles, shine as you take them down one by one.

Luffy watches in awe, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he sees you effortlessly dispatch the bounty hunters. “Nice work, Y/N!” he cheers.

Brooke and Chopper finally catch up, their eyes wide at the sight of the defeated hunters. “Looks like we’ve got some unwanted attention,” Brooke observes. “But impressive as always.”

Smiling as you sheathe your blades, your breath steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “We need to stay sharp. Let’s get moving before more of them show up.” 

  Finally, after a bit of traveling, they reach Grove 13 and a bar where the coating engineer is said to stay. Upon entering, they are greeted by Shakky, the bar’s owner. A former pirate and friend of Hatchan, Shakky introduces herself with a friendly smile.

"Nice to meet you all," Shakky says. "I've heard quite a bit about the Straw Hats.”

The group exchanges pleasantries before asking about the engineer, Rayleigh. Shakky informs them that Rayleigh hasn’t been seen for a while, though he hasn’t left the island. He’s been wandering the bars and casinos for the past six months.

"Well, if Rayleigh’s been missing for that long, we might have to search for him ourselves," Luffy says.

Shakky nods. “Be careful. Since your arrival, there are now twelve rookie pirates with bounties over 100,000,000 berri who’ve reached the Red Line. Luffy, you're second highest among them.”

As the group absorbs this, Shakky explains that most of the Supernovas are staying in Grove 24. She describes some of them: Capone "Gang" Bege, the mafia-type pirate with a bounty of 138,000,000 berri, Jewelry Bonney, with a bounty of 140,000,000 Berri, Basil Hawkins, known as "The Magician" with a 249,000,000 bounty. In another part of the grove, Eustass "Captain" Kid (315,000,000) and Scratchmen Apoo (198,000,000)

In Grove 21, "The Mad Monk" Urouge (108,000,000) and "Massacre Soldier" Killer (162,000,000) next is "Red Flag" X Drake (222,000,000), a former Marine Rear Admiral, and Trafalgar Law (200,000,000), the last of the rookies. Shakky hands you the wanted posters and you note with a small smile that you and Zoro are also among the Supernovas. You’re listed with a bounty of 115,000,000, and Zoro with 120,000,000. 

As you glance at the wanted posters of the Supernovas, you mutter with a playful grin, “Wow, Killer, Eustass Kidd, and Law… they’ve got something uniquely captivating about them. They look kind of cute.”

Brooke, catching your comment, bursts out with a cheerful, “Yoohoo! Looks like Sanji’s got some competition!”

You chuckle and tease, “Oh, definitely. Killer’s dangerous allure, Kidd’s raw intensity, and Law’s cool confidence—they each have a certain edge that’s hard to ignore.”

Leaning in closer, you let your voice drop with a sultry edge, “It’s not just their looks. There’s something about their vibe that’s a little… irresistible. Makes me wonder how they’d be in person.”

Brooke's jawbone clinks with his laughter. “Well, I can’t say I blame you. A little competition always spices things up, doesn’t it?”

You wink playfully. “Exactly. It’s all about the thrill of the chase. But for now, let’s see what these Supernovas are really like. Who knows, maybe they’ll be even more intriguing up close.”

Brooke’s grin remains, his eye sockets gleaming with amusement. “I’m sure they will be. But remember, Sanji’s keeping a close eye on you. Don’t let him get too worked up!”

You laugh, the mischief in your eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry. A bit of competition never hurt anyone. It just makes everything more exciting.”

With that,the group heads out to find Rayleigh, the playful tension lingering in the air. 

   As the group sets out to find Rayleigh, Luffy suggests a visit to Sabaody Park to enjoy the day. Camie, brimming with excitement, eagerly tells you about the park’s significance and her past visits. You walk side by side with her, absorbing the vibrant atmosphere of the park and the joyful energy of the rides.

As you and Camie sit on a bench in Sabaody Park, catching your breath from the excitement of the rides, you both share a contented sigh.

"This place is amazing," Camie says with a smile, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I wish I could have experienced it like this more often. It’s so much fun!"

You nod, enjoying the moment. “I’m glad we could have this day. It’s been a blast.”

Just as you’re about to take another bite of your snack, a shadow looms over you. Before you can react, someone covers your mouth with a cloth, and another pair of hands grabs Camie. You both struggle, but the suddenness of it leaves you disoriented.

Through the fabric muffling your cries, you hear Camie's muffled voice. “Mmmph! What’s happening? Let us go!”

You try to yell out, but the cloth over your mouth stifles your words. Panicking, you reach for Camie’s hand, and you feel her trembling. The sound of ropes tightening around your wrists and ankles is followed by the heavy thud of sacks being pulled over you.

You catch a glimpse of Camie’s frightened eyes as she is shoved into a sack next to you. Through the layers of fabric, you try to comfort her.

“It’s going to be okay, Camie,” you whisper as best as you can through the gag, though it comes out as a muffled sound. “We just need to stay calm.”

You can hear the muffled sounds of Camie’s sobs from the sack next to you. The kidnappers’ harsh voices are distant but clear enough to make out their cruel intentions.

One of them grumbles, “They’re going to make a fine addition to the auction. The buyers will love them.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. The realization of being taken to be auctioned as slaves hits hard, but you try to remain composed for Camie’s sake. You shift slightly in the sack, trying to offer some comfort with your presence despite the dire situation.

In the oppressive darkness and confined space, all you can do is hope that your crew will find you in time before it’s too late.

.

.

.

OMGGGG, what do you guys think??? This one was long! But it'll be all worth it! Next chapter is going to be a good one that you don't want to miss. Currently writing it as we speak! Welcome to my page and I can't wait for you guys to read what I have in store! 

[crystallizedday]

So for the past few weeks, I’ve been fleshing out my “PPG 20 Years Later” AU a bit in my spare time, & I’ve finally decided to share what I have so far with y’all!

Do keep in mind that these are just concepts I may change later & these are all just sketches for the most part, but I’m way too excited about this AU & I’m too lazy to do the line work, so uh

HERE YA GO!!

Also, this AU’s based off of the first 4 seasons of the original show, so uh… do keep that in mind too.

Anyway, let’s start off with the designs for the trio.

Since Blossom’s the most academically smart of the three, I had her be the one to follow her father’s footsteps & becoming a professor, a master of many scientific trades. During that 20 year time skip, Professor Utonium actually created his own research facility, one that Blossom later inherits & runs.

Bubbles is a veterinarian, the best Townsville could ever offer. Being able to speak to & understand any & all animals certainly helped her obtain that title. Her kindness from her childhood is still as strong as ever, evident by how she spends most of her time outside of her job doing community work & generally helping out the city however she can.

Buttercup is Townsville’s star athlete, competing in any & every sport she can schedule. She is far more in control of her own emotions than when she was a child, rarely ever lashing out at anyone who didn’t deserve it. She is a lot more patient & considerate of others than she used to be, & is never afraid to lend a helping hand when needed.

Out of the three, Blossom is the most… well, not okay as she begins to struggle with feelings of self doubt. During one of her more concerning episodes, she created a little A.I. buddy to keep herself more emotionally stable.

Button was programmed to be very kind & considerate, her primary function being to keep Blossom company & to ensure she did not do anything too… heinous, something Blossom is immensely paranoid of. Button CAN & WILL go beyond her initial programming to try & get Blossom to socialize more often instead of being cooped up in her lab 24/7.

Button is only visible through a particular pair of goggles Blossom created for herself, just to make sure no one else would discover Button’s existence. After all, she didn’t want anyone thinking she’s finally lost it, & she didn’t trust anyone else to know about her dwindling mental & emotional state.

Because therapy is apparently overrated.

Button simply wants the best for Blossom & everyone else in the world, constantly pushing Blossom to focus on inventions that ensure the safety of the people & could help them thrive. However, this clashes with Blossom’s ever-growing desire to do something about the rising crime rates, since Blossom’s solutions for that particular issue tend to be rather extreme, much to Button’s disapproval.

& while Blossom for the most part listens to whatever Button will suggest, her initial trust in Button’s opinions become… skewed, not due to anything Button does in particular, but more so due to Blossom’s dwindling self worth taking…

too much of a toll on her…

…

NOW ON TO THE BADDIES!!

Mojo Jojo is still kicking, just as persistent & petty as ever. & while the city has grown more used to his… questionable acts of villainy or even his genuine practices of his own citizenship, he is still VERY MUCH a threat, his mechs & schemes growing more & more dangerous by the year.

He’s also… incredibly lonely, & will pathetically beg for ANY other villain to hang out with him so he’ll have SOMEONE to talk to for once.

Princess Morbucks has recently inherited her father’s business, just as Blossom has. She is still very much a brat, but now she no longer needs her father’s permission (for the most part) to throw money at her problems. Despite her criminal record & unlikable attitude, she has become a bit of a celebrity to Townsville & even other neighboring cities. She will almost always use this fame to rag on anyone she pleases, particularly Blossom & the facility she inherited. However, Blossom couldn’t give less of a shit, often leaving Morbucks frustrated with how she can never get a reaction out of her.

Fuzzy Lumpkins is VERY much retired & spends most of his time in his lil shack, enjoying the quiet & beauty of the luscious forest around him. He surprisingly doesn’t mind visitors nowadays, but he rarely ever speaks. He just likes to listen. Bubbles often visits him from time to time to talk with him, since she worries poor Fuzzy gets rather lonely, & she feels like he doesn’t deserve to feel so lonely.

Him has gotten quite the transformation over the years. He’s become a little more monstrous now with no pupils & no visible mouth… at least not at first. He doesn’t actually SPEAK with his claws, he simply eats with them. WHAT exactly? Well I’m sure you can figure that one out. His boa has also formed into a sort of tail for him, constantly moving around & such. He rarely ever leaves his own dimension, only ever bringing certain mortals into his world either for his own entertainment or as a snack. Thus, it’s a lot harder to really deal with him.

The Amoeba Boys are NOT the same characters as the ORIGINAL idiotic Amoeba Boys. Instead, they are mitosis-created descendants of what has essentially become a sort of mafia-esque family, with three of them getting the originals’ hats as a sign of “passing on the torch”. Unfortunately, the youngest one’s hat had become far too torn & tattered throughout the years, so all that the little guy’s left with is a hat they stole at some convenience store one day.

With how fast they’ve been multiplying for the past few years, it might not be long until they’re eventually taken care of for good to prevent them from taking over Townsville with their sheer numbers ALONE.

Sedusa has long since retired from her criminal ways, now settling down as a still-single woman (cause, let’s face it, she may be hot, but no one in Townsville wants to share their bank account with this woman) just trying to keep herself beautiful.

She’s cranky, irritable, & even the mere mention of the PPG gets her in a bad mood after all the shit they’ve done to her. All she wants nowadays is to be left alone to live her life without being accused of a crime she didn’t commit… which happens a lot on a count of she used to be a master of disguise & all.

Now…

It is time for the IMPORTANT SIDE CHARACTERS!!

Or at least a few of them, because I am reaching the image limit for this post & I haven’t fleshed out too many citizens yet.

While I am not COMPLETELY sure about this one, I am thinking Miss Bellum probably stepped up to be mayor once the OLD mayor… well… yeah.

She didn’t necessarily WANT to, feeling like she didn’t really deserve to be the mayor (showing that, despite how she knew of the old mayor’s incompetence, she still cared for & respected him very much), but Townsville quite liked her & how much she’s helped the city over the years, so she was encouraged into this position. Her competence has greatly helped Townsville stay afloat, & her own combat skills means she can handle almost any attempts to harm her or take her hostage without the need to call for aid.

Now…

Y’all remember Mr. Green from the Chris Savino seasons of the original series?

Well, while I have my fair share of problems with that episode, I decided to not waste the potential of this character & use him as the basis for a bit of an oc of mine…

SOOOOOOOO…

Miss Keane is still a kindergarten teacher, but she often still keeps contact with the PPG to see how they’re all doing. She’s even sweeter than she used to be 20 years ago, & every kid in Townsville absolutely adores her for it.

However, at some point, she met a certain someone, a fellow teacher. On account of the green skin, unnaturally white hair, & the horns, this guy was most likely from Monster Isle, where all the monsters that attack Townsville are from. It’s odd how he’s more humanly proportioned & it HAS raised a few eyebrows considering this isn’t what monsters are usually known for, but Miss Keane didn’t care.

She saw how sweet & considerate he was & eventually fell in love with him, the two being married for a good few years now. This as well as a few other accounts of Townsville civilians showing some compassion & humanity towards other “monsters” has recently resulted in a sort of shift of attitude towards monsters in general, even if tensions between the two sides are still rather high.

So uh

Yeah!

Meet Mr. Oliver Tilia!

A play on both the word “Reptilia” as well as the tilia genus, which (during my brief research on it) can be found in some species of trees & bushes! This’ll make sense in another post.

So uh…

Yeah!

That’s pretty much what I got so far!

Imma make a reblog of this to showcase some other sketches of mine to further flesh out this AU, but this shall be the main post about it!

I hope y’all enjoy this AU!

& hopefully I’ll get a better name for it soon JWIWKWKCKSKDL

[stillalive19567]

Beneath The Surface | JenLisa | GxG | Chapter 16

She shakes her head, disappointment etched across her features. “You’re so caught up in this idea of being a protector that you can’t see how suffocating it is! I need to know you’re with me, not above me.”

“Maybe I don’t know how to do that!” I shout, the frustration spilling over. “I don’t know how to be what you want me to be while I’m trying to keep us both safe!”

“Then figure it out, Jennie!” she yells back, her voice raw with emotion. “I can’t keep fighting for your trust if you won’t give me anything in return! I want my sister back, not this shadow you’ve become!”

“I already stopped, Rosie,” I say, my voice edged with frustration. “I stopped coming between your way. It’s you who keeps approaching me. I’ve stopped trying to protect you.”

She cuts me off, her tone sharp. “But it’s still suffocating! You can’t just pretend everything is fine and act like you’re not still controlling my life!”

“What do you want me to do?” I snap, feeling my patience wearing thin. “I’ve stopped trying to control everything and now I’m here to support you. What should I do? Just let you run off with whoever?”

She crosses her arms defiantly, her eyes narrowing. “Yes! Just stop hovering over me! I need space, Jennie! I need to figure things out for myself without you constantly judging me!”

I feel my anger bubbling up again. “Judging you? I’m not judging you! I’m trying to keep you safe from the people who don’t care about you, like So Hee! You think she has your best interests at heart?”

“Maybe she does! You don’t know her like I do!” she retorts, her voice rising again. “You can’t keep labeling everyone as a threat just because you’re scared!”

“Scared?” I laugh bitterly. “I’m not scared, Rosé! I’m angry! Angry that I’ve been trying so hard to keep us both together, and you just throw it back in my face like it means nothing!”

She steps closer, her eyes fierce. “And I’m angry that you think you’re the only one who gets to decide what’s best for me! You’re not my mom, Jennie! You can’t just make all these choices for me!”

“I never said I was your mom!” I shout, feeling the tension crackle between us. “But you act like a child, running after someone who clearly doesn’t care about you! You think it’s okay to just forget everything I’ve sacrificed for you?”

“Sacrificed? What have you sacrificed? Your own happiness?” she fires back, her voice filled with incredulity. “You’re the one who refuses to let go! You can’t even see how your controlling behavior is tearing us apart!”

“Fine! You want me to let go?” I step back, feeling the weight of her words crush me. “I’ll leave! As soon as this case is over, I’m out of here. I’ll leave this academy, and everything will go back to how it was before!”

Rosé shakes her head, disbelief etched on her face. “So that’s it, huh? You’re just going to give up? You’re not even going to try to understand me?”

I cross my arms, feeling defensive. “What’s the point? Every time I try to reach out, you just push me away. You don’t want my help, Rosie. You want to do this on your own, so fine! Go ahead!”

“Stop acting like you’re the victim here!” she snaps, frustration boiling over. “You think I enjoy this? You think it’s easy for me to feel like I have to walk on eggshells around you? You’re my sister, Jennie! I need you to be here for me, not judging me or making me feel like I’m a burden!”

“You think I want to judge you?” My voice cracks, revealing the strain beneath my cold facade. “I just want you to be safe! But you don’t see that, do you? You’re too wrapped up in your own world to understand the dangers lurking around you!”

“Maybe you’re the one who’s blind, then!” Rosé throws her hands up in exasperation. “You’re so focused on protecting me that you can’t see how much I’m hurting! I’m not a child anymore, Jennie! I can’t keep living in your shadow, and I won’t!”

“I’m not trying to overshadow you!” I retort, my voice rising. “I’m trying to save you! Can’t you see that? Everything I do is for you!”

She narrows her eyes, the tension crackling like electricity. “No, it’s for you! It’s about you feeling like you’re in control. You can’t stand the thought of losing me, can you? That’s why you’re suffocating me with your overbearing ways!”

“I’ve stopped trying to control you, Rosie,” I say, frustration boiling over. “It’s not my fault you still feel that way.”

She scoffs, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, please. You think you can just walk away and act like it’s all okay? You’re not even my real sister. You’re fucking adopted!”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I refuse to let her see how much they hurt. “Alright, if that’s how you feel, then I won’t protect you anymore. I’ve already stopped trying to control you. I’ll support you, but I’m done forcing myself into your life.”

Without waiting for her response, I turn and walk away, the heavy weight of our argument pressing down on me. I don’t look back, knowing if I do, I might break. As I step outside, the cold air hits my face, and I let it wash over me, trying to clear my mind of the chaos that just unfolded.

I try to convince myself that this is what she wants. Maybe it’s time for her to stand on her own, to face the world without my shadow looming over her. I think about how every time I tried to protect her, it only seemed to push her further away. Perhaps this distance is exactly what she needs to realize that I’m not the enemy here.

Still, doubt seeps into my mind. Is this truly what she wants, or is it just the heat of the moment talking? The thought of losing her grips my heart like a vice. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m abandoning her just when she might need me the most.

But she needs to learn to fight her own battles, to carve her own path. This was the plan, right? To give her the space she craves, to allow her to make her own mistakes without my interference. I wish I could be the supportive sister she needs, but the weight of our past makes that difficult.

As I step outside, I take a deep breath, hoping to find clarity in the cool air. This has to be what she wants. She’s made it clear time and time again that she doesn’t want me hovering over her like a protective cloud. I can’t afford to forget that, even if it breaks my heart a little more each day.

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched And Divine (Pt. 8)

(Yoon Min Joon x Reader) (Hybrid au) (Mafia au)

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers in hidden lies and dead bodies. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks. The clock ticks closer- every second he has with you bringing him closer to zero.

Tags: pregnant! Reader, Dead bodies, hybrid on hybrid violence, referenced police mistreatment/indifference, mentions of emotional/physical abuse, referenced drug use/overdosing, Angst, touch starved characters, violence, explicit sexual content, foursome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, Breeding kink, knotting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, unrealistic amounts of cum, cumplay, marking kink, Dom/sub undertones, Dom! Namjoon- Sub! everyone else, Cum control, Overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving)

W/c: 20.3k~

A/n: get ready for some nasty af smut~ But also be mindful of the angsty tags. You guys are gonna hate me for the cliffhanger! 

Series Masterlist

One month after your husband's death

- Yoongi had learned when and where not to provoke his owner over the years. Yoongi hadn’t been born with the ability to hold his tongue, His biting proclivities earning him more than a few broken ribs and bloody noses in his lifetime. But no matter, his owner had trained his tongue out of him, had even threatened to cut it out on occasion.

- And yet, his personality couldn’t be measured in the same way, a simple eye roll or a huff or sigh was enough to land him in trouble. Which is why he’s in the position he’s in now; Bloody lip, another bruise likely forming under his eye and on his ribs. His head spinning from what is likely another concussion. How many could a person get before they had brain damage? Whatever the number- Yoongi was probably toeing the line or already over it.

- He’s trying to avoid more damage, which is why he sits outside of the living room of their double-wide trailer. His owner has a nicer house somewhere- but this is the place that’s always functioned as the stomping grounds for all of her illegal business. And It’s the only building that Yoongi’s ever been able to call home.

- The yellowing walls that have turned greasy with cigarette smoke over the years, as well as the thin blanket and the pillow that he uses on the couch when no ones hanging around. If they are and the house is filled with gangsters- Yoongi’s usually doomed to the floor or until they leave for the night. Only able to sleep without his back to the wall when the gangsters stop their drugging (usually methamphetamines) and intoxication (most often moonshine)

- More than one person’s overdosed on the couch that Yoongi calls his bed. He tries not to think about it when he goes to sleep. What did it matter if someone else had died here- at least Yoongi was still alive.

- Even breathes stick in Yoongi’s lungs like honey, something dammed and impure. It’s a testament to his nerves (or years of learned abuse) that he doesn’t flinch when the crashes and bangs increase from the other room. It’s just glass breaking- now gunfire- that would have Yoongi ducking and running for cover.

- Revelry like he’s used to surviving through hasn’t existed in recent months, not since the business, or lack thereof had started to seep into every moment like a slow-moving poison. Gang wars are messy and they take years to play out. But it hadn’t been until four weeks ago that his owner’s gang had suffered its first casualty. A gang couldn’t exist without its plug, and now there was a power vacuum in the underworld. And whoever controlled the supply would be the most in-demand.

- “I’ve had enough of your bullshit excuses! If you don’t find the shipment this instant I’m going to start blowing brains like bubbles” his owner screeches. A tumble and shatter sounds from the other room, probably the plate of food Yoongi took in before. Cooking was one of his only valuable skills according to his owner, and he’s spent at least a quarter of his life avoiding a beating by becoming a better cook.

- The threat doesn't bother him. Yoongi barely lets himself think about the business of the gang, the bloodstains and bodies that they’ve most definitely left in their wake. He tries not to let it bother him knowing that there will probably be more in the next few months. His only concern is making sure his body isn’t one of them.

- Yoongi doesn’t care about anything other than keeping himself alive. And even that just barely.

- He listens from outside the door, her screaming finally quieting. This isn’t the first meltdown of her’s he’s witnessed this week. He hears the rustling of papers, silence from her as whoever's on the other side of the phone speaks. “Yeah I have it, fuck- his bitch must really be moving if she already has this in the goddamn paper.” She pauses, and Yoongi hears one of the gangsters stoop to try and clean up the mess that she’s surely made, “If that’s true, I think I know the perfect person for the job- if you can even call it that.” 

- It helps that Yoongi’s not expected to speak. Sometimes, when there’s a loud enough noise, or when he sneaks out to walk the sum mile to the beach, Yoongi speaks. Just a sentence or two at a time, his voice gruff and sore after a few words. Just to make sure that he can still do it and hasn’t forgotten how. That his voice still exists hidden somewhere in his chest and his throat. Locked away like a delicate yolk- only able to be seen if you break the eggshell outside.

- “Yoongi!” his owner shrieks, and he has the good sense to hasten to a place where she can see him. He stands in the doorway and doesn’t meet her eyes. There are a few assorted gangsters here. His owner looks unhinged, her flyaway hairs sticking in front of her face, wiping away smudged lipstick and a fair amount of saliva that had dripped down her chin from all her screaming.

- “I have a job for you” She tosses a newspaper at him, and Yoongi catches it easily. Careful not to step into the mess of glass that would surely cut his feet. A drawn red circle cuts through an article on a local high school to highlight something in the purchased ads. Just a little map with a heading “hybrid sanctuary: a safe place, three meals a day. If you or anyone you know has witnessed hybrid abuse, please call this number for help.”

- Yoongi looks up, giving her a short nod. Yoongi will do whatever she needs in order to survive. Anything to keep the blood in his veins and his heart beating. 

- He listens patiently while she explains the plan.

---------- Now---------

- The clock ticks, and You don’t find the body until noon. By then there are flies buzzing around him. Blood already dried on those fingertips and underneath His fingernails- the sun warming his body like the hybrid could still be alive.

- You’re just retiring from a day working in the garden (usual and ordinary) when one of the bear hybrids thunders through your door- his eyes wide, shouting for you (strange and surprising). Yoongi is the only one with you; Jimin’s just set off down the hill to change. Namjoon’s not in the house either; helping Jin with more fencing for the animals. 

- Your grim expression is mirrored in the terse face of the teenage hybrid that had been going for a walk when he’d found him. You’d started down the hill at a run At least until Yoongi had stopped you. Eyeing your stomach with a worried expression. It’s not that you can’t run or that he doesn’t think you should it’s that the hilly path down to the front entrance is littered with potholes.

- It’s not your first time seeing a dead body (that honor is owed to your late husband) but the unnatural way a body lies still is always incredibly unnerving. You lean over the body nausea rolls in your belly worse than it ever did in the first few months you were battling your morning sickness. But you know you can’t vomit over a crime scene.

- You recognize the body, It’s one of your hybrids; a coyote hybrid that came to you after the second month you were open, and had come and gone quite a bit since then. You need to look at your ledger to know for sure if he was in-between stay or if he’d been here prior to today.

- You tend to be a little laxer with the hybrids that aren’t permanent residents of the farm. You barely even learn the names of the deer hybrids that come for a dinner or two here and there before they go. You’re used to the nomads and this hybrid was one of them. You’re kicking yourself for that now. Because if you have a killer in your mix- a shiver goes down your spine at the thought of any of them being in danger. You need to get all of your hybrids in one place to make sure they’re safe. Right now.

- You turn to yoongi and the teenager; a bear hybrid from Tae's group- Beomgyu. You recall the little details you know about him- how he likes to hang around with Yeonjun and the other cats in the kitchen sometimes. He’s so young, eyes wide, shaking his head making his curved ears flop when he finally tears his eyes away from the body and looks at your face. 

- You make your voice more soothing, “Ring the lunch bell- get everyone by the main barns okay? We need to make sure everyone is accounted for” the bear hybrid turns to run up the hill but you catch his arm. “The barns have to direct a line of sight to here- so keep the children in the far-field, after you ring the bell- get Namjoon and Taehyung and tell them to come here before you tell anyone what's happened.” The last thing you need is a group stumbling around here and contaminating a crime scene.

- He leaves with a thunder of footsteps in the dry grass, “Yoongi” you say, “Would you mind going up to the main house to get the logbook and my cellphone?” Yoongi looks like he doesn’t want to leave eyeing the road with a suspicious glare. Making a noise in his throat and staying put. “Yoongi” your voice is strangled- like you’re trying not to cry. “He’s been dead for hours, any danger here has passed, I’m safe- I promise.” but Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your hand and then thinks better of it.

- At the sound of heavy footsteps you both look back up the hill- Namjoon racing in your direction, his ears pinned to his head with Taehyung not far behind. He gives you one final glance and nods before he takes off up the hill. Namjoon stops when they pass, calling his name but Yoongi doesn’t stop. “let him go Namjoon” you call behind.  

- The bell that they use to call people in at mealtimes tolls out across the field.

- Yoongi watches as the kits raise their heads from their playing in the field. A look at the sun telling them that it’s too early to be called in for dinner, lunch just finished. The confusion that gives way to panic as he travels through a crowd of older hybrids. He almost runs into one of the cat hybrids as she leaves the kitchen. Shouting back to her friend that’s fussing with something. “Just turn off the stove- something’s wrong we need to go.”

- Yoongi snatches the book from your small office off the living room and thunders back down the porch steps, pausing when he sees it. Anyone else might not have noticed the difference- or noticed it at all. But Yoongi used to survive by noticing the small day-to-day differences in his world; and it’s a habit that hasn’t died even though Yoongi no longer needs it to survive.

- There is a piece of paper stuck behind your windshield wipers on your car. Not a ticket and not a note- but a business card. And Yoongi knows it wasn’t there yesterday.

- Yoongi pauses, your phone in one hand, and the logbook in another. He shoves your phone in his pocket and wastes precious seconds to retrieve it. It’s simple- just plain cardstock a single sentence on the other side. “You’re welcome” there isn’t any signature beside a small doodled bunny rabbit. 

- Yoongi knows that signature. Memories dredge up from the bottom of his mind like a swell of cold water washing over him. He’d seen his old owner- (his current owner- his own internal monologue berates him) go into a rage after seeing that same moniker spray-painted across her truck or buildings on more than one occasion.

- Yoongi rolls his tongue over his teeth, putting it together. His owner’s words- dimly alluding to a second mole at the farm- warning Yoongi to be careful. And now this- a thank you card from a rival gang. Chaos whirls around him as different groups run to the barns. He hears Taehyung’s raised voice “Everyone quiet! I need you to listen to me- please!” 

- Other hushed words echo from the field as Yoongi puts it together. In a moment, Yoongi knows what’s happened- but he can’t for the life of him understand the motivation.

- What motivation could his owner’s rival have to kill their mole? And if he knew who at the farm was connected to the gang life- why didn’t he kill Yoongi last night too? This body and this note raise too many questions.

- Yoongi doesn’t think it through, just shoves the card into the bottom of his work boot, hiding it so that it lies flat under his sock. Knowing it's better to hide it then hand it over to the police. Yoongi’s hands shake with the very idea of you being caught up in this mess. Although it looks like it's already too late for that. How much less involved can you be with a dead body on your front doorstep?

- If the note is addressed to you? How much do you know about your late husband's business- if anything?

- You attribute Yoongi’s shakiness to the dead body you’re deceptively calm- nausea set aside when he gets back. yoongi nearly runs into taehyung on the way down the hill. Anger an annoyance and worry rolling off the bear hybrid in heady waves. “Don’t worry- Jimin and I have nearly everyone in the barns already, and Daehyun and Hoseok are taking care of the cubs on the other side of the field” 

- Taehyung barely looks at Yoongi as he passes, shouting at you over his shoulder. It helps to hear that Jimin is all right, but Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll believe it until he sees the other hybrid with his own two eyes. Namjoon looks much the same. Though he holds your hand tight as he can.

- You call the police the second Yoongi hands over your phone. And together- you wait for them. Namjoon sends an anxious glance both of your ways. It doesn’t take long before you can hear the sirens heading in your direction, echoing out over the empty hills.

- Back up at the barns, Jimin sits on the second floor, the windows are opened to their full capacity to let in a nonexistent breeze. The top floor of the barn isn’t really the most comfortable place to be in the middle of the day, the heat muggy, and all-encompassing. But every dog hybrid is in their bunk room. but it’s too hot to be comfortable regardless of the fans running at full power. Jimin sits on the floor dangling his feet over the side.

- Below- Jimin watches Taehyung as he does a headcount. Clipboard in hand, shouting names and waiting for people to respond. the hybrids have separated themselves by type, bunny hybrids on the outer edge, bear hybrids close to the center around Tae, Cat hybrids on the ground floor to stay out of the sun. Jimin and dog hybrids- the most easily riled up and hardest to contain because of their energy- on the top floor where they’d all stay put and not sneak off. 

- Jimin’s room has already been counted, there isn’t much left to do but wait and watch. If he looks over the hillock he can see the police cars and you. The flashing blue and red lights and a small group.

- A small crowd has gathered to watch and linger, police tape set up to the entrance of your farm. A few of your neighbors gathered too at the sound and small-town gossip is sure to follow. Your two closest neighbors- an elderly couple come over to ask you a few questions about all the commotion. They’ve never been unpleasant to you or hostile, still happy that you took their farm animals off their hands many months ago. But they remain firmly separated from your hybrids on either side of a circle of crime scene tape.

- When Jimin looks to the other side, he can see Hoseok and another dog hybrid with the children. Sequestered them with a bunch of games and ice pops on the other side of the hill, away from any and all possibility of them seeing something they shouldn’t.

- Even some of your hybrids linger around the crime scene. the leaders of various groups that need to see for themselves. Beomgyu is here too as well- even though you gave him a look that said you dont need to see this. As it is, you give the teenagers that refuse to go a questioning cross look. Yeonjun in particular just shrugs at you when you give him an expectant look. All of the teenaged hybrids are particularly used to your no-nonsense looks. It doesn’t help that he’s several inches taller than you. 

- “You really think this is the first time I’ve seen a dead body?” one of the other cat hybrids has the good sense to cuff him over the back of his head for that one. You know he’s young, but some respect for life and death is something he’ll have to learn at one point or another. If he wants to stay that bad- you’ll let him. 

- Namjoon might hate the police, but he does speak their language, and it’s easy for you to sink to his side and rely on him to take over the story as you relate everything you know (which isn’t much). The pack leaders- or what would be the pack leaders all waiting on the fringes. Taehyung comes back to tell you that there isn’t anyone but a few bunny hybrids missing- quickly sniffed out by one of the dog hybrids, all of them looking a little pink-cheeked and embarrassed from whatever they were doing.

- That gets a few laughs out of everyone that’s gathered- Taehyung shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but tempers still remain raised. From the top story of the barn, Jimin watches it unfold. Taehyung shoots him a tired look.

- A quick look at your ledger shows that the last time the hybrid left was just a little over a week ago. Your fingers hover over the date. The book is photographed by the crime scene photographers too, the camera bulbs flashing, a few of your more sensitive hybrids have to turn away- the bright flash too glaring. The officers take little notice of their discomfort.

- They tell you that they might come back to collect it for official evidence. It’s nice to have something to give the police to show them that the hybrid wasn’t in your care when he died. You have a good reputation with them because of your ex-husband as much as you hate to admit it. And it’s jarring to hear you referred to as his widow, especially with Namjoon standing so close, a protective presence between you and the police. 

- A few months ago you might have started breaking down when you heard his name, but all you have to do is look at Namjoon to know that you’re okay, you’re both safe. 

- Well maybe not now- if you have a killer in your midst then you’re all certainly not as safe as you thought.

- For all the feaux concern they have about the dead hybrid- the ones around you might as well be window dressing. They would have ignored Namjoon entirely if he hadn’t introduced himself as an ex-police hybrid.

- It’s more than that, their unconcern sinks under your skin and makes you want to shout at them as they take his body away in a black body bag. They promise you they’ll try to find whatever killed him. They don’t look too bothered- another dead hybrid isn’t anything new or a cause for panic to them, about as regular as finding any other pet- and not a fucking human being- dead or murdered.

- The police tell you they’ll do what they can- but a dead hybrid is hardly their priority, even if it makes a growl build in Namjoon’s throat when they brush off your concern. Your blood boils. 

- But as the sequestering drags on and on into the afternoon- and the temperature increases with every moment everyone still has to stay put. the idle chatter quickly turns agitated. In the main barn- A few of them have been playing cards on and off, most of them in states of undress because of the heat. Jimin is the only man still wearing his shirt, though it’s only his tank top.

- “What the fuck do you think it is? Who do you think killed them?” Jimin listens in on the other hybrid's conversation against his own violation. He’s never been close to the other dog hybrids at the farm save for Namjoon, and he’s not about to start right now. They laugh, but it sounds more like a bark- or a hyena chuckle, “you know me- if there’s an issue my money's always on the snake,”

- Jimin’s head whips around, “Excuse me?” the hybrids turn to him, “oh Jimin- we forgot we were here” if they want that insult to sting- they’re going to have to try a little harder. Jimin was used to being forgotten for the first half of his life, and that won’t start hurting now.

- Sweat drips down the back of Jimin’s neck, “he has a name you know,” he says with no real venom. it’s greeted with resounding scoffs from a few of his bunkmates. He lets the silence sit for a moment before the weight of it grows too oppressive for him to handle, “What?” he says feeling like he’s missing something. The rest of the hybrids in the bunk room fall quiet.

- The dog hybrid- Taeyong- Jimin’s brain reminds him, snickers. “Nothing- just- figures you’d be possessive of him after yesterday.” A flush of heat hits Jimin’s cheeks that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Someone must have seen Yoongi leave the showers and then seen Jimin leave a short minute later looking sex dazed. He knows the meeting had left his scent all smelling like honey arousal. They must have put two and two together.

- Damn those bunny hybrids with their sensitive noses. Now that Jimin thinks about it- Taeyong is a friend of one of them- a small little rabbit called Jihan.

- Jimin shrugs it off because fuck them- he is protective of Yoongi and this conversation only shows the reason for that. But they don’t leave it at that- not at all. Taeyong taps his foot against the floor, grinning and showing the edge of a sharp incisor “Being with him will only end you in an early grave you know, but you might as well keep your head down and enjoy your one-way ticket to living up at the big house.” 

- “That’s not why I’m- we’re not-“ he doesn’t know what to say, he can’t say that he’s with Yoongi- not officially, not yet. And though there is something with them. Jimin doesn’t know how to put a name to it. let alone how to put a name to what he has with all of you. 

- There must be something written on his face, because the hybrid sits back, satisfied that he’s hit Jimin with something that can stick. The other hybrids snicker. A fair few turn away- sensing the fight that’s about to develop, content to stay out of it.

- “You know he doesn’t deserve to be up at the big house right,” Jimin can’t stop himself from getting angry at the calloused way they talk about Yoongi. His temper rising with the heat, Jimin has never been good at holding his tongue, and maybe it’s his fault that things happen the way they do. Jimin rises, and so does Taeyong, Suddenly chest to chest, “well if he doesn’t deserve it- you certainly don’t, maybe if you guys were just kind for once in your life you’d be staying up there too.” Jimin barks.

- A few other hybrids blanch, and more turn away, Jimin’s misspoke- can judge by the silence that he’s the one being judged. “And I actually happen to enjoy their company- I’m not-”

- Jimin knows what he’s just insinuated, that being loved is just a correlation of being kind and pleasant to be around. (You’ve been talking through that particular thing with him. The fawn response to abuse. And Jimin knows he should unpack that later, but like many other things- it just slips out. His post-traumatic stress disorder makes him think things he knows are wrong. He doesn’t believe the words he says, not really.)

- Taeyong steps forwards, and Jimin shrinks back sudden bravery forgotten. “You’re not what? Being a manipulative little puppy? Batting your eyes at them so that you could get a spot? Go tell that lie to someone who believes you. You might be a puppy, but you’re a snake to your core.” 

- Jimin has never wanted Taehyung to be there more than now. Where is he when he needs him? Jimin looks back through the open window, but Taehyung isn’t below them on the patio. Their fight seems to have gotten more than a little attention. Wide eyes upturned, startled by the sound of raised voices. It's the wrong moment to look away because suddenly Jimin’s reeling from a shove, two hands on either shoulder. 

- Jimin catches himself on the window frame. The open space taunting and frightening. All at once, the image hits him; another well-placed shove- Jimin falling- cracking against the slate patio outside where you usually set up dinner, the ground hard and unforgiving. Bones breaking. 

- Jimin isn’t sure why he says it; “No wonder why you haven’t got adopted if this is how you act when someone disagrees with you.”

- Jimin’s never fallen from any height before. But he’s been tossed and pushed and shoved, and never learned how to fight back. He freezes now at the memory of it. He’s been shoved into concrete before, and he bets slate hurts just as much.

- “Don’t pretend like you haven’t had your eyes set on the big house since you first got here puppy, little thing like you probably just wants to be owned- how do you even have an ounce of self-“ 

- Jimin gets shoved again, and he barely manages to hold his ground. Taeyong grips his shirt in both his fists, lifting Jimin up so that he struggles to keep his feet on the ground. 

- From below, he hears a shriek, His name shouted from your mouth. You run as fast as you can, Yoongi stayed behind to help you. His face turned up imploring at Jimin. Jimin hears the thud of Namjoon’s feet on the wooden floor below. He and Taehyung, as they take the stairs two at a time. Jimin doesn’t know how they knew to come, or how suddenly everything’s escalated.

- The other hybrid steps forward, and there is nowhere left for him to go, Jimin grips the window frame, and tries not to let go.

- Namjoon’s words can barely be made out around the growl, suddenly in the doorway. Jimin keeps his eyes on the hybrid in front of him. Not at Namjoon’s face, screwed tight with anger. “Enough, step away from him.”

- Namjoon looks more threatening than Jimin’s ever seen him, teeth bared, ready to attack. His curved ears quivering as Namjoon seems to swell in the doorway, his eyes shiny and reflective in the half-light. An alpha ready to protect his own. The scars that crisscross his face a reminder of the lengths he’s willing to go to protect his family.

- A sheepish looking Taehyung toes the line behind him, “I’m sorry- I heard the beginning outside the door and went to get them” Jimin is at once thankful for Taehyung and a little angry- because really? He couldn’t be bothered to just intervene then? Taeyong seems to think for a moment before he lets Jimin go. Jimin sees Namjoon’s hands tighten into fists by his side. The threat of what he might have tried to do dissipating. You rush forward with Yoongi, pulling Jimin out of the doorway.

- More than one hybrid in the room jerks when you get too close to the window. They can’t help it- for many of them, you’re the only human they’ve had a positive relationship with. And the dog hybrids are nothing if not a loyal bunch. Which is probably why Taeyong shrinks back, nostrils flared- still angry and feeling threatened. like a cornered animal. 

- Jimin tries not to run back to Namjoon’s side- but it's hard, especially when he makes eye contact with Yoongi. Your chest heaving blinking away tears as You pull Jimin to you easily, a hand on his cheek. Eyes so worried, searching his face and his frame for even a hint of damage. The words are out of his mouth before he even has a chance “I’m okay- it’s okay- I’m fine.”

- “It wasn’t my fault, Jimin started it” you look up, and Jimin can tell from the tilt of your eyes that you don’t believe them for a second, your voice is shaky when you speak, so quiet. and jimin wonders- how many other times you’d spoken up like this in your past against your ex-husband and gotten hurt for it. It takes no small amount of bravery for you to speak now and Jimin’s arms tighten protectively around you. 

- “This isn’t- this isn’t how you treat another person Taeyong even if he did start it- you don’t react with violence.” one of the other hybrids shakes his head at Taeyong- but he doesn't react well to your words. Bearing his teeth at you and it takes every ounce of self-control for your three hybrids not to jump in front of you at such an obvious display of aggression. 

- “He shoved me first” Taeyong lies, and Namjoon answers it with a growl. stepping up to go chest to chest with him in much the same way that Jimin had just minutes before. The other dog hybrid crumbles against the alphas stare. “Would you like to repeat that? or do you maybe want to tell the truth this time?”

- You pull Jimin behind you and Namjoon steps between you and the other hybrids, looming and large in the small space. “If I hear that you're causing any more trouble you’ll be out on your ass faster than you can say “it wasn’t my fault” Namjoon barks, turns, both you and he have a hand on Jimin’s trembling shoulders. When did they start shaking?

- A sudden hush has settled over the hybrids, everyone is here to witness it. And it doesn’t make sense until they hear a set of quiet footsteps at the door. “Is everything alright miss?” the police officer says in the doorway, suspiciously eyeing the hybrids. His hand hovering dangerously close to the gun in his holster. The fucking police- Jimin had almost forgotten they were here.

- You don’t look shaken, stepping back to be between him and your hybrids, and the police officers' shoulders relax. You’re so disarming- Jimin barely sees you shake even though he can smell the distress rolling off of you in waves. Turning your usual scent all muddy. Your smile is strained, “No officer- everyone’s just a little bit high strung right now I think. We’re fine.” 

- “Sorry for that distraction, we can continue up to the main house if you’d like. After you.” You set back off down the steps and Jimin knows what you’re doing- keeping the police officer away from them because you know how twitchy the cops make most of the hybrids. “No thank you- I dont think that will be necessary. As your k-9 unit specified earlier in his interview the crime scene is mostly contained in the driveway. I think we’ve seen enough.”

- Jimin can’t help but stumble to Namjoon’s side, pressed tight under the arm of his alpha. Namjoon’s disarmed by Jimin's sudden need for affection; for his alpha all around him. “We’ll talk about this later” Taehyung glowers at the other hybrids and they all fall silent. Namjoon’s ire- they might be a little more used to but Taehyung’s anger is used a little more sparingly. The four of them, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung the unlikely fourth turn to leave.

- You’re already in the lower level of the barn when Taeyong speaks, his voice low to keep it out of earshot from you. “Sure thing pet,” Taeyong says under his breath- though really what was he trying to do? Everyone here had above average hearing- so really, his whispered insults whereas good as speaking at normal volume.

- And to a hybrid- being called a pet is the ultimate insult.

- Namjoon freezes in the doorway, no matter that Jimin’s hand pulls at the arm of his long-sleeved shirt. A whine building for him to just leave it alone. Namjoon turns, jabbing his finger at Taeyong. “I want you gone before sundown tomorrow.” 

- The four of them head down the stairs, leaving the silent room. The ground floor of the largest barn the area is flush with activity. With hybrids going every which way you must have decided that it was okay for everyone to return to their days as normal. Someone calls Taehyung’s name, asking for his help with something before he’s even fully down the narrow steps, Taehyung sends Jimin a single discerning look before he leaves. Namjoon utters a soft thank you to him as he slips away.

- In the grass- you share one final word with the police officer, shaking his hand with one hand resting on your baby bump. Though Jimin can tell from the way you hold yourself it's the last thing you want to do. He nods at Namjoon once as they approach and heads off down the hill. You’re quiet for a moment, going to hold jimin’s hand while Namjoon and Yoongi mill. None of you are sure what to do next.

- “I’m assuming Taeyong won’t be a problem anymore?” Namjoon has the good sense to look a little abashed at that. “He said- there was- he’ll be gone by tomorrow afternoon.” Is all he says, and you nod, giving a sad look back to the barns. But you don’t counter what Namjoon’s said.

- And while Jimin knows there needs to be some sort of order here- it still seems a little extreme. Even if the threat of bodily harm was there- he didn’t actually do anything. It seems a little severe to throw them out for just a couple of words, and a shove. He tells Namjoon this much as they walk up the footpath to the main house.

- You whip your head around, looking stricken, and Jimin have to struggle not to flinch back, you look almost angry with yourself for the sudden movement. all of you are a little on edge. “He almost hurt you Jimin! he was about to-“ Yoongi fists a hand in the back of Jimin’s shirt, “if he’d hurt you I don’t know what I’d-“ you break off, and Jimin sees you sigh and the breath sounds all rickety like there's something else rattling around in your lungs. You shake your head and hold onto his hand tighter.

- Jimin sucks on his lower lip and keeps walking towards the main house after a moment. And he can’t help feeling like he was the one who kind of did start it. A hand on your arm to help you up the steps. You’re getting more and more pregnant every day, and your baby bump has become more of a mound than the small bulge you had when Jimin first came.

- Jimin just wants to make sure you don’t wobble or trip. Unable to shake the feeling that the reason why Namjoon had punished the others was because of how they’d treated Jimin- and not because of any rules.

- Jimin’s gotten to know you and Namjoon pretty well over the last few months, but the way Namjoon keeps his head down, playing with his hands, makes him look younger and more open than he’s ever been around Jimin. Namjoon and Jimin linger just inside your house. standing quietly- letting their tempers fade.  

- The cat hybrids have already started dinner, the clamor familiar and comforting. One of them hears you come in and calls your name; Yoongi is close behind, he doesn’t look at Jimin. And Jimin smells his scent- his fluffy marshmallow goodness twined with a hint of something burn and feels the guilt clinging to him like bad perfume. He’s about to head after him when Namjoon grabs his shoulder. “Should I- you’re going to stay up here right?”

- Jimin sucks on his lower lip. and even he has to admit that staying up here tonight is a more attractive offer than returning to the barns anytime soon. “Yes- if you want me too” Namjoon nods, looks shy, but Jimin can tell what he’s feeling through his scent. The worry makes the pine strong and musky and tempts Jimin to curl up in it. Namjoon couldn’t tolerate being separated from any of his pack right now; not with the danger of a killer on the loose. Namjoon tugs him in the direction of the stairs. “There’s something I want to show you then.”

- The last time he’d been up on the more private floor of your house he hadn’t really had any time to explore. Namjoon leads him to one of the unknown and previously unopened doors that line the long hallway between your master suite and the stairs, pointing out Yoongi’s room as they go. The room is small and more than a little dusty. But it’s the closest unoccupied room to the master suite and across the hall from Yoongi’s. “Oh” Jimin realizes as it clicks, “you meant stay- as in move in stay.”

- Namjoon has to kick away boxes of Christmas decorations to get to the queen covered with a white sheet that fluffs with dust when he pulls away. Jimin touches the edge softly. He’s never had a bed so big all to himself before- he doesn’t know how he’s going to handle so much vacant space next to him.

- There will be no soft sounds of sleep and rising chests when Jimin wakes in the middle of the night. Only the sounds of the house, and even though this means he’ll get to spend more time with you, Namjoon, and Yoongi, the room can’t help but feel lonely. Something in his chest reminds him that he’s not really that far, Yoongi’s room is across the hall, and yours just a few steps after that.

- Maybe he won’t feel so lonely after all.

- The windows are covered with thick drapes, kind of small in themselves. And it makes the room feel darker and cold. “We’ll move out the decorations to the attic tomorrow, are you gonna be okay with this for tonight? We can get you some fresh sheets and blankets.”

-  Jimin nods hands tugging back the curtains to let more light in. Namjoon reaches around him to crack it open when the window sticks. Even though this room doesn’t feel like his yet. Namjoon almost drops a box of decorations “you could also sleep in our room if you want?”

- Jimin can’t do much more than just blush and nod, stuttering out that he’ll decide later. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to be all snuggled close between you and Namjoon it’s just that- things are happening a little too fast. Jimin feels like he might need a night to just decompress.

- The body, the police, the fight, and Jimin almost falling through the window. For some reason, Jimin feels paralyzed in that doorway. On one hand, he’s happy that he has a room here now that he doesn’t have to go back to the bunk room for more than his clothes, and on the other hand he’s sure he doesn’t deserve it.

- Like Namjoon can sense he’s overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to feel, he pulls Jimin to follow him. Gentle orders that tell Jimin what to do with his body and give his mind a second to catch up. Namjoon retrieves fresh linens and a big fluffy blanket from the closet while Jimin hovers hugging a pillow to his chest. 

- The elder prattles along to Jimin about getting him some more things to fill the room like a dresser when Jimin notices it. A small narrow door that’s mostly glass down the hall from your master bedroom and the bathroom that Jimin assumes he’ll share with Yoongi.

- Unless Yoongi has a bathroom in his room. Jimin asks Namjoon- who tells Jimin that he does and Jimin pouts. He has to admit he wouldn’t mind Sharing a bathroom with Yoongi. Flashbacks of that night, of Yoongi’s skin, pressed close to his underneath the deluge of water- consume him for a moment at the thought of that. 

- Before he pads over to see the other room at the end of the hallway. It’s narrow, only the with of the couch at the end and twice as long, Jimin could probably touch both walls if he lied down on the floor Waist height windows ring the outside of the room and a few skylights cast square shadows on the floor, The roof slanted down at one edge.

- A single potted plant sits on the waist-high shelf- crusty and brown from no one watering it. He orients himself in the house to figure out what room is below him but the smells and sounds drifting up from the floor tells him he’s somewhere above the kitchens.

- He stands in the doorway. A thick layer of dust sits on everything. But the light is amazing. All golden in the afternoon haze though that might just be the walls. The light yellow paint is faded, cracked a bit by the doorway but it's nothing a fresh coat couldn’t fix.

- Jimin knows the second he sees it that he wants it.

- Namjoon finds him standing in the doorway. Already looking out the windows- he can see the gardens from here and the woods that stretch beyond. And the edge of a falling-down barn yet to be restored by you and Namjoon- and a tiny sliver of the river. “What- what is this?” Jimin’s voice is so hushed. So quiet, like he’s worried about disturbing the dust.

- Namjoon comes up close behind him, putting his arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “It’s a sunroom.” Namjoon clarifies. In the afternoon light, Namjoon’s skin looks honeyed and golden, horizontal shafts of light stretching across his face. Namjoon pulls Jimin close, nose running along his hairline and near his ears, nuzzling into them. His back the perfect place for Jimin to rest his heavy shoulders. 

- “Is it okay if I- can I stay here and not the other room?” Namjoon’s smile is reassuring and gentle, “probably, but let's ask.” Of course, Namjoon would know Jimin needed explicit permission right now- needs the sureness of a yes or no from you.

- The sight that awaits Namjoon and Jimin in the living room is one that warms both of their hearts. You and Yoongi sitting side by side in front of the television. you’re listing into Yoongi sleepily head on his shoulder. Your eyes fluttering against your cheek adorably. Yoongi sends Namjoon a panicked look which means “please save me from her she’s being needy” but at least Yoongi isn’t shaking and going all panicky.

- With a word from Namjoon you wake, sitting up straight and yawning, taking in Jimin hovering on the steps, your smile sleepy and a little dopy. Your eyes still half-closed still looking soft and an inch from resting as you need.

- Namjoon’s hand rubs up and down your swollen exposed ankle. His voice honeyed like he doesn’t really want to wake you up. Hell Jimin would carry you up the stairs to let you rest in your own bed and not the couch even though it's barely 5 pm. It's been a long day for all of you. 

- “Hey, can Jimin take the sunroom instead of the other room?” Yoongi gives a little surprised noise, eyebrows lifting in question, you seem to share his confusion. Jimin realizes that you must have already talked about which room would be his, and whole new warmth floods him. “Are you sure? That room’s a little small.”

- “I’d like to stay in there if you’ll let me- I mean- I can go back to the barns too” maybe he’d go to the girl side this time- he’s sure they wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the male hybrids. Namjoon and Yoongi look upset that he’d even try to suggest that. “Take the sunroom Jiminie,” you say, Namjoon and Jimin watch as Yoongi’s hands shake when he reaches forward before he slowly draws his hands through your hair, and you arch into he touch. If you were a hybrid Jimin thinks you’d be purring.

- Namjoon does actually end up carrying you upstairs, despite your protests that you could do it yourself. Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Jimin finishes it for him saying, “we’ll make dinner, you should rest.” Namjoon pauses on the lower step with you in his arms, and Jimin feels something in him settle. There isn’t a little bit of you that doesn’t want him to stay here, the way you so easily give up space for Jimin to be accepted into your routine- your home.

- It’s good; it feels good to knock shoulders with Yoongi in the kitchen, the craziness of the day calmed as the cat hybrids bring the food down to the barns for everyone. 

- Taehyung stops by briefly to have a word with Namjoon- telling the elder that they have a rotating watch figured out for tonight to make sure nothing else happens. Taehyung empties out with the other cats, leaving just Jimin and Yoongi. It’s harder than it should be, but Yoongi instructs Jimin on how to do the chopping with a careful and slow demonstration while he starts on the stew.

- When Namjoon reappears a few minutes later he puts on the radio- switching it to something a little bit more his style, not kitschy pop or idealistic  questionable country music, though Jimin doesn’t like it at first listen, he hears Yoongi humming along and figures- it’s enough to have them enjoy it. Especially to see Namjoon try and fail to shake his ass. 

- The night gets even better when Jimin goes to get you from your bed, calling your name so you wake up with barely a huff as you blink at him. You look so soft Jimin can’t resist it, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your forehead. 

- You eat dinner on the porch, and the night gets better with every moment. every second Jimin realizes that he always should have been here. The love filling Jimin up just like the fresh bread and Yoongi’s stew, Namjoon and Jimin go inside halfway through the dinner to get blankets for you and Yoongi.

- Dinner reinvigorates you four, and though Jimin protests “I can just sleep in the other room tonight it’s really not a big deal” Namjoon and Yoongi shake their heads at him, though you're left out since you really can’t lift anything. 

- After dinner Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin pull down the attic stairs from the hallway, and go up to the third floor to find a bed that will fit in the sunroom. You shout and pull yoongi out of the way when Namjoon and Jimin lose their grip and the soft mattress clangs down the stairs, sliding with a soft thump. They’re more careful with the box spring.

- They shout and huff with joyful frustration when the couch gets stuck in the doorway of the sunroom. The kind of happiness that comes with a problem that you can fix- and like who you fix it with. And finally, when you fit the double bed into the space it just barely fits. You set the bed up with pillows and sheets asking Jimin again and again if he really doesn’t mind just the single bed while Namjoon and Yoongi put the green velvet couch outside in the hallway nook, just across from the bathroom.

- The first morning Jimin wakes in the sunroom is the most peaceful morning he’s ever gotten. The light comes in so early that it’s hard for him to sleep past sunrise. From all the way up here, he can see the way that the dew on the grass makes the whole field sway and sparkle like the ocean. He taps his toes against the wall as he sits up and looks out, and hears a knock at his door. A soft rap on the glass. 

- The sounds he hears below say he’s not the only one awake in the house. And still, the sight of you in your extra-large sleeping clothes and your robe makes him surprised. Though the tangled mess of your hair says you’re barely awake. Jimin slept so well that his ears hang nearly in front of his eyes, soft little floppy things that you push out of the way, Pushing back his wild hair as you do it. You have two cups of hot coffee in your hands. One, which you sit on the shelf that rings the room, and the other that you press into his hands, the warm ceramic a welcomed weight.

- Jimin helps you sit, a hand on your lower back to ease the ache. Without really thinking he guides you to sit back against his chest. It’s quiet and it’s lovely. And Jimin trails his nose down your shoulder and holds you loosely around your waist. “I forgot how nice this room is.” You say after your cup is halfway gone, Jimin’s cheek rested against your shoulder.

- “It’s so bright- I love it.” when Jimin closes his eyes he can still see the dark garage where he used to sleep- was it barely 4 months ago? Is he okay now? Is it okay to hope? Can he really count on things to be okay? To count that they won’t get bad again?

- With you in his arms, Jimin feels like it’s okay to hope for more good things.

- It feels like the right time to say it, the light spilling into the little yellow room, his tail thumping against the bed. The soft comforter that you picked out for him last night encircling you both like a halo. 

- The words are gentle, and they’re the truest Jimin’s ever said, “I love you” you smile over the edge of your coffee cup, lips soft and pink like two bright petals, happy little flowers like happy moments blooming with frequency. Every soft thing that Jimin’s ever wanted or dreamed of. Every way you could love a person- that's the way that Jimin loves you. And it feels like an unbreakable promise when you smile up at him. “I love you too Minnie.”

- And that’s how it happens. He says it again over breakfast and Namjoon barely lifts his eyebrows in wonder. But his tail betrays his attention, His tail kicking up a happy rhythm. Now that he’s said it- he feels like he doesn’t want to stop. 

- Yoongi pays the revelation a little more attention, making prolonged eye contact with jimin and stumbling around the kitchen half asleep like usual. But isn’t Yoongi the one who had taught Jimin how to love like this? That love is not really about saying it- but showing it. Yoongi- who he’s still never heard speak. and Somehow it doesn’t bother Jimin as much anymore.

- The next morning goes much like that- as does the next and the next. You spend the late nights all cuddled up together on the couches watching movies or sometimes you’ll retire to your small study room on the first floor to do some work- typing away on your computer. Calculating monthly costs, balancing your budget, submitting your paperwork on time to get funding from the state- the endless budgeting.

- Sometimes Yoongi helps, and you dictate numbers while he adds them up. Namjoon and Jimin sit on opposite ends of the couch, Jimin’s feet in Namjoon’s lap. And Jimin gets to watch the way Namjoon looks at you and Yoongi. “You really love them don’t you?” Jimin asks, worried about sounding jealous, but how could he really be jealous of that? Namjoon’s dimples are the most beautiful thing- Namjoon is the most beautiful thing when he’s happy. He nods shyly on the other edge of the couch. “Yes, so come here.”

- The aborted whine that tones out is enough to grab Yoongi’s attention when Namjoon clutches Jimin to his chest. The snake hybrid’s head appearing over the edge of the couch. The huffing sound that all of you associate with Yoongi’s laugh makes Jimin blush as Namjoon curls a strong arm around his waist. A deep rumbling in his chest similar to a purr as Jimin settles there. He can hear Namjoon’s heartbeat and ends up falling asleep to it.  

- Other evenings you’ll make smoothies with them or root beer floats, teasing Yoongi for the foam on his upper lip. Jimin finds himself sinking into this easy happiness. Now when he wakes up in the morning. He doesn’t have the ire of the others to contend with. Though he makes sure to keep up his friendships. 

- he follows Taehyung around more often now that he sees the four of you every waking moment. Taehyung and Jimin spend a few days together helping Seokjin and Hoseok clean out one of the unused barns together.

- He comes upon the two of them; that is Hoseok and Seokjin, sitting in the grass one day. The older hybrids hand laced in Hoseok’s curly hair. Taehyung murmurs to Jimin that they should just make it official already.

- He’d caught Hoseok sneaking out of the barns to head to Seokjin’s room more than once when he still lived in with the others. Since Seokjin is the only hybrid besides your little group that doesn’t stay in one of the main barns. And there were only so many places that Hoseok could be trying to go at that hour.

- They do make it official - though it takes a few days.

- It was early morning- just after breakfast and the three of you’d been buzzing with happy energy, Namjoon already half of the way out the door. Almost crashing into them where they’d waited unsure on your porch. “oh! Jin hyung! Hobi hyung!”

- Your morning plans for the usual gardening had been put on pause, Seokjin and Hoseok sitting hand in hand at the prep table while your hybrids try not to listen in. Namjoon doesn’t even bother - just stands behind you and rubs your shoulders while you listen. Their hands bound over the top of the table.

- “We’d do all of the work ourselves, and you know I wouldn’t ask you for any money for it- we want to do it on our own” Jin smiles, and you’ve never seen such a gently happy expression on his face. Next to him- the otter sits closer. Looking up at Jin like there isn’t anything more precious than he could hold in his hands. And while their love hadn’t completely escaped your notice- this is still a surprise.

- Seokjin makes a fair amount of money selling his yarns and other knitted goods from the alpacas and the sheep. You’d always been firm that he should keep the money he makes from it for himself and not give it to you to put into the farm. The same way you let the bear hybrids keep the money they make from harvesting the honey. You don’t own them- they’re their own people.

- One of the first things that Seokjin had bought with his money was a cellphone, and he and Hoseok excitedly show you ideas for tiny homes on Pinterest, boards of colorful little new England style cabins, loft beds, and micro-fridges. “We already have one in mind- you know the little cabin by the river?”

- Namjoon pipes up “you mean the old chicken coop? We can build you something nicer- the roof of that one is shot though- you’ll need an extra hand,” you look at their plans, careful doodles, and color swatches, nodding. “we’ll help you, of course, we’ll help you both.”

- And that’s how Seokjin and Hoseok had started work on their home. A separate place away from the rest of the farm for just the two of them to get some privacy. Though it's still on your property; neither of them has any sort of desire to ever leave the farm or each other now that they’ve found their mate.

- The house isn’t more than 200 square feet. And the roof does need a fair bit of work. But it’s not just a chicken coop like Namjoon had said, it’s got nice bones and a good foundation. It’s close enough to the animal barns where Seokjin will still be able to check on the animals every morning, but closer to the river.

- You don’t realize the significance of this until you’re helping them one day, Namjoon, Yoongi making quick work of some loose floorboards and the one wall that needs to be replaced. While Jimin and hoseok watch on- deemed a little too clumsy to help with some of the work. They look for wood-burning stoves on craigslist and other things that they’ll need to make the house complete. 

- Seokjin takes a moment, coming to your side to get some of your offered lemonade, his hair tied back with a bandana. Sipping at it as he looks at Hoseok and Jimin. their feet dangling over the edge of the streambed. “He finds it calming- he can’t sleep without the ocean. That’s how I first noticed him- I caught him sneaking out one night just to listen to the running water.” Seokjin had confessed to you, watching Jimin and hoseok giggle at paint names as they flip through a color swatch book. A far cry away from how they’d once been. 

- This little cabin is certainly close enough, a mere ten feet from the shore of the stream. And with all the windows open you can hear the babbling brook and the sound of the birds in the forest. Before they retire to Seokjin’s room above the stables. Both Hoseok and Seokjin stand in the cabin, taking their shoes off to feel the floor below them and think- this is it- this is our home. Holding each other close while they listen. Even if it will take another few months to get it truly in livable condition- to set the walls with insulation and electricity. This will be their home.

- But first, they cleaned it out. The whole bottom floor filled with dusty jam jars and weird bottles that Seokjin thinks must have been for moonshine. The next day- Jimin finds a few of the glass bottles have made the way into his new room. As Namjoon struggles to put together his new dresser, and Yoongi takes It over after Namjoon lets out his 5th frustrated sigh. They’re cleaned and polished, a small little rainbow of glass, filled with water and flowers that you pick with Jimin. 

- Every morning you bring him coffee in his room. And it slowly progresses from there, sometimes you just leave it and let him sleep. Other mornings. Jimin gets to wake up with you in his arms. Watching him or cuddling him close. He Wakes to a press of lips against his forehead and your hands in his hair. 

- His body always knows before he wakes. He’ll wake to find himself nuzzled close, or pulling you closer with greedy hands. He feels greedy with you now that he can have you every morning, though Namjoon gets the evenings. 

- And when he falls asleep at night his sheets smell like you, like peaches and cream. And then one morning he wakes pressed chest to chest with you. Your baby bump taking up significant space on Jimin’s tiny bed. And without thinking, He tilts his face forward. Kissing you softly and simply. Pulling away, whispering good morning. The pink in your cheeks says you’re shocked, but you pick up like it’s nothing The same way you took his confession.

- Kissing you is nothing like kissing Yoongi- at least not at first. It starts slow- just the simple press of softness against softness, lip to lip, and breath to breath. Until Jimin gets the hot feeling in his mouth and both of you open your lips and start to get a little lost in each other.

- The kind of kiss that makes Jimin want to reach out and hold onto you and never ever let you leave this bed. The kind of kiss that takes both of you apart gently and slowly and so carefully. Has him growing hard in his pants more than once. But you’re both shy- both so scared of pushing this any farther before the timing is right.

- Sometimes, Jimin will wake to you in his bed and Namjoon smiling softly at both of you from the door. “You know- you could always just sleep in our bed.” and Jimin knows that Namjoon might be just the tiniest bit jealous. Jimin has been stealing you away in the mornings after all- and it must be hard for him not to snuggle his mate every goddamn day especially with how soft and needy you smell. It’s so hard to leave the bed some days.

- There are more kisses after that before you go up to bed at night. Yoongi and Namjoon stretched out on the couch, Namjoon prattling on about how inaccurate a movie is while Yoongi indulges him and nods along. You kiss Jimin on the steps, winding your arms around his neck so sweetly, Yoongi wolf whistles and Namjoon chortles, “get a room!”

- But when Jimin looks over Namjoon just winks at him, and keeps talking. Like it’s nothing to kiss you so sweetly and normal to do it in front of them. There are no secrets between the four of you. Maybe there are things that are left unsaid and uncommunicated- but there are no secrets. 

- And that’s how Jimin first starts to fall into you. Easy and simple, like kisses and coffee in the morning. And Jimin loves everyone. Loves you so much sometimes it feels like his heart is going to break with it all.

- Jimin wishes his wanting stopped with the kisses, but it doesn’t, if anything it only grows. An ache in his jaw that wants to bite and consume like that moment with the kisses and Yoongi- he wants to kiss you deeper and deeper but it never ends up going that way. Not even when your bare thighs brush him in the morning and Jimin can tell you’re only wearing underwear underneath the shirt that smells so much like Namjoon.

- Jimin smells you on Namjoon, smells Namjoon on you, and wants and wants and wants. It’s worse on the mornings that you’re a little late coming to Jimin’s bed, and on the ones where you come in smelling undeniably like Yoongi too. And Jimin can’t fathom what it means and isn’t brave enough to ask.

- He asks Taehyung what it could mean- confessing it all in a rush one afternoon while they process some of the honey. Heating up the wax in the kitchen. Tae just laughs at him. “Are you sure they’re not all together? I mean- they are your pack Jiminie and he’s lived there longer than you have.” Yoongi has lived in your home longer. And it stands to reason if you and Namjoon have invited Jimin to your bed, that you might have invited Yoongi too.

- But Jimin doesn’t know for sure until one morning he wakes restless, his bed vacant. He can hear soft steps in your room. But when he peers down the hall, he’s shocked to find Yoongi softly closing the door behind him. His hair looks a little ruffled, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he slinks off to his own bedroom.

- You’re not the only one bed-hopping. And Jimin thinks about what it might mean. Yoongi hasn’t come to Jimin’s room. And he thinks back to the way Yoongi kissed him like it was the best and the worst, the sweetest but most forbidden thing. Maybe he’s just too nervous.

- Yoongi stays up late with Jimin, and they can both hear and smell the arousal that shoots down the stairs from both of you. Jimin has smelt it more than once by now, on you or on the air that bacons them- as members of the same pack to the same place. Jimin wonders how Yoongi handles it. Because it has Jimin growing half hard in his pajama pants, shifting on the couch needy. Yoongi’s too from the looks of it- but the snake never makes a move. Your moans echo from upstairs, their sensitive hybrid ears can hear every word that you share. And Jimin can almost taste you on the air.

- Namjoon’s gentle teasing growl is faint as is his words, “do you want them to hear you, my love? is that why you’re being so loud?- or is this” Namjoon pauses, and a wet sound fills the silence, “just too much for you?” 

- At night, when you’re not there, Jimin bites the pillow and lets his own hands wander. Feels guilty and not guilty at all when you end up in bed with him the next morning, and he licks at the hickeys on your neck left there by Namjoon’s mouth, tasting his alpha on your skin and on your lips. 

- Jimin goes to bed one evening alone, and lies listless for a moment before he realizes how much he wants to fall asleep next to you too- Namjoon too. How many times had Namjoon invited Jimin to stay in your room? How many times had he woken up to you by now? He knows the other room isn’t off limits and right now. His body shivers with need, for touches and touches, any that you’d give him. He tells himself he’s just looking for a goodnight kiss as he gets up and walks to your door, the house quiet so late in the evening.

- It shouldn’t feel so tremulous when Jimin walks to your room, to see the warm yellow light leaking through the door. Already cracked and open a few inches letting the noise of you and Namjoon spill out. The giggles he can hear, your voice, sounding the way you do when you smile. And then, a bitten-off moan.

- Jimin can’t stop himself from looking through the crack in the door- even though he knows it’s a private moment, that he really shouldn’t. You’re sitting in-between Namjoon’s legs on the edge of the bed. Jimin’s alphas mouth is firmly attached to your neck, licking and biting and sucking in a way that has Jimin riveted.

- But what really grabs his better judgment by the balls is the way that he can see the silhouette of your body through the large white shirt of Namjoon’s. The shirt so thin and well worn that jimin can see the shadow of your nipples and the hard outline that Namjoon’s hands smooth over, teasing them to a stiff peak. it has Jimin’s mouth-watering. Namjoon’s deep voice crooning as his hands pull at the hem over your baby bump, “let me see you, darling.”

- You’d complained to Jimin the other day that this far into your pregnancy none of your clothes were fitting comfortably anymore, and he can see the supple swell of your stomach and the generous curves of your body. Jimin can’t help but drink in, and stare at hungrily, swallowing thickly. A low whine of want building in his throat.

- He knows it’s wrong to be jealous, but he can’t help it. The feeling growing in his gut as he watches Namjoon pull you back to bed despite your protests. Namjoon looks deliciously good too; miles of his golden skin on display, his rippling thigh muscles exposed. Hair sleep or sex ruffled (Jimin can’t tell the difference)

- “Love I have to pee” you whine, Namjoon’s arms still ensnare your waist and he answers only with a playful growl as he hides his head in your shoulder. His hands roaming those curves like Jimin dreams of doing, Namjoon’s tail thudding against the plush comforter.

- You sigh, your head tilted up, one of your arms back behind you to tug at Namjoon’s hair, swollen pink lips parting in a sigh. He shouldn’t be watching this- this isn’t meant for him to see, this is intimate. He backs up and immediately hits a warm wide chest. “Yoongi!” Jimin squeaks, conscious enough to be quiet, his cheeks flaming as he’s caught.

- The snake hybrid raises an eyebrow in question. Yoongi looks ruffled, his hair messy from sleep. And it seems Jimin isn’t the only one who had plans on sneaking into your room so late at night. Yoongi’s cheeks are pink in the half-light.

- Yoongi leans in, nose so close to Jimin’s throat- where his scent is the strongest and Jimin almost flinches when he realizes how strung out and aroused he smells. Yoongi’s rippling growl makes Jimin’s legs week. 

- You’ve suddenly fallen silent in the other room; exchanging soft words that Jimin can’t hear. “I was just going to…” Jimin searches for a reason, to remember why he was here in the first place. His cheeks absolutely flaming, but before he can find a good reason to why he’s listening in and being quite the voyeur Namjoon speaks up from inside your bedroom. 

- “Jimin, Yoongi” not a question, but a command. Yoongi reaches around Jimin to push the door fully open so that both of you can see the two of them. “You can come in,” you say.

- Jimin has never been redder than he has been right now. Seeing you and Namjoon in your bed, obviously, about to- Jimin gulps audibly. “You don’t have to watch from the hallway” Namjoon teases. “You can watch from in here” Jimin is actually going to pass out, and you sense this, smacking Namjoon lightly on the arm. “Don’t tease him Joonie.”

- “Is it really okay if I-“ Jimin feels tongue-tied, his mind hazy with the smell of both of you, the pheromones that his sensitive nose can pick up on the smell of your slick, and Jimin’s mouth is suddenly so so wet. “I don’t want-“ Jimin breaks off; trying to keep his gaze averted, but can’t resist peeking. “I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable.”

- Jimin sees out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon’s hands rubbing up and down your waist, and he wants to look, wants to see- but can’t. Keeps his eyes averted. “You don’t Jiminie- I” you break off when Namjoon’s hand travels further south. Your other puppy has absolutely no problem trying to distract you. Jimin can’t see exactly what Namjoon’s hands are doing but your chest jumps. And he realizes he’s staring again. 

-“If you’re going to look- you might as well help me take care of her too” Jimin has never heard Namjoon’s voice sound so guttural, and a look at Yoongi reveals his pink cheeks too. “unless you just want to watch like Yoongi does, that's fine too” 

- Jimin sends yoongi an accusatory glance, and the snake hybrid just shrugs at him. leveling him with a dedicatory look. well, Minnie- which are you going to choose?

- “I want- I want” jimin cant get the words out. He knows he doesn't want to leave. but is it really okay if he- is he really allowed to touch you? to make you smell like him the way that Namjoon does? Claiming you in that way. “jiminie- you can- I want you too-” your words are so quiet, face so warm. And it makes Jimin whine- looking to Namjoon for guidance. Imploring him to make the choice- to take the hint because Jimin just needs a little push. And from the looks of it so do you. 

- “You’re both obviously too shy to get it done- so let me take the reigns okay?” Namjoon counters to the silence. Yoongi is still standing behind Jimin, a step closer than should be necessary, and you give them both a shy, wide-eyed look. Like you’re checking to see that this wants it too. Jimin nods, short, jerky, unable to tear his eyes away from your face to see Namjoon’s expression until the elder shifts.

- Yoongi crosses to the other side of the room where a green velvet chair sits, stretching out and making himself comfortable. Whereas Jimin and Namjoon are always a little too soft looking to be threatening. Yoongi eyes the three of you like he’s some sort of predator. Tongue flicking out to lick at his lip. Like he can taste what Jimin can smell- the four of you- the smells of your arousals mixing together. Something satisfying and musky and undeniably pack that makes Yoongi's every instinct sing.

- Jimin has always appreciated Namjoon’s body, the strength there. In many ways he’s the stereotypical alpha; the strength in his arms and in his chest, his collarbones strong and chiseled, but he’s anything but cocky. There is someone so genuine about how unconcerned Namjoon is with his own body, and jimin can’t help but find his confidence attractive. 

- Namjoon lounges back against his hands, And the way he watches Jimin watch both of you lets Jimin know that it’s okay to look his fill. Yoongi too, the low rippling growl he lets out fills the room, makes you feel hot all over as his eyes roam you, Namjoon, and Jimin- the pretty picture you both paint.

- You sit between Namjoon’s legs, his hands on either side of your inner thigh parting your legs gently to show your wetness to Jimin. You make an aborted noise as you realize what he’s doing. All of you swollen and bear for him and nothing to cover you but Namjoon’s shirt and that just barely hiding the tone of your skin behind the creamy white fabric. You’re not wearing any underwear.

- Your pink core trembles a little, your hand gripping Namjoon’s forearm as he grins, drunk on the feel of you in his hands as he squeezed your thighs. Namjoon goes a step further Reaching down to glide a thumb across your wetness. Making you jerk in his hold as he hits the little sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your cunt, glistening wet and ready. 

- “Can you believe it?” he says, his voice a blown-out growl. “So full and still ready for us?” beside Jimin, Yoongi’s pupils are blown, his body jerking as he shifts in his chair, hips on the edge.

- You’re wet and dripping. Your face is hot as you look at him, standing there in the middle of the room, fully clothed while you and Namjoon are intimately bare. Jimin can’t tear his eyes away from you. You smell so ripe and for the taking.

- “You can come closer- you can touch Minnie, it’s okay,” Namjoon says it that way, but his eyes are on Yoongi, gliding down his hips to the bulge in his pants. Namjoon knows he won’t come closer- even if he really wants yoongi too. And Jimin sees that pain him- just for a moment before he puts his chin out in his direction. It’s okay- anything that Yoongi wants, whatever level he feels he can partake in this- it’s okay. Jimin wonders how Yoongi can handle it and hold himself back; how he can handle the dizzying rush of pheromones and not come closer.

- Yoongi settles, his eyes hazy and his legs spread to make room for his hands that touch with purpose. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- at him, his hands slowly smoothing up and over the bulge in his pants or at you. The way you drink in every line of Yoongi, stretched out in his tight pants. A simple hand at your throat, Namjoon rolling his fingers down from your chin to your collarbones. “Let's put on a show for him yeah? Is that what you want Yoongi?”

- Yoongi’s tongue is pink as it swipes across his lips, he nods. In a moment, Jimin feels a little unsure, but that instantly dissipates as Namjoon gestures for him to come forward.

- He’s never been touched or touched another in this way- not with love anyway. All of the small touches you’ve given him, hands on your shoulders the small of your back, felt nothing like this. His fingers reaching out, rounding on the edge of your knee experimentally. Waiting to see your reaction to make sure what he’s doing is okay. Namjoon’s tail starts up it’s wagging behind you. his hands shake with too warm palm smoothing over skin he’s never seen let alone been allowed to touch. He looks at you and feels positively ravenous, licking his lips.

- Namjoon trails a kiss down your neck and Jimin can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to sink into the skin there too. In a moment- he’s not sure if he’d rather be you being bitten or be Namjoon biting you on the neck. You probably don’t get the significance of it quite yet but Jimin- Jimin wants to be on the receiving end of that mark. To bear the mark of an alpha means to be under their protection.

- He wants all of it- all of your sweet looking soft and supple swells. Your body that’s accommodated the life within you so well and deserves a little appreciation. Anything, everything, Jimin and Namjoon will gladly provide. And Yoongi will be content to look. Not ready quite yet to be apart of this the way Jimin is. But it makes you feel hot all over, his piercing eyes on every movement. Barely even blinking.

- Jimin doesn’t know how to be the same sultry tempter that Namjoon is- but at the very least he can follow his lead. Jimin hasn’t had many sultry kisses- the ones you’d shared in your bedroom done with less intent, but he hopes that these can be just as satisfying. He leans in close to you, a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to steady himself as he leans down. 

- The kiss is a gentle thing that Jimin knows won’t hurt. You’d never hurt him- because you’re like him. His softness and sweetness is just like yours. Both shy and honest- the genuine passion that overflows too easy. Like a hurricane filling a teacup.

- You know to go slow, and Jimin lets Namjoon- his alpha, (a whole rush goes down his spine at the idea of it) take the reigns. Feeling a comforting protective feeling wash over him as your lips play together. You suck on one of his lower lips, plush and soft between yours, and hasten a soft bite that has Jimin gasping, jerking forward to rest both hands of his on your upper thighs. Namjoon lets them go- lets you settle in between both of them.

 - He pulls away with a start. “I want both of you- please just- please- let me” you’re already pulling at the edge of his shirt. You’d seen his softness here and there too, but now, having him underneath the palm of your hands feels even better. Jimin has gained weight since he got to the farm yes- but he’s also put on more muscle than anything else, enough protein and hard work has left him soft but with clean edges, lines on his hips that point invitingly south. Dimples that you sink your fingers into.

- You hover there, skimming your hands along them, Namjoon reaching out from behind you to press a flat hand to Jimin’s pelvis, his flannel pajama pants still on, but still, even you can feel the way his abdominal muscles clench at the slightest touch. Even as you tug, give a pleading little whine, Jimin is so so weak to all of you. Jimin takes off his pants so quickly that he almost trips and falls into you, and a quiet chuckles and quick look says that Namjoon is equally as endeared by Jimin’s eagerness as you are. Even Yoongi is grinning.

- Yoongi makes a noise too and all of you look over, he’s got his pants pulled down his hips too, hands slowly teasing at the head of his cock hidden by his boxers. A wet spot there that makes jimin lick his lips. One-day Jimin will earn Yoongi’s trust enough to get his mouth on that length. Yoongi juts his chin out- an invitation to continue.

- Jimin wonders how often you’ve done this before with Yoongi- if this is only the second or third time. The question hovers on the tip of his tongue, struck out of his mind when you put your hands on him and touch him properly. Behind you Namjoon shifts, finally showing that he’s bare too- not even wearing underwear.

- A first look says yes, Namjoon is a little longer than Jimin is. But he’s far thicker than Namjoon and that small blessing in itself has a whole new kind of heat thinning in his gut. Especially when Namjoon stands and measures, going hip to hip with Jimin so that the head of his cock touches Jimin’s stomach. The older hybrid reaching out to skim his large hand over his head. Jimin’s already wet and sensitive gasping at how Namjoon’s hands- so big, fail to cover all of him.

- “I really shouldn’t call you puppy” he hastens with a chuckle, tugging at jimin’s erection, and Jimin can’t help but whine and pant. Namjoon’s mouth skims down and over Jimin’s shoulder, the contact lighting sparks under his skin with how sensitive he feels, and yet- it's still not where he wants it, Jimin feels vacant his mouth unclaimed until you stand too.

- This time you tug Jimin down with a hand in his hair, running your fingers over his ears the same moment that Namjoon bites down on his neck and pulls, teasing over the head of his cock. and it’s too much- too much so soon- making Jimin go soft and pliant as Namjoon sucks jimin’s skin between his teeth. Jimin doesn't know why the edge of a high rises so quickly only that it does and leaves his knees weak- almost giving out at the weight of all the pleasure. 

- To Jimin’s credit- he only cums a little- maybe not a full orgasm from just that. The shame and humiliation of Cumming so early makes him want to hide his face in you and hide he does. Especially when Namjoon lifts his hand up to look at Jimin’s release, chuckles, and licks it.

- He collapses into your front, breathing heavily already. The waves of your sweet arousal washing over him, his nose feels so sensitive he wants to bury it in your heat and breathe in deep, his whole body feels sensitive as Namjoon- now behind Jimin, smoothed his hands up and down his sides, somehow knowing he was a little too overwhelmed by so much so quick.

- He hopes that’s not weird- he has a feeling he’s just a little too touch starved not to get wound up. He doesn’t want this to be over that fast, wants to savor every moment. “I’m sorry,” he squeaks out, but you and Namjoon are quick to soothe him.

- “It’s nothing to be ashamed about Minnie baby, you’re just a little sensitive” Jimin loves that- that nickname falling from your mouth as your touches get slower. more sensual and loving so they don’t overwhelm him so fast. He can tell you and Namjoon and maybe Yoongi are sharing a glance, communicating silently about Jimin- but it doesn’t make him feel annoyed. It just makes him feel cared for. 

- Jimin knows he could go again, isn’t finished, he’s still rock hard, cock bobbing and twitching against his stomach. He just needs a moment to calm down. 

- You guide him to sit back up against the bed and he lies, half in your lap and half to the side. Shifting closer to you with his nose pressed to your neck, licking and sucking to his heart's content. Leaving his bruises right next to Namjoon’s. 

- You’re used to the way that Namjoon gets after an orgasm, his more animal instincts closer to the surface. Sometimes he even fails to speak with words, instead favoring whines and growls. It doesn't surprise you at all that Jimin would fall into a similar headspace the second he got overwhelmed. He laps at your skin, tail thumping as his ears twitch. His nose drawing small circles. The instincts in him pulling him lower as Namjoon rubs up and down his back soothingly.

- Jimin doesn’t realize where he’s ended up until your soft laugh and Namjoon’s chuckle join in tandem. “I take it back- you’re a puppy.” Jimin goes absolutely bright red as he opens his eyes and realizes that he’s been nosing at your breasts, the origin for your milky sweet scent.

- “Can I- have a taste?” he asks. And you turn hot for a whole different reason. you push him off a little, and Jimin wants to whine before he realizes that you’re finally taking off your shirt. and /oh/ you’re so soft looking. Your chest ample and swollen- you look absolutely perfect.

- “Sure but- uhm- I’m- just don’t be surprised if I-” you’re stuttering and shy and Namjoon just leans over, pulling lightly at your sensitive nipples so that Jimin can see for himself. He really is good at making sure you guys don’t get too shy to continue, he’s a good alpha.

- At the sight of a small bead of milk tugged forward by Namjoon’s hand Jimin growls, He tugs a little more and a single droplet travels down your sternum. You exhale as you feel the full heavy feeling that your breasts have taken on these past few weeks starts to ease a little.

- Jimin notices your discomfort the way you shift and doesn’t think- his instincts taking over before he leans forward and hastens a lick. taking the droplet from your skin into his mouth and licking up- so that he doesn't waste a drop. his plush lips melt around your nipple and he closes his eyes- savoring it. It only takes a small suck for your milk to really come in, and you shift instantly under Jimin's hands, throwing your head back with a sigh as the ache eases. Jimin growls and pulls you forward by a hand underneath your back, jostling you in his eagerness.

- You taste so sweet, the fatty liquid sliding down his throat as he suckles eagerly. Namjoon buries his fingers into your hair, pulling you up to kiss him but Jimin isn’t paying attention- can’t concentrate on anything other than the smooth taste of you sliding over his tongue as he sucks and sucks and sucks. the taste of you- the cream to your peaches and cream scent sliding like ambrosia over his tongue. 

- Jimin may not be talkative- brought down to his lower basic instincts- but he does make noise. His tail wagging behind him Hitting Namjoon’s, a whine mixing with a growl. Eyes rolling back into his head- he can’t help it you just taste so fucking good. 

- You can’t concentrate on Namjoon’s kiss either; your mouth open and a little sloppy, Namjoon levels you with a hot look. “What do you say lovely? Does she taste as good as she smells?” Jimin is so drunk on you that he barely even hears Namjoon. His teeth nip a little, you hissing a little.

- Namjoon tugs on Jimin’s hair and the other hybrid growls. It’s a Feral and angry sound- anything that would take him away from your sweet taste would have jimin angry. It’s so unexpected- that he would be so possessive- that Namjoon actually laughs. 

- You do too, though it’s quickly interrupted by a moan when Jimin pauses his sucking to lave a lick against your nipple. Namjoon holds him too far away for him to properly suck. “Gentle puppy” Jimin’s hands grip underneath your breasts, possessively clinging to you. whining at Namjoon. begging his alpha to let him go back. Namjoon lets Jimin tug his own hair before he guides his head back to you. 

- Namjoon keeps your eye contact until the second he lowers to suck too. Having both of them at the same time overwhelms you. Especially when you look past their heads and see Yoongi licking his lips too. Stroking his red cock slowly and carefully. The head is already red, and you can tell from the way he pulls off that he’d edging himself. Hips shaking every time he senses his touches. And you wonder if he wants to cum with you. His throat bobbing every time his tongue darts out.

- Having both their mouths on you makes you keen. And when Namjoon guides Jimin’s hand to your cunt you lose it- moaning, panting their names and gripping at their heads, pulling their hair. Jimin’s hands are sloppy as they grip and touch. Hungrily exploring your thighs. Namjoon’s a little more guided, paying special attention to your entrance. When he realizes Jimin’s gotten distracted feeling up your thighs and ass he guides Jimin so finger you, smooth fingertips rubbing at your walls in time with his sucks, while Namjoon rubs smooth circles against your clit.

 - You time the rolls of your hips with Yoongi’s as he shallowly fucks his hand.

- You cum like that, both their hands on you, and Yoongi’s growl, Namjoon’s head snap up. “You can cum Yoongi” Namjoon commands, with a fucked out chuckle. Your milk caught in one of his dimples. Yoongi’s hands are tight around the knot at the base of his cock, cum dripping down around his wrist, his head thrown back. Lazily spread out, his limbs turned to jelly.

- To Yoongi- it doesn't feel awkward to have cum so soon. If anything the sheer intimacy of it all- knowing that he can be vulnerable and fucked out in front of both of you- makes him feel even hazier. And just because he’s cum- doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy the sight of you three all tangled together.

- Jimin’s hardness pokes at your thigh as he straddles it. Rocking against you in time with his sucks. hands returning to their appreciation of your thighs once you’ve cum, head a little clearer. Namjoon is equally as hard and waiting. Namjoon groans as one of your hands finds his cock. 

- You’re used to the way he likes it by now, concentrating your attention on his head. Your other less dominant hand still makes Jimin jerk. Fucking into the tight circle of your hand that can’t fit around the entirety of his cock but is more than enough to tease his head until he’s throbbing.

- Jimin gives one last bite as your milk peters off; no more left and your other breast rightfully as drained, pulling away and licking at his lips. He’s so high on the taste of you, the smell of you, all of you that he barely realizes he’s grinding against your thigh or into your hand. Namjoon stills your hand against him when he gets close. Your thighs shake as Namjoon guides both of you to sit back; pressing a kiss to your forehead, Jimin’s, and then your tummy.

- “Why don’t you watch and see how it’s done puppy” Jimin gets off, sitting on his knees to the side and resists the urge to touch. Namjoon gives him a look and you look up from where you lie against the bed, grinning at him. but he’s obedient, doesn't touch, and just watches to learn. 

- “Would you cum again if I called you good b-” Jimin flushes, scrambling to get a hand over your mouth and stop you from finishing that sentence as his cock twitches and dribbles pre-cum onto the blanket. Face flaming as you laugh against his palm. “Yes- so please don’t I just want to-” Jimin whines. the humiliation making him hornier somehow. Yoongi’s rueful grin and Namjoon's expectant expression that says Jimin is just the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

- It’s somewhat of an honesty thing too- because you know Jimin- you know him so well enough to tease him and have it not be awkward but arousing- knowing just the right words to say to get him riled up. To prove to you that he can be good- can learn how to fuck you well without cumming (again) “why don’t you help me hold her Minnie.”  

- Namjoon’s smirk is happy and a little fucked out as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed by your ankles, your laughter turning into a giggle. Knowing how Namjoon loves to man handle you. And you’d be lying if his strength- the fact that he can still lift you without issue even this far into your pregnancy wasn’t a little bit of a turn on. 

- Namjoon gently manhandles you into the position he wants, you stretched out against the sheets, your nipples all puffy and pink from the way Namjoon and jimin mercilessly handled you earlier. A bruise forming where Jimin was a little rough, half-circles from his mouth. 

- Namjoon guides you to hold your hands above your head, guiding your wrists into Jimin’s to hold you there, his hands lacing with yours, bending down to kiss you. You gasp into Jimin’s mouth at the first push of Namjoon into your dripping cunt. The push and pull of his hips. It’s as erotic as it is sweet, Jimin presses his hips to the bed to relieve some of the aches but does not rut forward. And a look from Namjoon tells him to be careful- he’ll allow that- but the next time Jimin cums Namjoon wants it to be by his command.

- “You see Minnie- she’s not the biggest fan of a rough fuck- we’ve got to be gentle with her see, but as long as you make them deep and long she likes it” Namjoon shows Jimin and below Them, you moan. Lacing your fingers with Jimin's. 

- There is a certain unspoken dominance between Namjoon and the other hybrids. You too- though that has less to do with scent and the instinctual pull that you feel to be good for him. Jimin can’t get a good handle on why exactly he wants to do everything the elder says only that the idea of Namjoon being upset with him right now sends a jolt of fear all the way to the end of his tail.

- When Namjoon cums it’s with a low groan, and you squirting weakly around his cock. Your thighs are shaking and Namjoon leans close to kiss you through you high, then leans up to kiss Jimin too in reward for being patient. 

- You’re panting, body humming with pleasure as you feel namjoon’s knot press just outside your entrance, bulging so much that his rocking rubs against your clit. Namjoon is careful to fist his knot in his hand, meant to lock him and his partner in place to ensure a pregnancy would take place. If you were a hybrid you would be keening for his knot, probably crying for it. But as it is you’re a little glad he didn’t decide to stretch you out on it today. 

- You’re sure that the next time you cum your eyes are going to roll back. And you might pass out. It’s happened before. The first night you and Namjoon ever let Yoongi watch you. Namjoon had so thoroughly put you through your paces that you’d collapsed, and come to with two very panicked hybrids standing over you.

- Especially because it would have taken several long minutes to go down and Jimin is hard and aching for you. Namjoon is a good and patient alpha; he’ll let Jimin knot you tonight. Namjoon gives his knot one final squeeze before he gestures for Jimin. He lets go of your hands unwillingly, joining Namjoon at the edge of the bed.

- Namjoon pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, the movement so sudden that it makes you giggle. You’re a little fucked out, but it only makes your hybrids endeared. You close your eyes as Namjoon manhandles you into place, sighing out a “fuck” as he sees you below him. god- Namjoon loves you so much and you can feel it in every touch. 

- He hitches your legs up and asks you to hold them, hands gripping underneath your knees. Keeping you bare for all of them. Jimin’s mouth waters when he sees your wet and messy cunt, a little bit of Namjoon’s cum dripping out of your entrance.

- Fuck just getting his mouth on Yoongi; Jimin wants to get his mouth on all of you. Huh- maybe he has some sort of oral fixation. Jimin is so caught up in imagining it he barely processes Namjoon stepping away, tugging jimin in close and positioning himself behind the other dog hybrid, Namjoon’s knot and wet cock presses up against Jimin’s ass as Namjoon uses his hands to guide jimin into your heat. 

- Jimin is so thick. So big compared to your entrance, the stretch doesn't burn after Namjoon but you do feel full- so deliciously full that it makes you gasp and grip jimin's shoulder, letting your leg fall against his hip. 

-  You're so wet and warm; Jimin has to slow down immediately. whining loud in the quiet room. “Alpha- I can’t-” namjoon's hand forms a vice around the base of his cock, keeping him from cumming. “You can- and you will Jimin” Weather it’s your wetness or Namjoon’s cum that makes the slide inside of you so slick. He can only thrust forward so far before his stomach makes contact with your baby bump, and the slide, the simple push of your hips against his makes him feel tingly all over.

- “Fuck you feel so good,” Jimin pants out, and you smile, reaching forward to brush his hair out of his face and over his ears, sending a shock of pleasure all the way down to his tail. Maybe it’s because he’s been wound up so much, or because you’re still tightening with the last thrum of your orgasm that makes Jimin come so easily. 

- He’s only been trusting inside of you for a few minutes before he feels his knot start to swell, pulsating against namjoons fingers and ready to spill inside. namjoon lets him go and Jimin can barely keep himself from getting rough with you. though he won’t- would never dream of hurting you. It feels nice to be filled by him, and you feel yourself brought to the edge again by his gentleness- he doesn’t have to thrust quickly for it to feel good- just being this close- as close as you two can get to each other is enough.  

- It’s not Jimin’s first time having sex. But for all intents and purposes. You’re the only ones it matters for. He sends a panicked look in Namjoon’s direction, unsure if he’ll be able to hold off. His hands shaking where they sit, entwined with yours. Body crouched as close as he can to you. Through the entirety of it- Namjoon has been stroking up and down his back, and he grips his hips now- guiding him through each thrust to make them less sloppy.  “Alpha- alpha please-“  

- “You can cum Jimin, make sure you knot her.” At his alphas command Jimin cums with a shout. Namjoon pressed to his back and Yoongi hissing over his shoulder. Watching every thrust with baited breath. namjoon pushes jimin’s hips inside at just the right moment and you twitch as he knots you. feeling him swell inside you more than should be possible entrance pulsating in time with his twitches. jimin cumming into you with squirts and squirts of warmth as you milk his knot.

- You squirt weakly- and it drips down around his cock and makes it even wetter if that’s even possible, no doubt leaving a puddle against your bed. you hold jimin close and he wants to collapse against you but doesn't because of namjoon holding him around the middle, guiding you to safely sit to the side, giving your little baby bump a little loving rub. “Gotta keep the bun safe minnie” namjoon chides. “Sorry hyung just- so good” Jimin slurs. eyes still rolling back in his head as he just keeps Cumming. 

- “Can I call you good boy now?” you tease, and jimin whines again predictably as both namjoon and yoongi nodd. Jimin’s knot does not stay inflated as long as namjoon’s does. starting to shrink after a few minutes once he stops cumming really. though the occasional spasm of your walls around him has him tensing again. 

- When its gone down fully he makes to pull out but namjoon catches his hips again, and tells him to wait. A shiver goes down his spine as yoongi walks over to watch. your leg flopping to the side, open so that he can see, though you grumble and cover your flaming face. it might be a little embarrassing- but it’s also really fucking hot- the way they like to see how much they’ve wrecked you- claimed you in a way they only could.  

- jimin doesn't understand until he sees namjoon and yoongi’s ravenous expressions, the way they lick their lips. it’s only then that namjoon carefully guides jimin to pull out. 

- the rush of cum is immediate, forced out of your entrance by your lingering orgasam makeing you clench and force their cum out of you. there's so much of it, dripping down your thigh thick and viscous and so so messy. 

- jimin is so overwhelmed, as his cock keeps dripping. he flops back onto the bed after a second, close enough to you to be wrapped in your arms, both of you huffing with labored breathes, Namjoon gripping hard around his waist and guiding him into the comfort of the bed and your arms. Hands splayed wide on Jimin’s trembling stomach. Pinching at Jimin’s knot for a moment. And the whole room spins.  

- Jimin is so pretty when he arches his back to try and get away from the over stimulation, especially when your hand joints namjoons and you both squeeze- head thrown back in ecstasy, his plush lips parted with his pants. “Stop fuck- too much” your hands are off of him the second he says it. Jimin’s eyes are closed, as you lean in and kiss at his neck. “Sorry puppy” he hears the older alpha chime- Jimin whines, his whole body turned to jelly.

- You’re barely sighing and settling back into the sheets, head tilted to get a sloppy fucked out kiss from Namjoon. Yoongi lingers. And you look up at him expectantly. His cock is still hard and curving against his stomach.Somewhere between jimin and Namjoon in thickness and length but ribbed with veins that stick out like the ones on the back of his hands.

- You think he’s going to mount you too (your deepest darkest fantasy’s hope that he might. You have to admit that you like the idea of one of them going one after another, Cumming in you, making you feel full and well fucked. You’re certain that one day- if they still want this- if they want to keep doing this with you. You’ll have that, each of them knotting you and filling you up- breeding you and making sure they knock you up again. human hybrid pregnancies are so rare they’re practically non-existent, but you know if there where any that would manage it it would be these three.)

- jimin’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his skull when he smells yoongi closer, nostrils flaring, “gotta help us breed our omega yoongi” he slurs. clutching posessively at you. The words so unexpected but so right. Namjoon can’t take his eyes off Yoongi. While in his arms. jimin tries not to dose- thoroughly spent. 

- It’s the kind of language that Namjoon’s used with you before- calling you their omega- though you’re human you know what it means. To be theirs, taken care of and knocked up and fucked out. You and Namjoon- for the amount you bicker like an old married couple. Also communicate a lot,

- Though talk of your fantasies has mostly been pillow talk. Both of you spoke of wanting this before it happened and of your feelings for the others too. Namjoon had squealed almost as much as you had when you’d told him of jimin’s confession.

- You’d done your best to learn all you could about hybrids. So it never struck you as strange when Namjoon had come to you and confessed that Yoongi would one day be apart of his pack. Namjoon’s alpha instincts choosing Yoongi- spreading protectively over the snake hybrid. Namjoon hadn’t had much control over who was accepted into his pack- much in the same way that you have never have control over who you fall in love with.

- And maybe it was through you- that Namjoon and Yoongi eventually found a way to connect beyond the touches. Because Yoongi looks at the utter mess of your entrance, splattered with jimin and Namjoon cum and growls. His hands barely brushing your skin as he guides you to spread your legs and bare yourself to him. You dont understand what obsession they have with looking at your cunt- but there has to be something. 

- Namjoon ever insatiable even snakes his hand around to spread you out for Yoongi. Teasing at your outer lips before his thumb presses against your clit- making your legs tremble. His touches so slow and firm, enough to make you absolutely desperate for another orgasm.

- Yoongi won’t touch you, he won’t make you cum- you know that enough by now because as much as Yoongi loves the intimacy you have it’s still too much for him. But one of his fangs hangs out over his lip when Namjoon starts to finger you. Rubbing their cum into your clit. And like you could read his mind, Yoongi starts up his stroking above you. 

- He never breaks eye contact with you. Beside you, Jimin shifts to watch. His sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. “I’m not going to stop until you’re squirting,” 

- “Why do you always want to- ah- make me messy?” you tease Namjoon- bickering with him even now. “Who knows maybe dirt is just my kink.” 

- Jimin snorts, “You hate gardening Namjoon-“ you laugh, but you’re also squirming in overstimulation, as Namjoon’s thumb teases and teases until you’re trembling, and you want to gasp say that you can’t possibly cum again- but a look over your shoulder tells you that Namjoon knows you can. Yoongi’s eyes lock with yours when you look back, and you see the sweat on his temple, Namjoon’s hand speeding up when his does.

- Cumming after a few minutes with a gush that makes your cheeks flame. Hips jerking up and off the bed as you squirt- pussy clenching so hard that it forces their cum out to drip. Timed with you again- the intimacy of it all- of Cumming together, Yoongi’s cum spurting all over your stomach before he directs it to your clit. Mixing with the other hybrids cum. 

- You’re thoroughly spent, legs falling open with no shame to hide you from the painful friction that would surely arise if anything touched your clit right now. Reaching out for arms that gladly take you. Ready to have them close.

- Jimin sits up, brain finally a little clearer as the pheromones in the room start to dissipate, leaning forward to hasten a lick Over your entrance tasting all of you intermingled makes his tail wag. But you’re a little too sensitive even for that- and you pull Jimin away before he can give a second lick, and he curls up close to you in the next second, face buried in your shoulder. 

- He’s just as fucked out at you are, wrung out and hung to dry by all of this intimacy and pleasure making his body feel satisfied and settled. Unwilling to move from this bed. speaking only through whines and grumbles. Practically non verbal- and brought low into his hybrid headspace. Jimin and Namjoon don’t mind the mess on you. To them- it just smells like pack and home.

- He’s dimly aware of Yoongi going to the bathroom to get a rag for you- because as much as you love the feeling of all of their cum filling you up you really don’t want to have to change your sheets and luckily for you- most of the mess of your lovemaking has been well contained On you skin and your well placed blanket that can easily be exchanged for a fresh one.

- Namjoon softly turns jimin over onto his stomach, Jimin’s red cock pressed uncomfortably to the bed as they wipe down the release on Jimin’s back too. (Had Namjoon cum there? rutting in-between Jimin’s ass cheeks as he’d been inside you? and had Jimin been too lost in the throws of his passion to realize?)

- “I love you Yoongi, thank you for letting us do this, thank you for being apart of this.” he hears you say, and it makes Jimin’s tail wag.

- He stays awake long enough to hear Namjoon switch the fan on and to feel Namjoon swallow both you and Jimin in his arms. He hears them quietly conversing. “Are you sure you don’t want to come closer?” Yoongi must indicate one way or another. Because Namjoon quietly settles. 

- The bed shifts, and he gathers Yoongi must have curled up several inches to the left of him. jimin squirms- wishing he’d come closer. but then he feels the slow trail of Yoongi’s fingers just along his spine and smiles into your hair.

- He wants to reach out, to pull him closer- but Jimin won’t know that touch is so tenuous for him. He knows him not partaking tonight isn’t anything to do with not loving you three. Jimin will respect Yoongi’s boundaries for as long as it takes for Yoongi to not feel a bit of the aching hesitation he suffers through when it comes to loving his pack. His eyes closed, he feels fingers trail along the edge of his hairline, ears flicking and nose twitching, Jimin lets out a happy little puppy grumble.

- “Love you” he finds himself whispering against your hair, “love you all so much” his words are slurry and not all there. And he’s rewarded with Namjoon muttering it back, reaching out to run a hand gently along his cheeks. A large hand knots in his hair, not rubbing through and just gripping, and jimin knows its Yoongi hand.

- Yoongi stays awake that night until all of you are asleep, wishing that for once- he felt the pull of Namjoon’s alphaness the same way Jimin did. The younger certainly seemed hazy; all of the tension in his body giving way with Namjoon’s will exert itself over him. But he’s content to see them the way they are now, all soft and vulnerable. Namjoon and Yoongi bookending the both of you curled together in the middle. So peaceful. Yoongi hopes he can make the two of you feel as safe as Namjoon makes you feel.

- Yoongi reaches out to touch your face, thumb drifting a hair's breadth from your lips, he knows he could never hurt you- never even dream of it. His mistress- owner- this mission was doomed from the start. He was yours- for all intents and purposes of the words. Yoongi didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Other than your bed at that moment. 

- And when he closes his eyes He imagines all the ways that he would touch you if he could. How he would have touched you tonight if he’d just allowed himself too. Maybe in the future- maybe in a few days when he gets used to this togetherness he’ll get to be close to you in the way he so desperately wants. Tonight was so nice, and with you smelling like all three of them. Yoongi feels like he’s apart of this- in a way that he hasn’t felt before. 

- it’s not only touches he wants- it’s the love you share too. All of the words he would whisper low in your ears where he able. He’d find out your favorite foods and cook them every day, find out everything you like- badger you even. So that he could learn your favorite things and hopefully earn the right of being one of your favorite things too. 

- He imagines the three of you holding him close in the winter and giving him space in the spring when his skin gets all sheady and itchy. Maybe you’d even make him one of those oatmeal baths that you’d started to favor towards the end of your pregnancy to help ease the shedding process. he imagines Jimin prodding at his scales and counting them. Namjoon kissing the ones behind his ear. 

- Yoongi thinks of the future you have with namjoon and jimin and thinks about you and your child. Yoongi imagines for a second even though the image hurts; what it would be like to see them. He feels his heart ache so viscerally it’s too much- he can’t think about that. 

- He can't think about what he can’t have. In the next few days he’s going to do his best to love you three and protect you and then that will be that. that's all yoongi gets. Not a life with you or a family with you. And then he opens his eyes, swallowing. And thinks that even if he doesn’t get to see all of that- at least- at the very least, he can savor every moment like it might be the last.

- And it is the last moment, Five. 

-  Four. He leaves the room to get a glass of water. If he’d known, maybe he would have looked back when he crossed over the threshold of your bedroom door. The clock ticking down to zero in an instant like a timer left unwatched. 

- Three. If he’d known, maybe he would have leaned over Jimin’s body to kiss your lips- just to kiss you once. Given Namjoon a kiss too. Touched Jimin's face to say ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the love you want, but they’ll give it to you in my absence,”

- Two. On his ways down the stairs, the house is quiet and so familiar. The only home he’s ever had, the only place he’s ever wanted to stay forever.

- One. He’s just on the landing, when he sees the car out-front, black with its lights off, but if he listens he can still hear it running, as quiet as a mountain lions purr. Then He hears a quiet knock at the door. And Yoongi pauses on the steps.

- The clock stops at zero.

- The cherry of her lit cigarette is the only thing that glimmers in the moonlight with any color. That and the red tip of her tongue as she rolls it over her teeth. Yoongi freezes in fear the second he sees his owner, standing with her arm against the doorframe. 

- A wash of cigarette smoke tainting the scents of all of you on him. He sees her farce, her thinly veiled superiority, and the tenseness in her body. Three men behind her. it’s all a lie, she’s angry and she’s afraid and she’s a devil in human skin. 

- “Times up Yoongi.” One moment- he just needs one more moment. Holds up her finger and for once, she listens. Taps her foot impatiently. 

- The house is quiet, upstairs you sleep on, unaware of what happens below. 

- The next morning you wake up to Jimin and Namjoon curled up close. Their soft breathes intermingling in the golden light of morning. Jimin nosing underneath your chin. You cuddle close for a moment letting the safety of sleep melt away, before you sigh and get up to get dressed. The heats broken over the night, and you wrap your fluffy robe around your shoulders just to feel a little cozy. You don’t know why you feel so restless, but it’s like your bones are cold.

- Things are too quiet, the hum of Yoongi’s air conditioners aren’t running, aren’t filling the top floor of your house with their white noise hum. And you realize something’s wrong the second you pause by his door. Usually, his air conditioners run through the night, and leave the space under his door and immediately outside in the hall cooler to the touch, but a look inside after a nock reveals his room is empty, his straw hat is missing from its hook too. You’d assumed he’d left after last night to sleep in his own room because yours was too warm.

- You spill out onto the first floor of your house looking for him, searching for him by the coffee maker or on the couch watching the morning news, but a small commotion, terse hush words interrupt your train of thought.

- The cat hybrids are crowded around something on the table. Breakfast barely even started. One of them turns when they see you in the doorway and if any of them notice something different about your scent- probably drenched with both all of your hybrids. None of them say anything. If you had to guess- you’d say that whatevers wrong is much more pressing than any hybrid faux pas.

- “We were going to wake you” one of them says, biting her lower lip, her torn ear twitching. “We didn’t think you’d want us to move it until you saw.”

- The crowd parts, and you pull up to the side of the prep table. a blanket is folded on the table- it’s Yoongi’s- the heated one. The one that he needs to sleep if he’s going to not wake up shaky and too cold in the middle of the night. His sun hat- the one he always wears sitting on top of it, a little note sitting there too tucked into the leather band.

- The simple note- two words that aren’t enough to soothe the sudden panic in your veins. “I’m sorry” written in his neat scrawl. The words he wants to say but can’t- had to erase and then scribble over so you can’t read them. “I’m sorry I can’t stay, I would if I could, and I want too so bad. it’s not your fault that i had to go.” 

- But there are just those two. I’m sorry. Not enough and almost visceral in the way that they shock the air out of your lungs. You gasp- almost falling with the way it hits you. You wish it wasn’t true, but deep down you know what it means.

- Yoongi is gone. 

Please Reblog and Comment! Likes are nice but they do little to support content creators! 

Kofi

[lovphobic]

Ooo let's hear about thalya! Love that name btw

oo an enabler. love u.

i will try to do this as linear as possible, but a lot of her story is sildraste's, and a lot of sildraste's is hers lmao. and of course all of this is subject to change due to me having her as a character with substance for like. 3 days max, while also filling in the roles ive already given her through sildraste

so she lives with her father in this settlement out in what would be the country. just outside of a city basically. she works as kinda an apprentice under her father, who is a jeweler. which is how the pendant comes into play eventually

when she isnt helping him though, she likes to be helpful to other people in the settlement. a healing hand. so right now i have her as an alchemist artificer (which is a lot to try and understand when youve never played and barely understand the game as is fjhsdjkf) which i feel plays well off of sildraste's class of ranger.

i want her to be this really kind and bubbly character. really em and sympathetic. she will cry when you cry. i want to play her off as naive but like, shes really not. belle from beauty and the beast. thats who i want you to think of. just with less focus on the books. just a joy to be around with no real enemies

which is how she and sildraste really come to hit it off together. sildraste wandered into the settlement on one of her journeys, stopped for supplies and food and a place to generally safely rest. and ended up staying.

im still not sure how i want this to come about, but i am dead set on this pendant somehow leading to sildraste "killing" her. so im going to skip over this bit of the story for right now. its cursed somehow and leads to thalya becoming a danger to the settlement, thats all you really need to know jfshfjk

but when sildraste looses and arrow that Shouldve been a killing shot, due to the general Weight of the situation. the anguish and disbelief and. well. every emotion you can expect to have when you have to kill the love of your life. due to all those emotions she misfires. it wounds her! and in her panic, sildraste Really Does Think thalya's dead. so she takes the pendant from her neck as something to remember her by, and flees. middle of the night leave her on the floor "dead" flees.

but of course in classic good ma/ss ef/fect 3 style heartstring tugging, soon as shes gone, thalya draws breath. not well enough to stand, or to call out. just enough to know she's still alive and needs help. WHICH! i think would be a good play on her artificer class to cast healing word on herself

im not sure again how i want her to come to the conclusion that pendant cursed > i was cursed, i was a threat to society > pendant gone > love of my life has it > the story is going to repeat on > i have to find her before its too late BUT thats the conclusion i want her to come to.

essentially i think itd be really cool for her to have to have this pleading showdown with sildraste right as shes on the brink of no return and in a jen/nifers bo/dy style just RIP the pendant off her neck

thats kinda her story right now! i dont have much else to say about it. but some fun things are: i figured out her birthday and sign today! she was born december 19 and is a sagittarius. after i post this and shower ill work on her alignment quiz and get around to posting THAT.

and here is her playlist, if you want to get a better Feel for her character. it kinda goes through her whole story on its own, just not in order per se LJFHDSJKFSA

LASTLY!! here is her picrew + face claim. i found the face claim on unsplash and. because of that i have no idea who this is. but thats my thalya! (peep the pendant)

[lazywonderlvnd]

*hesitantly steps in the box* Umm.. soo.. I was listening to Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift again and that song (is awesome btw if you haven't listened to it already) just gives me such MAJOR drarry vibes .. like -

" And I screamed, 'for whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?' He looks up grinning like a devil. "

Like if that's not drarry I'd chomp my pillows. So .. *twiddling thumbs* could you pls write something with that line as a prompt?? Pretty please 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️ maybe use the song as inspiration.. idk? Whatever you like. ALSO, don't forget I STILL LOVE YOU that ain't changing yet and you haven't seen the last of me! Imma tail after you for eternity and you better take that as the threat it is! *throws love at you* BYE!! ❤️❤️ *vaults outside the box*

my sweetest most loved angel!! thank u so much for this prompt based on a BOP i was obsessed w when the album first came out. it got sm longer than it was meant to be, so it can be found on ao3 as well!! i hope u like it ilysm ❤️❤️❤️❤️

warnings for minor drug use (weed) and implied suicide of a minor character (lucius, extremely vague reference but pls be aware!)

rating: e word count: ~5k

When Pansy asked him how it started, Draco discovered that he didn’t know what to tell her.

Technically, though, it had started at Ernie Macmillan’s party in the beginning of summer, with the cloying scent of Freesias and Freedom Roses (“Imported from the States,” Ernie told Draco pompously, when he asked) and all those string-lights dangling from the cedar pergola, perennial balls of fire inside their clear bubbles like tiny trapped suns. Cheap beer in plastic cups, Marlboro cigarettes, and some stupid Muggle game ... darts.

Technically.  

* * * 

“Get off me, Potter,” Draco says in a failed whisper. He’s laughing and drunk and fuzzy warm under a sprawling summer’s night sky that looks like black paint. Potter tastes like Guinness every time he kisses him, and his hands are surprisingly soft. In direct opposition to his own command he pulls Potter in by the face and glues their mouths back together ravenously. The alcohol makes him sloppy (he likes it, though — the sloppiness of it) and Potter’s skin is warm where Draco slides his hand under an ugly Muggle band T-shirt to touch. 

Around the corner, he can hear music coming from the patio where nearly every single one of their former classmates are gathered, drinking and laughing and getting along famously with a much-needed buffer of five years between them and their Hogwarts days.

Much-needed for himself and Potter as well. Apparently.

He sees him sometimes, at get-togethers like this or around the Ministry, once or twice at a dinner party thrown by a mutual friend. They’re always cordial. He hasn’t insulted Potter to his face in five years.

Except for tonight, when he couldn’t help himself loudly drawing attention to the similarities between Potter’s hair and one of the shrubs in the garden. But they’re kissing now round the side of the house and because of that he’s quite glad for his slip. And it’s their five-year reunion, so. What would it be without some bickering between the two of them?

Potter presses him into the bricks and snogs him breathless, only he keeps grinning and laughing and ruining everything just when Draco starts losing himself in it.

“Quit laughing,” he scolds him. “You’re the worst, Potter. No etiquette at all.”

“That’s rude,” Potter says. His breath wafts across Draco’s mouth. His eyes are excessively green behind their round frames, which have not changed since their school days. The scar is mostly hidden beneath his wild fringe, save for the very bottom where it slashes neatly through a dark eyebrow and touches his eyelid. “I can’t help it, I’m pissed good and proper.”

His hand moves to Draco’s hip and even through the thickness of the alcohol coating his brain like a muffler he feels that touch clear and ripe as daybreak.

“So  that’s  why you’ve decided to snog me rather than …” He waves a hand vaguely, in lieu of the proper witticism with which he might normally have trounced Potter. “You know. Beat me to a pulp.”

“I only did that one time,” Potter says, grinning. Grinning and moving his thumb in circles on Draco’s hip. “And it was because you were being a twat. And I didn’t beat you to a pulp. You’re so dramatic.”

“Semantics,” Draco says. “I had a bloody nose.”

“And you deserved it.”

“Now who’s being rude?”

Potter kisses him again.

Guinness and Freesias.

* * * 

“Macmillan’s party,” he told Pansy. “He kissed me.”

“So that’s where you disappeared to.” She looked smug. Her inch-long nails were sharpened to a point and painted a glossy black, and she drummed them against her cheek, the way a cat flicks its tail. “I’m surprised you kept it from me this whole time.”

“Well,” said Draco, lowering his gaze to his glass of wine and watching it flirt dangerously with the lip as he swirled it. His cheeks felt warm, but he wasn’t embarrassed. “We snuck around.”

Right, maybe a little embarrassed. Mostly conflicted.

“Oh?” For a single syllable the laughter underneath was remarkably transparent.

He looked up, eyebrows lifted. “Yes,” he said a little defensively. “For obvious reasons. At first it was just sex. A lot of it, so he usually came here. Apparently Granger and the Weasel are notorious for popping round his place unexpectedly.”

* * *

He feels opened up all over again every time Potter fucks into him, unhurried and so careful. His hand is hot on Draco’s thigh, both of them sticky with sweat and come. This has to be their third round at least, and Draco’s sluggish brain insists it might actually be four.

An open window lets in the late afternoon air, humid and drowsy and perfumed heavily with flowers (a la Macmillan, Draco planted Freesias and Freedom Roses outside his bedroom window and helped them along to full bloom with some careful magic). Potter’s hair is damp with sweat — from exertion and the relentless heat of July — and Draco slides his fingers into it, tangles them and pulls the way he’s learned Potter likes. If he’s honest, he’s harboured a very secret and  very  desperate yearning to touch Potter’s hair since he was quite young. He doesn’t know why.

Well, maybe he knows why.

Potter makes a quiet, whimpered noise that curls Draco’s toes. He speeds up his hips, closing in on his orgasm and putting his face in Draco’s neck even though it’s too fucking hot for it.

“Fuck,” Draco whines. He tries to lift his leg higher, wrap it around Potter’s waist to get that perfect angle, but they’re too slick with sweat and he lets out a frustrated noise when it falls back to the bed. “Potter,” he says helplessly, arching into each thrust and shaking with the effort. This third (fourth?) orgasm is building too slowly, sitting there hard and stubborn and heavy in his gut and refusing to be coaxed to completion. He’s dripping with the effort, muscles quivering. “Please — I need —”

But he seems to have figured it out for himself. He scoots forward, lifting Draco’s arse higher off the bed and bending him nearly in half. The angle helps him go deeper and he’s suddenly nudging Draco’s oversensitive prostate every time he fucks back in.

“Right there,” Draco gasps, tensing as this new angle lights a fire under his elusive orgasm. His cock is leaking but he doesn’t have the strength or energy to get a hand around it. Potter’s grunting with the effort of fucking him, sweat dripping down his temples and making his neck and torso gleam. “Right there, god, right there, please, I’m so close —”

Potter braces himself and redoubles his efforts, and it’s like he’s reached inside Draco and sunk his claws into that building storm in his belly because suddenly it’s ripped right out of him in a colossal wave of euphoria that approaches too much, cock spurting untouched between them  .  Potter keeps moving inside him while he rides it out, and at some point he feels the warm, wet explosion of Potter emptying in him, mumbling incoherent things that include Draco’s name.

They come down together too. Draco is clutching Potter’s arms and trying to catch his breath and Potter is trembling and clutching him back like an anchor in a veritable ocean of sensation. 

It’s like this every time. 

When Potter drops down onto the bed beside him Draco rolls over and kisses him, long and deep and satisfying, and Potter reciprocates with the kind of intensity that is completely unique to him as a person.

“That one was particularly good,” says Potter, and Draco laughs.

When he feels like moving, he knows that Potter will get up and go to Draco’s kitchen and make tea for both of them, and he won’t need to ask what Draco likes, because he remembered after the first time. They’ll drink it naked in bed as the sun sets on another endless summer day and transforms before their eyes into a humid and pungent summer night, in the midst of which they will fuck at least three more times, and Potter will keep smelling like sweat and bergamot and boy, and Draco will keep feeling starved for him.

And they won’t talk about it.

* * *

“And?” Pansy said.

“And what?”

“You said ‘at first,’” she pointed out, and arched a groomed eyebrow. “When did it turn into more than just sex?”

Draco tamped down on a smile, because that would have been more emotion than he cared to show at the moment. To Pansy or to himself.

He swirled his wine again and took a long sip, stalling. He wanted — needed, really — to talk this out with her, but he was becoming aware of an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest which was suggesting to him that he didn’t want to share everything. Not because he was embarrassed, but, well … it was private. It was between him and Harry.

“There was this one night he came over later than he was supposed to because of work,” Draco said. The memory stirred some emotion. He hadn’t thought of it in a while. “He had this bloody huge takeout bag of Thai food.”

 * * *

He sets it down on Draco’s desk, takes out a container, and after toeing off his shoes drops sideways onto Draco’s bed with it and uses chopsticks to shovel in a mouthful of noodles. Draco watches this in awe.

“Want some?” Harry asks once he’s swallowed (small blessings). There’s grease around his mouth. “There’s a million other things in the bag but you have to get it yourself. I’m dead tired.”

Draco thinks of asking what the hell is going on, because they’re supposed to be fucking by now, but something stops him. Harry really does look exhausted but quite content eating his Thai food on Draco’s bed, and he doesn’t have the heart to berate him for it or remind him that they’re fuck buddies, not friends, and that if he’d wanted to eat and lounge about perhaps he should’ve stayed at home.

And the food really does smell good.

He gets up and fishes another container out of the bag that turns out to be some sort of heavenly-smelling marinated beef, which he brings back to the bed. Harry’s rolled onto his back and has the container of noodles balanced on his stomach.

“They thought they found a Horcrux on a raid,” he says. His voice is perfectly casual, but Draco thinks he can see something troubled in his eyes. He has one foot crossed over the other and  it’s bouncing anxiously; he doesn’t think Harry’s aware of doing it. “Wasn’t. Obviously.” 

“But they needed your expert advice to be sure.”

“Yeah.” Harry looks at him, then his food. “Is that the beef?”

“Yes it is.”

“Good?”

“Haven’t tried it yet.”

He opens the container and chooses a piece, but instead of lifting it to his mouth he follows some crazy impulse and hovers it over Harry’s instead.

“Open, Scarhead,” he says. Harry blinks but does it, and Draco drops it in. He smiles, then chews.

“Brilliant.”

* * *

“We ate it instead of fucking. It was the first time I realised something had shifted.”

“And you let it shift?”

The question gave him pause. He didn’t answer right away, mulling it over. It made it sound as if he’d had a choice, and that wasn’t quite right.

“It already had,” he said finally. “It wasn’t a matter of letting it; by the time I noticed, it had already happened. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come over with the food.”

“But you did let it continue,” said Pansy. She wasn’t antagonising him, nor accusing him of anything. She looked amused, but not in a way that was at his expense. Pansy was both a twat and a fiercely good friend, the combination of which meant she would do nothing more or less than hold up a mirror and force you to look at yourself, gruesome as the experience inevitably wound up being. “Even after you realised he had feelings for you.”

Draco swallowed. He’d not heard it said aloud before now.

“Yes,” he said. “It felt good. Knowing he fancied me.”

* * *

Harry’s shameless in his staring.

He stands in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom and watches Draco like he’s been invited to do so. Draco pretends not to notice, stretched out in a tub full of bubbles facing the opposite way. There’s incense burning, and candles. Harry is completely silent, but Draco could feel those eyes on him from across a crowded hall.

They fucked a few hours ago and fell asleep afterwards. Draco pretended not to think about it, but had actually made the conscious decision to let Harry continue sleeping when he woke up and decided he wanted a bath.

When he can’t take it anymore he opens his eyes and tilts his head back and a little to the side, just enough that he gets Potter in his peripherals.

“Well?” he says. 

“Well what?”

“Join me, won’t you?”

Harry snorts. Then there’s a quiver of magic in the air, and a small, utilitarian chair appears out of thin air beside the tub. Harry sits down in it. He’s holding the joint they’d only gotten halfway through earlier. 

He’s in his jeans and nothing else, all limbs and sparse chest hair, and when he crosses a leg over the other one, elbow resting on his knee as he hits the joint, Draco feels a bone-deep attraction to him that’s beyond physical.

“May I?” Draco asks. Harry hands it over and Draco inhales deeply before returning it. The humidity of the room mixes with the smoke and the smell of marijuana, pungent and cloying like the flowers. 

After a length of silence, Draco says, “Will you read me something?”

“Will I what?”

He takes his wand from the floor and Summons a book from the shelf in his room — one of his poetry collections comes sweeping in through the cracked door and into Harry’s lap. Harry sticks the joint between his lips and starts rifling through it with his glasses all fogged up. 

When he starts reading Byron (“I had a dream, which was not all a dream”) Draco smiles and sinks deeper into the hot water and bubbles, letting Harry’s voice lull him into a pleasant stupor. 

 * * *

“So you led him on,” said Pansy. “Because you liked his attention.”

He stared at her, then let his gaze drop to his wine again. Had he?

“It sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Well,” she said, smiling wryly, “I’m only saying it as you’ve told it to me. Maybe if it sounds bad, it is bad. Some things are that simple, darling. Unless there’s more to it.”

“Like what?” he said, not looking at her. There was a touch of pouty defiance in his voice he knew Pansy would detect instantly. He heard her sigh.

“What exactly happened yesterday, Draco? You didn’t give me any context.”

“What context do you need?” he muttered. “He told me he loved me.”

* * *

They’ve finished an entire bottle of wine between them. He’s not drunk, but he’s pleasantly buzzed. Harry’s sprawled on his back, T-shirt rucked up just below his navel so Draco can see the dark trail of hair leading below his jeans. There’s something implicitly erotic about the movement of his chest when he breathes, his hands folded behind his head, one leg stretched the length of the bed and the other bent at the knee.

He opens his eyes suddenly and grins when he sees Draco looking at him. 

“That wine just made me tired,” he says.

“So go to sleep,” says Draco. He takes a last swig, emptying it, and sets the bottle aside on his night table. He stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, yawning widely, thinking perhaps he’ll give into the tempting allure of sleep as well when Harry says, “I told Hermione about us.”

So he’s not sleeping, then. His stomach clenches hard and a completely irrational sense of panic rises in his throat.

“Us?” he says slowly, sitting up straighter. “What ‘us’?”

Harry looks at him upside-down, then rolls over and rises to his knees. He stares at Draco blankly.

“‘What us?’” he repeats.

“Yes,” says Draco. “What ‘us’?”

“Us,” Harry says. His voice is lower than usual. The word is starting to sound weird and lose meaning. “You and me, Draco.”

“‘You and me?’ Harry, there’s no you and me. We’re just fucking. What do you … what do you mean, you told Granger? Told her what?”

Harry looks … well, he looks fucking crushed. And angry. Draco forces himself not to look away.

“I told her I’d been seeing you,” he says quietly. There’s something … not threatening, but close to it, in his voice.

“Sure,” says Draco. “I see you three times a week, sometimes four. I s’pose if you feel the need to fill Granger in on everything you do with every second of your day —”

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry says. “You know what I meant.”

Draco glares at him. He gets off the bed, slightly lightheaded from the wine, horrified by the emotions welling up inside him right behind the panic, and he points at his bedroom door.

“Get out,” he says. 

“Are you serious?”

“Go!” he says loudly, voice rising. “If you’re gonna start turning this into something it definitely is not then get out of my flat, Potter.” As usual the window is open, but it’s the third of September and getting chilly finally and Draco’s Freesias and Freedom Roses started wilting last week. There’s a chilly breeze coming into that room that is utterly barren of the sweet smells of summer he associates with Harry these days. “It’s time we ended this anyway,” he says. “Summer’s over.”

“So?” From his position kneeling on Draco’s bed Harry shouldn’t feel imposing at all, but he does. There’s no sparkle of humour in his eyes, none of the softness Draco’s gotten used to seeing there. He looks like someone who’s realised they’ve been betrayed.

Worse than that. Someone who’s been betrayed and realises they should have seen it coming.

“What the fuck does summer have to do with anything?”

“Ever heard of a summer fling, Potter? We’re not ‘seeing each other’.”

Harry finally gets off the bed. Draco’s stomach clenches again, more painfully this time. He doesn’t feel bad, he tells himself — this is Harry’s fault. His fault for making a big deal out of something easy and fun and, most of all, temporary. For ruining this with feelings. 

 “That’s not what this was,” Harry says. It’s not an argumentative tone; rather, he sounds disappointed. Devastated, and disappointed. And that look of betrayal, like he’s surprised but not …  that  surprised.

That hurts. 

“This was as real as it gets, Draco,” he says matter-of-factly. “You and I don’t have the capability of doing anything as shallow as a fling.”

“Well, Potter,” says Draco, straining to maintain his level voice, “congratulations, because that is the most disgusting, romanticised, Gryffindorian piece of shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah?” He grabs up his wand from the bedside table and stuffs it into his jeans pocket. “Well here’s another: I love you. You complete fucking prick.”

Draco stares after him as he leaves the room, cowed for the moment. He hears Harry take the Floo powder off his mantle, hears the fire start, and then the sound of Potter disappearing. 

And he feels hollow suddenly.

* * *

“And he said it completely out of the blue?” 

Draco set his wine aside. He was suddenly feeling too sick to put anything else in his body.

“Sort of,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. “He was trying to make something out of nothing. He was just making a point, trying to guilt me, I don’t even think he meant it.”

Pansy said nothing for so long that Draco finally looked up. She had an eyebrow raised.

“Do you really believe that?” she said.

Draco didn’t answer right away. He glanced at the bottle of wine on the table and thought about the way it always tasted a little sweeter on Harry’s lips.

“I don’t know,” he said. “No. But it doesn’t change anything. It was a summer thing, not a … a relationship, for crying out loud. Like I’d date Potter.”

“Why not?”

Draco scoffed. “Why not? Pansy, please. He’s a …”

“A …?”

“He’s an idiot! He’s Potter!  He’s …” He couldn’t think of the right word, something bad enough to express the audacity, the gall , for Potter to think even for a second  that they could …

“Draco Malfoy,” said Pansy. She was smirking. “You love him too.”

Had he felt sick before?  Now he was going to be sick.

“I never would’ve imagined it,” she went on, seeming to take pleasure from his outrage and humiliation. The bint. “Look at you, you’re blushing! Oh my god,” she laughed. And then she stopped laughing, and instead the weight of her own words appeared to descend on her. “Oh my god. You do, don’t you? You are arse over tits for Harry Potter —”

He was up and out of his chair before she’d finished the last word, absurdly,  embarrassingly on the verge of tears all of a sudden. 

“Draco —”

“I’m glad this can serve as your entertainment for the week, Pansy,” he said. A tear rolled down his cheek — could he be any more histrionic? — and he brushed it away furiously. 

“Draco, no —”

“Call Blaise, tell him!” he shouted. “You two can have a good laugh over it —”

“Draco  —”

“Poor Draco’s  fucked himself over again, what a stupid wanker!” 

Pansy got up. He slapped her hand away when she reached for him, but she only came at him again and grabbed it this time when he swatted at her, enfolding it in both of hers. He closed his eyes and hiccoughed and two more tears came.

“Darling, will you please listen to me?” she said softly. It sounded eerily like his mother, which only made him feel young and childish. He tugged his arm away and she let him go, but he didn’t move any farther away. “I am  not  laughing at you,” she told him. “Blaise might, but that’s because Blaise has a black hole for a heart, Draco, the only emotion he’s ever felt is disdain.” Against his will, Draco chuckled wetly. Pansy smiled and took his hand again, tentatively. He allowed it. “ I think it’s lovely that you have feelings for him. I don’t understand what’s got you so upset, I mean … I know it’s Potter, but we’re not teenagers anymore, right? Who cares?”

Draco exhaled a long sigh.

“He let my father go to Azkaban,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. He saw comprehension dawning. “How can I be with someone who could’ve saved my father’s life and chose not to, Pansy?”

“No one could have saved your father, Draco,” said Pansy gravely. His throat was tight, swollen. He hated that he was hanging on her words, looking for truth in them,  wanting to hear something that would make this okay. “He would have done the same thing if they’d let him go back to the manor. It’s not your fault or your mum’s or Potter’s.”

“But —”

“But what?” she cut him off sharply. “Draco, please don’t let your father keep controlling your life from the grave! My god, you deserve happiness, don’t you see that? Even if it’s Potter! In fact, I … I think that could be really good.”

“What, being with Potter?”

“Yes, being with Potter,” she said. “Darling, I say this because I love you: you need to grow a pair of bollocks and start taking control of your own life. I’m not finished!” she added when he opened his mouth to retort. “I understand that it feels like a betrayal of your father, I do, and I’m not saying you can’t have your cherished memories of him, but Draco … you cannot live your life in his shadow, doing things because it’s what he’d want or wouldn’t want. I think that choosing to explore these feelings you have for Potter is the bravest and healthiest thing you could possibly do for yourself.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes wet though the tears had stopped falling. 

“What if it doesn’t last?” he said finally. “What if next week he realises it was a huge mistake?”

“First of all, I doubt that,” said Pansy with a roll of her eyes that was clearly meant to be teasing. “You said you’ve been seeing him all summer, that’s plenty of time to have gotten sick of you. And, even if that did happen, I still think it would be entirely worth that week of being disgustingly in love.”

“Do you?” he drawled.

“Yes! I do!” She picked up his discarded wine glass from before and held it up. “Does the effect of alcohol last forever?”

“No …”

“Of course not! And we don’t expect it to. We expect to have fun while we’re drunk and it’ll last as long as it lasts.”

“Dating someone isn’t like being drunk, Pansy,” Draco said sourly.

“Oh, that’s not the point ,” she huffed. “We don’t do things because we know they’ll last forever, we do them because we want to. In the moment.”

“Sounds irresponsible.”

“Well, of course it is,” she scoffed. “Love is completely irresponsible, that’s the fun of it, Draco. Now take this,” she shoved the glass of wine into his hand, almost spilling it. “Drink up, and then get your arse over to his flat and fix this.”

* * *

Granger opened the door. Draco sighed.

“Hello, Granger,” he said lamely. Her raised eyebrows said she was surprised and thoroughly unimpressed by his appearance.

“Malfoy,” she said.

“Is Potter in?”

“I guess that depends.”

“On?”

She looked at him, dark brown eyes impenetrable. Then she closed the front door behind her.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk to him,” he said tightly. As if this whole thing wasn’t bad enough, now he had to pass a test to get past Granger the bridge troll. “I thought he told you —”

“He did,” she said flatly. “And about yesterday.”

“Well I’m here to apologise,” said Draco. Granger’s eyebrows lifted again. Still unimpressed. “And to tell him …” He sighed again and broke eye contact, willing himself not to give up, not to take this as a sign he should just go home and ream into Pansy for giving him such bad advice.

“Malfoy.” He looked up. Her voice was softer now, and her eyes seemed a little less hard. “What are you doing? You really hurt him, you know.”

“I know,” he said stiffly. “I said I’m here to apologise.”

“Well he doesn’t need an apology,” she said. “If you’re only going to let him down again —”

“I’m not.” He rubbed his forehead and looked at her again, exasperated, defeated. “I’ve … had some sense talked into me.”

She looked like it was the last thing she’d been expecting. 

“Have you?”

“Yes,” he said. “So would you please get him for me before I lose my nerve?”

It was the right thing to say. Her expression melted into something much softer and he fancied he even saw the beginnings of a smile.

“Can I ask who affected this change of heart?”

“Pansy,” he said. And, when Granger seemed taken aback, “She’s very wise when she feels like it.”

“I see. Well …” She still looked a bit conflicted, eyeing him and then putting her hand on the doorknob. “All right. I’ll tell him you’re here, anyway, but he was really hurt, Malfoy. I don’t know if he’ll want to hear it.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said.

Granger eyed him another moment and then went back inside, shutting the door behind her. Draco only had to wait a minute before it was opening again, and this time Harry came out. The sight of him made Draco’s heart feel tender and sore.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, Potter.”

He waited to see if Harry would say anything else but he didn’t. He only stared at Draco expectantly, arms folded, in all ways closed off.

“I came to apologise,” said Draco.

“Well you can keep it,” said Harry. “I don’t need an apology because you told me the truth.”

“It wasn’t the truth, Potter,” Draco said quietly. “Opposite, really.”

Harry was silent. Then, “You made me feel like shit, Draco.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You freaked me out, springing it on me like that.”

A beat, then two, and then suddenly Harry was dropping his arms and sighing and he looked at Draco with so much vulnerability he nearly had to turn away from it.

“I didn’t mean to tell you …” He licked his lips, scratched his arm. It reminded Draco that beneath everything, Harry was still the same awkward dorky leader-of-the-losers he’d always been, just with a bit more confidence now and the title of Official Saviour of the Wizarding World. “I wouldn’t have said that if … I was just angry.”

He didn’t need to ask what Harry was referring to.

“I know.”

“Not that I didn’t … I mean, I … I do —”

“Please don’t say it again,” Draco said. Harry laughed.

“Right. I just meant … I really do have feelings for you, Draco. Like … mad, crazy feelings, y’know? I don’t want it to be a fling.”

“It wasn’t a fling,” he said. He moved a little closer and Harry watched him carefully, eyes flickering once down to Draco’s mouth. “I didn’t even sleep with anyone else the whole time.”

“Well that’s good to know,” said Harry sardonically. But he was smiling, so Draco found himself smiling tentatively as well.

“I wanna be with you, Potter. Properly. I thought …” But he shakes his head, deciding that now isn’t the time to explain about his father. “I thought it was a stupid idea. Now I realise that it probably is, but that I don’t really care much. I’ve decided to ignore my better judgment this one time.”

“That’s quite Gryffindor of you,” Harry commented drily.

“Yes, well.”

“So I go against your better judgment, then?”

“Potter,” Draco sighed. “Please, I don’t mean it like —”

“I’m taking the piss, Draco,” Harry cut him off. He reached for Draco’s waist and pulled him close, and before Draco could get his breath back from a short, surprised intake of breath Harry’s mouth was on his, warm and familiar and soothing. He brought his hands to Harry’s face and kissed back without bothering to hide his overwhelming relief.

Harry chased his mouth when he pulled away and Draco breathed out a laugh, holding him at bay with a hand on his chest. 

“We have plenty of time,” he said. “D’you wanna come over later tonight, after your friends leave?”

“What? No, come in.” He took Draco’s hand and gestured with his head towards the door. “Please. It’s just Ron and Hermione. They know everything.”

“Really?” Draco drawled. “And you think Weasley won’t try to kill me?”

“I promise not to let him,” Harry grinned. “Please, Draco. You said you wanted to do this properly, right?”

He thought of what Pansy said about being irresponsible, and decided it was worth a try at least.

“Okay,” he said. Harry beamed and tugged him inside.

Towards his ultimate downfall or towards the beginning of the rest of his life, he didn’t know. That, as Pansy would have said, was the fun of it.

[heejinnien]

j.jungkook | monsters

word count: 4.5k

pairing: jungkook x reader

synopsis: in the darkness is when the monsters rise.

genre: horror, angst, demon au

warnings: implied minor character death, implied toxic relationship, brief description of gore, death threat, brief violence

author’s note: please do not read this fic if any of the topics listed in the warnings is upsetting or triggering for you. this fic is based on the tale of the hungarian demon, the lidérc. they feed off of nightmares and fear. my beta readers (thank you so much to @voiceswithoutlips-kas, @elcie-chxn, and ryan for beta reading this fic for me) have told me that this fic might be confusing to read at first, so please read it in its entirety. i promise that every detail serves a purpose. that being said, the entire fic will be placed under the read more cut, as triggering content is mentioned right from the start. the banner was made by @voiceswithoutlips-kas​, thank you so much.

cross posted to ao3 here

Now

He's dead, the doctors tell you.

The surgeon in charge of the procedure that was supposed to save your husband's life murmurs his condolences, explaining how your husband's body rejected the new organ. They tried their best, he explains, but once your husband's body had decided to reject it there was not much they could do.

It's almost ironic how he died, considering the numerous ways you thought he would go over the years due to the reckless activities he constantly engaged in. Each time he would leave the house you feared for his life, feared that one day he would no longer return to you. Now, it seems, your worst fears have come true.

When the news finally sinks in you let out a sob, although whether it is one of relief or one of despair you can't quite decipher.

Despite the fact that he loved berating you, loved tearing you down until you were entirely reliant on him, you still loved him. Until death do us part, you had promised on the day of your wedding, and you still loved him as much as you did when you were both teenagers in high school. Going on a date with him sparked the same chaos of butterflies in your stomach as it did on your first date, and you were giddy over the smallest amounts of affection, willingly bending over backward trying to please the man who used to be your husband even at your own discomfort.

In the first days of your marriage, your friends and family would visit you. You had bought an apartment together in the city so that he would be close to his work. You had your reservations at first, but he slowly convinced you of the idea. Of course, he could convince you to walk across glass and you gladly would, for him.

And, at first, you were delighted when somebody would visit you. Your husband had insisted he would provide for your every need, so you didn’t work. You also didn’t leave the apartment, as your husband had also insisted it was too dangerous for you. You had initially become hurt at his words, but when he explained it was merely because you weren’t used to the city and that he would take you out whenever you needed to go out, you accepted his words without argument.

Then

“Y/N,” one of your friends had said abruptly during her visit. You were conversing casually over tea, yourself perched on the edge of your sofa and her on a loveseat opposite you. She leaned forward, worry creasing her face. “I think you should come back home.”

“I’m fine, Soodam,” you replied, startled at her words and setting your tea cup down loudly. “I love my husband, and I love the city.”

Soodam pursed her lips. “From what I’ve seen, your husband keeps you prisoner here.”

You stood indignantly, anger flaring inside you at her words. “He does not! He just wants what’s best for me.”

“How many times have you been into the city then, Y/N?” Soodam pushed, standing up after you. She stepped closer, and you shied away, suddenly nervous.

“I… That doesn’t matter.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to put space between you and Soodam. No matter how much you desperately wanted her to stay away from you, she continued to follow you, grabbing your arm to prevent you from running away from her.

“Y/N, please listen to me,” she begged. “You haven’t been the same since you married him and you know it. The apartment is the only place your husband allows us to meet, and he keeps you like a dog on a leash.”

You yanked your arm out of her hold, anger bubbling inside you like a volcanic vat near explosion. How dare she talk ill of you and your husband like that, she didn’t know anything about you.

“Get out,” you spat harshly, wiping furiously at the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes.

Soodam’s eyes widened, and her voice softened. “Y/N, please. I miss you.” She stepped forward again. “Come home with me.”

“I — ” You trembled, suddenly unsure. Your previous anger dissipated within a second, and you stared at your longtime friend. Sensing your hesitation, Soodam continued, this time with a renewed vigor.

“Your parents miss you, Y/N, I miss you. Please, just come back with me and — ”

“That will be enough, Soodam.”

The aforementioned girl gasped, and you looked to see your husband standing in the doorway to the living room, face stoic but eyes burning with anger. He spared you a brief glance before moving into the room, making your friend suddenly cower back in fright.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Scared, Soodam stared at the floor, grabbing her purse from the coffee table and immediately walking in the direction of the door. Before she could get there, your husband grabbed her arm, much as she had done to you earlier, and whispered in her ear. She nodded, face ashen, staring at the ground and refusing to meet your pleading gaze. Moments later, she was gone.

Silence permeated the apartment. Then, “She won’t be returning.”

You knew better than to question your husband’s wishes so you nodded, throat dry. Your husband let out a harsh laugh at your obedience, before dropping his briefcase by the front door. Without so much as another word, he strode down the corridor leading to his office, the sound of a door slamming ringing through the same passageway moments later. The silence afterwards was even worse than your husband’s wrath, the emotions of the past few seconds catching up to you once again and settling upon you like an unwanted blanket.

That was the last time you saw your friend.

Now

You can't remember the first time you feel as though you are being watched. It might have to do with the first time you see him, as after your first encounter you never consciously feel safe again.

The days following your husband's death seem to pass by in a blur, and sometime during them he appears, slowly forcing himself into every aspect of your life until he is a constant fixture you can no longer ignore.

The first time you see him is during your husband’s funeral. The sky is a somber grey, as if it can sense your mood, and an icy wind nips at anything within its grasp. It is the beginning of winter, and the cold is sharp, chilling you to the bone despite the numerous layers you have on. The funeral is brief, more of a formality than anything. Strangers give you their condolences, and it only serves to remind you of how little you truly know about your husband.

It is when the casket is being lowered into the ground that you see him, standing among the group of mourners.

He is huddled in the center of the group, head bowed. Something about his presence draws you to him, and you don’t realize you’re staring until he looks up, making direct eye contact with you. You quickly look away, face burning with shame. Imagine how it must look, you mentally chide yourself, the wife of a dead man checking out another at his funeral.

You chuckle, the sound empty and devoid of any humor. Luckily for you, at that moment, the casket is finished being lowered. The priest in charge of the funeral’s addresses hands you a shovel, effectively drawing your attention away from the mystery man. As you send shovel after shovel full of dirt flying onto the casket, he is effectively pushed further and further away from your mind.

It is not until after the procession is over, guests beginning to head back to their cars that he approaches you. You have just thanked the priest for his words, turning to walk back to your car when you let out a gasp.

He is standing right in front of you, broad frame seeming imposing against your smaller one. He cocks his head to the side, holding out one hand for you to shake.

“Hello love,” the man’s voice is silky, and he grasps your hand firmly. Even though it is a simple handshake, the contact sends a shiver down your spine. The man stares at you, his expression unreadable, and you have the sinking feeling that he knows the effect he has on you. “I’m Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” you say similarly, albeit a bit hesitant. He feels familiar, the subtlety of his features causing your memory to tingle, an identification of who he is just outside of your grasp. You assume he is just another one of your husband’s associates, shoving away the niggling feeling to give Jungkook a polite smile, hoping he picks up that to you, the conversation is over.

He does, because he steps to the side, allowing you to pass. As you hurry to your car, the skin on the back of your neck prickles, the feeling of someone watching you causing your hair to stand on end. When you look back, however, Jungkook is gone.

~~

From the funeral, the feeling of being watched follows you everywhere. Coincidentally, so does Jungkook.

You run into him at the store, the park, even the lobby of your apartment complex, since it turns out he is a resident who recently moved in. Each time, he gives you a charming but guarded smile, attempting to strike up a conversation with you. Each time, you give short, uninterested responses, something about Jungkook’s presence causing you unease.

A month after the funeral, you are woken up in the dead of night by a pounding on your apartment door. Heart racing, you jolt away to the sound, fumbling in the dark for your phone. Squinting to read the harsh digital light, you manage to make out that it is three am.

Swearing at the heathen who dares interrupt your sleep, you throw off the covers of your bed, swinging your legs onto the floor and using your phone light to navigate the dark hallway.

By the time you finally reach your front door, the pounding has stopped. Annoyed, you unbolt the lock and yank open the wood, ready to give whoever it is a piece of your mind.

The hallway is empty.

~~

The mysterious incident sets you on guard, only serving to increase your paranoia. Several nights later, you hear it again, only this time you swear you hear something else, too.

A voice, calling your name.

“Y/N,” it says sweetly, almost crooning. Even though you are locked in your room and buried beneath the security of a multitude of blankets, the voice manages to reach your ears, sickeningly sweet. “Come out, sweetheart.”

You spend the night huddling in your bed in fear, praying for the noises to go away. You are surprised your neighbors haven’t filed a noise complaint about it by now since they’ve complained over lesser, you think, a thought that dryly amuses you.

Much to your chagrin, the noise continues for the next few nights. Each time you stay huddled in your bed, irrationally hoping that the blankets around you will protect you from whatever it is outside your door.

During the day, you don’t fare much better. You swear you are beginning to lose your mind. You find keys moved, doors left ajar. The fear you feel of being watched only increases.

The last straw that breaks the camel’s back comes when you finally seek out your landlord, demanding to see the security cameras.

“Y/N,” the landlord glances from out of the corner of his eyes at you worriedly as he slots the keys to the security room into the lock. He pushes open the door, gesturing for you to enter first. “I know things have been… stressful for you lately.”

He pauses, flipping on the light switch and illuminating a set of monitors. “Are you sure that someone has been…” He trails off, struggling to repeat what you had told him earlier. “Knocking on your door at three am?”

You glare at the man, and he gulps, effectively silencing himself and preceding to busy himself with the monitors. Hell hath no fury a woman scorned, and you are tired of the constant paranoia that has settled deep in your bones. An uncomfortable silence settles upon you, and you stare unnervingly at your landlord, too sleep deprived and furious to be aware of your rude actions.

“Ah, here it is,” the landlord flashes you a weak smile, pushing a monitor towards you. He clicks his mouse a few times, and footage displaying the hallway outside of your apartment begins to play.

You stare intently at the screen, watching the numbers signaling the time in the corner slowly tick away until finally they reach three am. You hold your breath, and see

Nothing.

Your mouth drops open in shock, and you whirl on your landlord. “Did you tamper with the footage?”

If possible, your landlord looks even more nervous, and he gulps. "I haven’t been in here in the past few days.”

“Try another night,” you demand, desperation welling inside you.

Obediently, he speeds up the tape until it is the following day. And, like in the previous footage, as the clock hits three, the hallway is deserted.

Silence permeates the room.

“Y/N,” the landlord lets out a sympathetic sound, and you don’t realize you have begun to cry until a tear splatters on your shirt. “I think it’s best if you just go back to your apartment.”

Embarrassed and frustrated, you nod, storming out of the room...

And right into Jungkook. Your chin collides with his chest, and you reel backwards, angrily swiping at your tears. The aforementioned individual stares at you, concern lacing his gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you mutter angrily. “Just let me pass.”

Jungkook wordlessly steps to the side, and you quickly hurry past him, now mortified more than anything.

What you didn’t know was that you had just made two, fatal mistakes.

If you had looked into his eyes, you would’ve seen the gleam of delight in his orbs.

If you had turned around, you would have seen the way he smiled.

~~

The footage replaying in your mind, you finally seek out a therapist and book an appointment for the following day. You don’t fall asleep that night, body tense in terror and dread exponentially filling you as the clock ticks closer to three. The knocking, however, never comes, and sometime around the rise of the sun this realization sinks upon you.

You barely make it to your session that day, state in disarray. The many nights of sleeplessness and terror are catching up to you, and you drag your feet down the street, fatigue crashing down upon you.

Somehow, you manage to locate the therapist’s office and scribble down all of your personal information on the clipboard that the receptionist hands you as you enter. You sit in the waiting room, legs bouncing anxiously.

“Y/N?”

You look up as the door opposite you opens and a kind looking man stares down at you.

“Hi, that’s me,” you say, standing and striding over to him. He takes in your worn appearance, eyes kind and compassionate.

“I’m Dr. Kim, but please, call me Taehyung.”

He leads you to a small room just off the main corridor. Several closed doors line the passageway, and at your curious glance Taehyung explains that they are the offices of his coworkers.

His office is small but cozy, a desk on one side and a couch on the other. Bookshelves line the far wall, and a lamp next to the couch gives the room a soft glow. He gestures in the direction of the couch, pulling a chair from his desk over as you sit stiffly.

“Would you like to tell me why you’re here today, Y/N?” Taehyung asks, steepling his fingers on top of his lap and the papers lying there. Your gaze flickers down to the top paper, the sheet you know you had scribbled information on earlier, and he smiles. “I know you already answered that in the pre-screening questions, but I just wanted to ask you instead. It’s always different when someone says it I find.”

Taehyung flashes you a reassuring smile, and you take a deep. With the landlord’s footage playing in your head, you finally manage to open your mouth and say, “I haven’t been able to sleep well lately.” Taehyung nods, as if this is a normal thing, and you push on. “I keep waking up in the middle of the night to this pounding on my door.”

“A pounding?” Taehyung frowns, and the expression sends dread plummeting to your gut.

“I went to the landlord about it,” you say quickly. “But when he showed me the security footage, there was no one there. I swear I’m not crazy, though. It’s almost as if…”

You trail off, forcing your jaw shut before you suggest something crazy.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Taehyung says soothingly. “You’re in a safe place.”

You nod, closing your eyes and attempting to calm your breathing. When you open them, Taehyung is staring at you worriedly.

“Almost as if what, Y/N?” Taehyung gives you another encouraging look. “It’s okay.”

“Almost as if…” You take a deep breath. “As if I’m being haunted by a monster.”

“Monsters?” Much to his credit, Taehyung doesn’t sound mocking at your confession. You nod, throat dry, and he leans forward. “Monsters aren’t real, Y/N.”

“I know that,” you say, your words ending up in an almost whisper. “I just…”

“You wrote that your husband passed away recently, did he not?” Taehyung asks, and you are grateful for the subject change, even if it is to another depressing topic. You nod, and Taehyung continues. “Grief is powerful, and manifests itself differently in everyone. I think that this is just your grief trying to find an outlet.”

“I don’t — ” You protest, but Taehyung quickly holds up a hand to silence you.

“I know it might not seem that way, but trust me, there are no monsters, Y/N.”

You nod slowly, and Taehyung smiles. This time, it’s sharp and sends a shiver down your spine. A dark look passes over Taehyung’s expressions briefly, so briefly you wonder if you imagined it, and then he smiles once again, this one the same, gentle one as before.

“I’ll write you a prescription that should help you sleep.”

“But, Taehyung, that’s not the problem — ”

Taehyung hums, already turning away, and your protests fall on deaf ears.

You end up leaving the session several hundreds of dollars lighter, one prescription heavier, and the worries pressing down upon you still prominent within you.

That evening, when you return to your apartment complex you see Jungkook in your apartment lobby. You had stopped for groceries on the way home, and you are carrying two large paper bags, each one nestled in the crook of your arm.

Jungkook is standing by the elevators. He turns at the sound of you, lip quirked at the sight of you struggling to carry two bags.

“Do you want some help with that?” He asks lightly, brow creasing in concern.

“No, I’m fine,” you reply, your usual answer whenever he asks if he can help. This time, he purses his lips, and you feel a pang of guilt. You think about your therapist’s words, that the sinking sensation you have around him is probably just guilt, and shove down the feeling before saying, “Actually, if you could, that would be great.”

Jungkook beams, taking one of the bags from its precarious grip against you. Moments later, the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. He motions for you to step inside first before following you, pressing the number for your floor. You open your mouth to ask how he knows your floor, but you quickly close it, the therapist’s words ringing in your head. Coincidence, you think.

The ride is silent, the only sound the occasional shuffling as you adjust your grasp on the bag. You find the silence uncomfortable no matter how much you try to convince yourself of your delusion, the sound of the elevator signaling your floor causing you to exhale in relief.

You are the first one off, leading Jungkook to your apartment door. You fumble with your key, shoving it unceremoniously inside the lock and pushing open the door with your hip. You flip on the lights, already heading in the direction of the kitchen before the lights have even fully powered on.

“You can set the groceries down here,” you nod your head in the direction of the counter, setting the groceries down there yourself. Jungkook does the same.

After setting the groceries down, you expect Jungkook to leave but instead he stands, observing you. Unease twists once more in your stomach, and the fact that you two are alone, together, in your home sinks down upon you.

“Thank you for your help,” you say in what you hope is a clear dismissal. Jungkook doesn’t move, continuing to stare at you unflinchingly. You subconsciously step back.

Jungkook steps forward.

“What are you — ”

“Do you not remember me?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, question innocent but voice laced with venom. You swallow, your throat dry, and take another step backwards.

“Uh, no? I’m sorry, you were one of my husband’s associates, right?”

Jungkook scoffs, and in that moment his stance reminds you of a predator. He prowls forward, matching each step you take backward.

“You know who I am, Y/N L/N,” he sneers.

“I don’t — ”

“Yes, you do!” Jungkook spits angrily, slamming his hand into the counter, the loud sound causing you to jump. He cocks his head to the side, eyes twinkling in a mischievous way that has fear coating the inside of your stomach.

“Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it, Y/N?”

To anyone else, the statement may seem harmless, a well known idiom used to caution the overcurious mind. To you, they tear at your memories. You gasp as one particular memory flies to the forefront of your mind.

Then

You gently pushed open the already ajar door of your husband’s office, looking around the room for your husband. You had just finished making dinner and were ready for him to come to the dining room so you two could eat, but he was nowhere to be seen. On his desk, you spotted the tray you had left him for lunch.

You hesitated on the room’s threshold, your husband’s warnings to never step foot in his office ringing in your ears. After a brief mental war with yourself, you finally slipped inside, quickly and silently heading in the direction of his desk.

You picked up the tray, and before you could look away papers resting beneath the tray caught your attention.

“Oh my god — ”

You let out a gasp, the tray slipping from your grasp and crashing to the floor, the sound deafening in the still silence. Face up on your husband’s desk, beneath the tray, was a photograph of a young man. His face and body had been badly mutilated, and the sight made you sick.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from the photo, instead meeting your husband’s steely gaze. The body was pushed to the back of your mind, your heart beginning to race for an entirely different reason.

“I saw the door ajar and just wanted to get your lunch tray,” you stammered, cowering beneath his gaze.

He’s silent, staring at you unnervingly before, “Get out.”

You were all too eager to obey, quickly scrambling in the direction of the door. The entire way you felt your husband’s burning gaze, and you had just passed him when his hand shot out, gripping your arm painfully tight. He leaned down, his lips hovering above your ear and sending shivers down your spine.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N,” he says, words causing your heart to feel as though it has stopped and your stomach to drop out from beneath you. “Be careful of where you look, or else you’ll end up like him.”

You ate dinner alone that night.

Now

“Oh my god.”

You barely register as your legs give out beneath you, weak beneath Jungkook’s menacing gaze as the missing piece to Jungkook’s identification that had been nagging at you ever since you had first seen him finally clicks into place.

Before you had suppressed it, you had wondered why your husband had that picture on his desk. Now, everything clicks.

Your husband had been responsible for Jungkook’s death.

You had never been a violent person, and the sheer gore that you had seen from the photographs had caused you to repress that memory. Now, it is vivid and fresh in your mind, and you shake your head furiously as if that will cause the memory to dissipate.

“It’s not my fault,” you insist, staring into Jungkook’s burning gaze pleadingly. “I’m sorry for my husband’s actions, but — ”

“Shut up,” Jungkook hisses, and suddenly he is in front of you, hand against your windpipe. Your breath hitches in fear, and you swear you see a gleam of satisfaction deep within his dark orbs. “You could’ve done something to stop him.”

“I didn’t know what he was up to, I promise,” you sob, vision blurring with tears. Jungkook coos at the sight, gently stroking the bottom of your chin with his thumb. His touch feels as though it burns against your skin, and you flinch.

“Shh, baby.” Jungkook leans forward until his mouth is against your ear. The moment feels strangely intimate, and his breath sends shivers down your spine, just serving to heighten your fear. Every muscle within your body is tense.

“Your therapist was wrong about me, you know,” Jungkook chuckles, the sound sending warning bells signaling throughout your head. “Monsters do exist.”

His hand suddenly tightens, and you choke as your air supply begins to dwindle. The world around you begins to spin, and as everything fades into darkness you hear Jungkook’s voice one more time.

“I can’t wait to break you.”

You gasp awake, heart pounding. You sit up in bed, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. As you piece together the details from your nightmare, your hands quickly fly to your throat, gently pressing against it where Jungkook’s hands were. You wince, and you quickly shove your covers aside, flipping on your bedside lamp and stumbling into your bathroom.

When you flip on the switch, you are greeted by a ring of purple and grey bruises around your throat. Your eyes widen in horror as the realization that it wasn’t a nightmare crashes down upon you.

And that’s when you hear it.

The pounding on the door.

[randomfandomimagine]

Love’s Worth Running To. Chapter 5: Hero Work

Pairing: Barry Allen x Stephanie Williams (OFC)

Fandom: Justice League / DCEU

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AO3

A/N: Another chapter! I think this one as very interesting stuff, and it’s finally starting to move on to my favorite part of the story, I can’t wait to post the few next chapters!

Also, and as always, remember to give this some love! Please reblog and leave feedback if you’re liking it, it would help me out a lot and it’d mean the world to me!! 🙏 Thank you so much to everyone that’s supporting this series 🥰💜

With the excuse that she needs to face it sooner or later, Stephanie starts trying out her powers. She promises herself that it means nothing, only a way to ensure they won’t become something dangerous because she can’t control them. It doesn’t mean she will recklessly go out trying to be Wonder Woman. But the improvised hero outfit still lays on the ground. She hasn’t put it away. Keeps glancing at it.

Meanwhile, as her eyes are fixed on the costume, a light crackle of electricity hovers over her palm. Stephanie sighs and focuses her attention on it, watching how the small force field slowly grows. The semi-transparent sphere, at first as small as marble, has reached the size of a football ball now.

Stephanie tells herself that big progress has been made, as at least she is now in control of it even if the force field isn’t big enough to really protect anyone. Its surface is also irregular and unstable. She grits her teeth, frowning in confusion, but the very best she can do is maintain the current state of the force field.

“Ah!” Stephanie suddenly yelps when her phone buzzes. The force field in her hand crackles, creating a mild disturbance in the air, before completely fading.

Promising to keep working on her newfound abilities after checking her phone, she picks the device up and looks at the screen. Her heart halts in anticipation as she reads the text. It’s from Ben.

While it isn’t the person she was expecting, it still warms her heart that Ben is reaching out and checking on her. For that reason, she proceeds to read the message and a small smile finds its way to her lips when she does.

Good morning, Stephanie! How are you feeling? I hope you’re well and recovered. There is no rush to return to work, but I must insist that you rest and properly look after yourself. I’m your boss, so you have to do as I say.

Best regards, Ben.

Stephanie chuckles, endeared by his thoughtful message and amused by the fact that he signed it like he would a written letter... despite the fact that the phone already showcases the sender. Grinning, she starts typing to reply to him.

You may be the man in charge for the project, but shall I remind you that you’re not my boss?

Best regards, Stephanie.

However, and despite the lighthearted interaction, a void settles in her chest.

For a moment, Stephanie had hoped it was Barry contacting her, only to remember that she had been ignoring his many calls and messages. He has probably given up on talking to her, figuring she will do so when she feels comfortable with it. And she misses him. For that reason, she dials his number while Ben types back.

Barry takes a few rings to answer, but when he does his warm and familiar voice is filled with excitement. It makes Stephanie smile as soon as she hears it.

“Steph?!” He answers. “Oh my gosh, hi! How are you feeling?”

“Hi, Barry” The girl can’t stop smiling now, while at the same time wondering how she had survived so many days without him. “I’m feeling better, thank you”

“That’s great, I’m so glad to hear it!” He sighed from the other end, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Um… did you need anything? Or did you just call to chat?”

“Well…” Stephanie awkwardly chuckles, feeling embarrassed for isolating herself. But now that she has her powers mostly under control after that long week, she feels like she can talk to him again. “Actually, I wanted to apologize… I know I’ve been very distant, but…”

“Hey, no” He gently interrupts her. “Steph, you don’t have to apologize, don’t say a word. I understand that you needed some time, anyone would after what you went through!”

Stephanie pauses for a moment while the nerves suddenly stir in her stomach. In the end, noticing his silence as well, she pipes up once more.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Barry”

“I’m always gonna worry about you”

She smiles to herself, knowing that he means that in the best way possible. The nerves disappear, replaced with a wave of warmth that fills her. Suddenly, all those negative emotions she has been experiencing for days are gone. All thanks to his magic.

“Listen, I’m in a hurry. I’m so sorry, I really can’t talk more” Barry mumbles. “But, uh... how ‘bout we meet this evening? I’ll take it easy on you, I promise, I just want to hang out with you for a bit”

“Sure” Stephanie chuckles. “I’d love that”

“Cool!” She hears him happily chuckle as well. “Pick you up at 7?”

“Yeah, see you later” And Stephanie hangs up, unable to erase the smile from her face.

_

When Barry arrives to the place of reunion, he heaves a big sigh. The sky suddenly looks bluer, the birds are singing louder and the sun shines brighter. Everything is okay.

“There you are” Clark pats his shoulder, warning him of the team’s presence. They had been waiting for him. “How can a speedster like you be late?”

“Right, sorry about that” Barry grins instead of taking his words as a scolding.

“You look happy…” Diana tells Barry, kindly nudging him a little.

“Yeah, well” The boy suddenly feels slightly flustered by everyone’s gazes on him. “I talked to Steph”

“Your friend?” Bruce pipes up, the hint of a smile peeking in the corner of his lips. “We told you she just needed some time”

“She doing okay?” Arthur asked, frowning slightly in concern.

“Yeah, she’s fine… she’s fine” Barry sighs like that again, feeling lighter. “Phew, it was such a relief”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Barry” Victor gravely tells him. “But we have work to do”

“You’re right, I know” The boy nods to himself. “I’m ready, let’s go”

The silence settles for a moment. Overlooking the city from their high spot at the top of the skyscraper, the six pensively observe the atmosphere beneath their feet. There is the usual busy sound of traffic, of the crowd’s murmuring and the occasional ambulance or police cars sirens in the distance. Other than that, there are no signs of an imminent threat.

“What are we doing here again?” Arthur pipes up. “Everything seems calm”

“Too calm” Bruce grimly replies, glancing at the rest. “I know something’s wrong”

“I can feel it too” Victor adds. “The electric devices feel erratic, like a virus is slowly poisoning the city”

“What we can do about it?” Diana stares at the cyborg, whose eyes are fixed on the city underneath.

“Can you do something to stop that virus?” Barry suggests to him. “Get into their systems or something?”

“I can’t” Victor gravely says, locking eyes with the speedster. “That’s how I know something’s wrong”

“I can feel it too” Clark admits. There are no traces of his usual smile. “Maybe it’s just an intuition, but-”

Before he can even finish his sentence, a loud ruckus startles them all. Something has changed right under their field of vision. An automated train, moving on its own and filled with thousands of innocent passengers, is violently wavering and making the people inside it scream and panic. It moves at a vertiginous speed. More strange noises ensure that the train isn’t the only electronic device malfunctioning there.

“You wouldn’t be doing that, by any chance?” Barry asks Victor, who slowly shakes his head.

As on cue, everyone moves at his denial. The six seem synchronized as they throw themselves down the rooftop. Diana uses her lasso to soar through the air, Bruce glides with his cape and Barry speeds leaving behind a faint blue tail. Clark flies, followed by Victor with his propellers, and Arthur throws his trident and rides it like a surf board.

In the blink of an eye, the six have landed on top of the train. More panicked screams fill the interior with the loud thud of their landing. They struggle to maintain balance in the speeding train. Moving quickly, Clark tears the metallic top of the train open and so everyone drops to the inside.

“Please stay calm” He kindly says to the terrorized passengers.

“We’re here to help” Bruce assures them with his deep voice.

“We’re saved!” A blond woman exclaims. “It’s Superman!”

“And Wonder Woman!”

“And The Batman!”

Although a warm welcome, the Justice League focuses on the mission ahead: saving those people. They exchange quick glances between them and get to work. There is no time to lose.

“Barry” Bruce lowly tells him. “Get rid of all the electronic devices as soon as possible”

“Before they overheat and explode” Victor urges him, his red eye seeming to recognize the extent of the danger they present. “They’re malfunctioning just like the train”

“Copy that!” And with that, the speedster is gone in the blink of an eye. With shocked gasps, the people find that their phones, tablets and any other electronic devices are taken from them. Some explode as soon as they’re thrown out the window, causing an even further outrage.

“I’ll try to stop the train” Victor closes his eyes, focusing his mind on the electric system.

“I’ll do that too” Clark nods, helping the cyborg by flying to the front of the vehicle. As soon as he disappears, the train produces a strident creaking as it drags along the rails. Carefully. Very slowly, it starts losing speed. He can’t risk harming the people inside with a violent halt.

“We’ll get the people safely off” Diana taps Bruce, who doesn’t lose one second to go with her.

“And I’ll help you out” Arthur throws his trident to the doors, breaking through them to allow them an exit.

Soon after, Barry has returned and instantly goes with Diana, Bruce and Arthur to help them move the passengers out of the speeding train. Clark seems to continue his part of the rescue, because it loses speed by the second. Slow and safely.

While Arthur breaks open all the doors he can to create more exits, the rest gets ahold of as many people as possible. The train hasn’t quite stopped yet. Bruce carries three grown men, using his grappling hook to swing to safety. Diana has picked up a group of four children while Barry puts their parents to safety. Perhaps they can’t quite understand and solve what is happening in the city yet, but in the meantime they can always protect the people.

_

Seven o’clock can’t come soon enough. Time passes slowly, and Stephanie’s eyes keep landing on the discarded outfit on the ground. She bites her lip. Knowing she is meeting Barry later seems to fill her with courage. Hope. Maybe she can be like their heroes, like Wonder Woman and Superman. At the very least, she can try.

“Maybe I’ll just try it on…” She mumbles, trying to get rid of her impatient energy, and as though they outfit would have changed sizes during those few days she hasn’t touched it.

Telling herself that it’s only a way to stay distracted and busy while she waits for Barry to arrive, although that isn’t for two more hours, Stephanie gets changed. The tight leggings slip on easily, like a second skin, like they’re the right thing to wear. After she puts on the tank top as well, she stands before the mirror once more. The same sense of excitement and wonder settle in her stomach, taking the form of butterflies that take flight inside it.

The look is almost complete. Just when she is applying the eye shadow like the other day, a sound interrupts her. Several police cars pass by her apartment at top speed, illuminating the streets with their blue light. A test. A call to adventure. Will she answer?

“I can do it” She whispers to herself. “I want to help, I can do it”

Anxious as the police cars wail in the distance, Stephanie nods in resolution. After such a long time of inactivity, her muscles complain at the sudden energy bursts. Ignoring the light aching of her body, Stephanie runs. She leaves her apartment, leaves behind her building and runs in the direction the police cars took. After days if inactivity, she feels alive again. Her lungs urgently fill with air, her heart begins beating so fast that it throbs in her ears.

Stephanie doesn’t stop running, chasing the call to heroism and smiling widely.

_

She gasps for air as she watches the scene before her in confusion. The streets are total chaos. Even the few policemen that have stayed seem to have lost their minds. All the people, from ordinary bystanders, to service workers that have left their establishments, are running aimlessly and screaming in a panic.

“HEEEELP!!! He will kill us all!!” A shrieking voice gathers her attention upwards. A man is teetering at the very edge of a ledge, at the top of a building. He seems about to jump. Stephanie can’t get there in time to save him. Where is the Justice League when you need it?!

Trying to make herself audible among the shouting of the panicked people around her, she focuses on the man whose life is in immediate danger.

“Stay where you are!” She shouts at him, but he only dedicates her an absent glance.

Stephanie frantically looks around, searching for something that can help her. Nothing of use is in sight. What can she do? An idea suddenly pops up in her brain. Wiggling her fingers, she tries to create a force field around herself. If it’s stable enough, maybe it can lift her off the ground and transport her to him.

But it’s all for naught. It’s too late. Her heart skips a beat.

The man has walked off the ledge.

“NO!” Stephanie screams, so violently that she hurts her throat.

On an instinct, she reaches out in his direction despite the big distance that separates them. Her head fills with uneasy thoughts, all of which are focused on helping him. Saving him! Her first attempt can’t end like that, she needs to do something!

Just as the man is about to step into the air and commence a free fall of several stories high, a bubble creates around him. The man gasps, suspended in the air by a wavering force field.

Realizing it is her doing, Stephanie clenches her jaw and focuses all her might on it. Although it quakes with her effort, the bubble carefully glides downwards until it touches the pavement. As soon as it does, the man looks around in a daze and begins to walk away.

Stephanie finds that such small deed was too great for her. All her energies abandon her and she suddenly falls to the ground. She sits there helplessly. Her heart has recovered that unforgiving pace and she breathes heavily again, even worse than after her dash.

In a daze, feeling how her brain slowly fills with fog, Stephanie watches the scene. Two men are fighting close to her, shouting as they’re convinced the other is a threat. A woman and her baby run aimlessly, wailing as each make more noise than the previous. All around her reigns absolute chaos. Panic. Terror. The reason? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t understand.

A man runs for his life, anxiously looking over his shoulder as though something or someone is chasing him. Stephanie can’t see anything behind the man. Just as he passes her by, she weakly holds on to the leg of his pants.

“Sir, sir!!” She calls out, trying to get through to him. Fighting his panic, he nervously turns to her. “What is happening?!”

“T-The scarecrow!” The man gulps. “We’re all going to die!”

And with that her breaks free from her grasp with one simple jerking motion and continues on his escape from an invisible foe.

Stephanie frowns under her eye mask. There are no signs of any scarecrow, and even if it was… what would a scarecrow be doing in a city? Why would an inanimate object be a threat? These people seem to be frightened of an imaginary foe. The only thing different aside from the panicked people is a strange ambiance. Although slightly similar to the way her force fields change the air, this once it feels heavy. There is a mild odor of something burning, like popcorn that has been on the microwave for too long.

But… there is no fire. Stephanie suddenly gets an urge to leave. She makes to stand up, but she remains too weak to move. Anguish overcomes her. Something is happening in that place, something that she cannot comprehend but that is starting to take over her too.

She doesn’t know what, but something is wrong. Something is about to happen. Something bad. Something terrible. She can’t stop thinking about it. A feeling of dread overpowers any other rational thoughts. Now Stephanie understands how all those people feel. Panicked She does too.

Her eyes frantically travel all around her, expecting hidden enemies in every corner. Her powers are useless, even if she could use them. She can’t protect herself, or anyone else.

Static-like void fills her brain, causing her to push her hands against her ears when it feels like her head is about to explode. Her temples throb. Her heart thumps. Her breathing quickens.

Just as she feels herself about to completely lose control, a figure appears in front of her as though it has fallen from the heavens. Stephanie yelps and whimpers, shielding her face with her hands and leaning backwards to get away.

“Hey” A deep dark voice approaches her. “You okay?”

Stephanie dares to peek through her fingers, only becoming more frightened when she actually sees the person… the… creature? It looks like a man, but her panicked mind can only see an enormous bat standing on two legs with its wings wide open.

“Ah!” She screams, so the figure folds the wings and cautiously approaches her. She still doesn’t trust him. “Please don’t hurt me!”

He can hurt her. He will. Anyone can. Anyone will.

“I’m not going to hurt you” He slowly crouches down to be at eye level with her. She can see his worried brown eyes through the mask that covers his features. “Look at me”

“You’re… you’re…” The world seems to spin around her, and Stephanie is out of breath. “You’re The Batman”

“That’s right, I’m here to help” He reminds her, offering her his hand. “What’s going on?”

Stephanie gulps as he pulls her to her feet. It comes to her attention that he looks her up and down, reminding her of the outfit she’s wearing. A hero… she failed. The reason why she went there on the first place was because she wanted to help those people, but… reality becomes a little more stable as she realizes… not even the police stuck around.

“Can you hear me?” The Batman tries again. “What is happening?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know” All her thoughts are scrambled, too fast to stop as they slip through her lips. “Something… is wrong… I can’t explain it...”

A sudden urge to cry causes her to stare at him, begging for help. Maybe he knows what strange occurrence takes place in that street, or how to stop it, or how to end it. He doesn’t seem to, but his eyes are filled with compassion.

“I assume you wanted to help, but you can go” He tells her, supporting her as she feels herself swaying. “Don’t worry, everything will be alright”

Stephanie slowly nods, taking a deep breath and making an effort to fight through that strange trance of terror. No one has attacked her yet, despite her irrational conviction that they would.

“Go, get to safety” The Batman insists, gently letting go of her. “I’ll take care of this”

She opens her mouth. To warn him. He doesn’t know. Since he has just arrived, he has no idea what he will soon experience. But Stephanie can’t speak up. She barely has the strength to stand.

Stumbling and in a daze, she takes a step. She needs to get away from there, breathe a different air. Clean air, not contaminated with whatever is hurting her so. For that reason, she takes another step. And then another. Little by little, she gets away from there. The safety of her home has never felt so distant.

_

When she wakes up, Stephanie can barely remember how she clumsily plopped on the bed and fell asleep. She had nightmares that are impossible to remember. The fact that she is still wearing her hero outfit is proof that it really happened. She still feels feverish and exhausted from her attempt. Something out of the ordinary was happening there. She can only hope The Batman helped those people, and that he himself was safe after all of that.

Remembering she is supposed to meet Barry when he texts her a quick ‘omw’ that lets her know he will arrive soon, Stephanie gets up. She gets changed and stumbles through her own house as though the ground is shaking under her feet.

Her mind seems to clear up as the minutes pass. When she is done getting ready, she goes to the door where she is supposed to meet Barry. He isn’t there yet. At least, her thoughts feel more coherent and ordered now.

Even after that strange effect has passed, adark feeling stays with Stephanie, like a black cloud that stays with her. At first she assumed it was the rare burst of adrenaline traveling through her veins. Now she’s not so sure. Her heart hasn’t stopped beating erratically ever since then, and although there is no more danger she feels on edge. Frightened. She wonders if she really wasn’t as brave as she though she was, or that she abused her still recovering body too much, or if the experience was too harrowing to easily leave behind. Whatever the case, a sudden presence forces her away from those thoughts.

“Hi!” Barry jumps into place in front of her, bearing a wide grin that seems to brighten up the subtle darkness that has clouded her heart. “I’m here”

“You’re late again” The girl only says, even if she’s already smiling. Barry’s feeling has a healing effect that cures her lingering restlessness.

“I know, I’m so sorry” He dramatically sighs, although he does look a little tired. “Busy day”

“What did you do today?” Stephanie asks, trying to start a conversation while at the same time distract herself from her unease.

“Uh….. you know...” Barry shrugs. “Run around, do some errands, save the world…”

Stephanie laughs out loud at his joke, and he grins widely in return. However, the gesture vanishes from his face immediately after. He is staring at her with his brow knitted in concern.

“Steph, you look pale…” He whispers, rubbing her arm. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah” She chuckles, internally panicking at the mere thought of him finding out about her powers and her little adventure. “I just… went for a walk to kill time… Guess I’m a little tired”

Barry pauses. She can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He is about to tell her that she should rest and take it easy, but he doesn’t. Instead, he dedicates her his best encouraging smile.

“I’m gonna spoil you today” His hand lingers on her arm. “You’re still recovering and you deserve to be spoiled”

“So it was a trap” Stephanie smirks, playfully rolling her eyes at him. “I should have known”

“There’s no escaping now” Barry offers her his arm, which she links with his. He then playfully arches his eyebrows. “Shall we?”

The pair smile at each other as they begin to walk. Barry immediately goes on about what they can do. They can get some snacks and take a little walk. Since she’s been locked inside for so long he wants her to get some air, but he’s stern on letting her rest, so maybe they should sit at a terrace. She doesn’t care what the plan is, she’s just happy to be with him. His presence is reassuring, silently reminding Stephanie that there is nothing to fear.

_

It has returned. That feeling of dread, of imminent danger. It isn’t nearly as strong as before, it merely feels like a shadow of its former self. Nonetheless, it is barely enough to make even breathing exhausting. Stephanie can’t focus.

Night is slowly falling as the sky turns a slightly darker shade of blue. It has orange and purple tinges as the last traces of the sunset erase from the horizon. The early night breeze envelops them, gentle like a caress.

Barry has been talking almost all evening, but Stephanie is no longer answering him. She is absently playing with the paper that the hot dogs they ate came in.

“What do you say?” Barry is saying then, but she’s not listening. “Steph?”

Stephanie is so out of it that she can’t answer. She grits her teeth, trying not to wince, when her temples begin throbbing. Her entire body is giving her signals. All she wants to do is rest. Sleep. Sleep for a really long time.

“Steph” He sternly calls her, taking her free hand when she feebly leans on him. “W-What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” She gulps, avoiding his gaze as she lowers her head in the hopes that the stillness can level her dizziness. “Just got a bit light-headed”

“You sure you’re okay?” When she doesn’t answer, he continues. His voice carries a hint of panic. “You’re still recovering, maybe you should have stayed-”

“I’m okay” She rushes to say, trying her best to smile at him. “Just a bit tired”

“Steph, you almost died not that long ago” Barry gravely says, subtly sinking his fingers into her arm. “And you don’t look so good”

“Barry” She begins to say, tiredly tilting her head as she peers at him. Her vision blurs, but she tries to fight through her unwell. “I’m just… a bit weak…”

He doesn’t reply, only furrowing his brow and feeling a pang of concern in his chest. He had been scared enough to find her after the accident, it only makes it worse to see her in that state still. He doesn’t think he could take the idea of her not being alright.

“And…” Stephanie gulps, wobbling slightly. “V-Very dizzy…”

Barry wraps an arm around her. His heart is racing in unease. Just as he supports her, Stephanie falters. The breath hitches in his throat as he tightens his hold on her and presses her against his side.

“Steph?!” His voice breaks as the concern completely takes over him.

For a few seconds she doesn’t reply, only limply lying against him. Memories of finding her after the accident return to Barry, and he grimaces at the mental image. Luckily, she reacts in time to pull him out of those dark thoughts.

“I’m… okay…” She tells him in a daze, voice weak.

Still firmly holding on to her, he presses his free hand against her forehead. Stephanie’s skin feels warm, confirming his suspicions that she was still sick.

“I’m taking you home” Barry states. “No buts, you need to rest”

Stephanie babbles, opening and closing her mouth. If only he knew the true reason behind her state. But he can never know. In any case, she doesn’t feel lucid enough to speak. The mere idea that she has a secret identity feels far too surreal at the moment, even to herself.

“Can you walk?” Barry tenderly moves the hair away from her face, trying to take a good look at her. She only shakes her head, frowning as she tiredly puts her head on his shoulder. “Okay, up you go”

Straining a little, he grunts as he sweeps her off the floor and into his arms. Stephanie suddenly feels incredibly safe and comfortable in his embrace, and the deep unwell lessen slightly.

“You’re strong…” She chuckles, and she briefly wonders why she’s tilted to the side even though her head is still resting against his shoulder.

“See? You’re clearly delirious” They peer at each other for a moment.

The slight motion of picking her head off his shoulder sends a wave of vertigo through her. She whimpers, closing her eyes tight and gingerly resting her head on his shoulder again. Then, a sudden change of position startles her. When she opens her eyes, they are already at her place. Baffled, she feebly glances around. A moment ago they were… and now… she must be really delirious...

“We’re here” Barry carries her inside. “Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

“No, I just…” She starts to say, but her voice then becomes urgent. “Put me down”

Confused, Barry does as she says. When she is on her feet again, Stephanie presses her hands over her mouth. The wave of nausea soon passes, much to her relief. However, everything else does too.

Barry exclaims as he throw himself forward to catch her. Stephanie drops down, falling limply to the ground. His arms break her fall and he nervously scoops her into them again.

“Oh my gosh…” He mumbles as he rushes her to the bed. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh…”

He shakily sighs to himself as he carefully lies her down. The girl’s arms stay locked around his neck even when he lets go of her. Barry stops to intently watch her. She now looks peaceful, as though she badly needed that rest. She’s resting, he tells himself. Yeah, just resting. Her chest softly moves up and down with her calm breathing.

“She’s okay” Barry assures himself, although he begins pacing up and down her room.

Thousands of terrible thoughts battle in his brain. She’s sick again. She hasn’t recovered. She’s dying. The accident was too much for her, she will never fully recover.

“Okay, calm down, Barry” He takes a deep breath, even if he still paces. “She’s fine, she’s gonna be alright”

He tells himself that all those thoughts are lies. They are just fears, not reality. Interrupting himself, Barry stops and looks at her again. Stephanie lies motionlessly in the bed. She is still pale, but she doesn’t look terribly sick. He sighs and resumes his pacing.

“She’s not as bad as she was in the hospital” Barry whispers, trying not to wake her. “She looked much worse then. Besides, Steph’s strong, she’ll be fine, she’ll be-”

Barry’s phone rings, startling him so much that he yelps and jumps in place.

“H-Hello?”

“Barry?”

The boy finally quits his pacing for good. His hand flies to his forehead. He had totally forgotten he was supposed to return to the Batcave after being with Steph. Things had seemed to gotten worse. After their rescue on the train, panic had seemed to reign on the streets for several hours. There was no explanation, but they knew it had something to do with the rest of strange events. And maybe a villain was behind it all.

But now… Stephanie needs him. She is sick. Now he can’t leave her.

“Bruce! I’m so sorry” Barry rapidly says. “I know I should be there, but Steph got really sick and…”

“Is she alright?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah… I think so…”

“And you?”

“I’m fine, I just got scared…” He sighs, settling his nerves. “Really freaking scared”

“So you can’t make it?” Bruce asks him, but at least Barry is relieved that there is no anger or annoyance in his voice.

“I’m afraid not… I’m really sorry, I just…”

“I understand” The man replies. “But we have to check that out”

“Sure, yeah!” Barry nervously ruffles his own hair. “You guys be careful out there, okay?”

“We will” Bruce gently says. “Take care of your friend”

“Yeah” The boy absently hangs up, turning to her once more. She is now lying over her side, having turned slightly in her sleep.

Barry watches her, wondering how he can contain such an immense amount of fondness for her. Just the sight of her pale face was enough to break his heart. If he could, he would hold her tight and never let go, protect her from everything.

When he slowly walks closer to her, a board of the wooden floor creaks. Barry freezes, but it’s too late. Stephanie groggily turns around, opening her eyes moving her head to look around her.

“Barry?” She mumbles, looking around, disoriented. “What…?”

What is Barry doing there with her? However, she quickly forgets about him when her eyes fall on the window. It’s almost dawn. An alarm blasts in her head as her usual routine occupies all her thoughts. She needs to get ready!

"I gotta go to work!" Stephanie makes to stand from the bed, but Barry is faster. He pushes her by the shoulders and forces her to lie down again.

"What?” He exclaims, feeling that anguish that he had just gotten rid of creeping up again. “Are you… are you serious?"

"Barry, I’m gonna be late! Our investigation is very important, it will help so many-"

“Oh my gosh, Steph!” He exclaims, in a surprisingly loud and exasperated voice that instantly silences her in astonishment. “Can you stop thinking about everyone else and take care of yourself for one minute?! Don’t you remember what happened to you?!”

And suddenly, with his words, Stephanie does remember. The accident, the hospital, the heroic attempt, the inexplicable dread in the air… Everything. She relaxes, forgetting about work. She now remembers she hasn’t gone to the lab in a week. But it’s too late for Barry.

Stephanie gawks at him, having no words to retaliate. His sudden outburst is so unexpected that she is utterly speechless. A second after he finishes his sentence, however, his eyes widen in surprise as well. They silently stare at each other.

“I’m so sorry” He utters, averting his gaze in shame. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I just…”

“You’re right… I just got a little disoriented” Stephanie reaches out to delicately take his hand, which he reluctantly allows. “I’m going to lie down, okay?”

The boy nods his head, and he doesn’t move at first even as she insists. When Stephanie tugs at his fingers, he starts to move slowly. Barry turns, hesitantly facing her. Stephanie only pulls a little harder, inviting to sit with her as she returns to her previous spot. Exhaling all the anguish in a shaky breath, Barry joins her in the bed.

No more words are spoken for several seconds. Stephanie doesn’t let go of Barry’s hand. His eyes are watery. Even as he looks away again, she knows, and that is why she tugs at him until they’re both lying down. Resting on their sides, they’re now facing each other. They just rest there for a moment, letting all the tension in the air to vanish and lingering on their positions until Stephanie’s soft voice breaks the silence.

“Are you okay, Barry?”

“Yeah...” He takes a deep breath in. “Just a little shaky”

“I’m sorry…” She mutters, and her hand is delicately pressing against his cheek before she can stop herself. “I really hate to worry you”

“You can’t scare me like that again, okay? Ever” Barry replies, taking her hand off his face and clutching it between both his palms. “Just when I thought you were out of danger you faint on me like that and…”

“I’m okay, Barry” Stephanie assures, chuckling a little when his eyes fall upon hers in a skeptical manner. “I’m better now, really, I just need some rest”

“I can assure you, you’re getting some rest” Remnants of that exasperated tone linger in his voice. “I’m making sure you get some sleep even if I have to lie all day here with you!”

“Is that a threat?” She tenderly smiles, and the callback causes Barry to chuckle.

He pauses, taking a moment to sigh and calm himself.

“Are you really feeling okay?” He lovingly presses her hand against his chest. His heart is drumming underneath it. “Don’t lie to me, Steph, I’ll know”

“I am, I promise” Stephanie snuggles closer to him, embracing his warmth and comforting presence. “Just a little tired”

“What happened to you?” He whispers in concern, even if his arm automatically falls over her frame. “I thought you had rested a lot, that you were recovered. Did I overdo it today? I really tried to…”

“No, no, it’s not that” The girl locks eyes with him, biting her lip as she wonders if she should tell him. In the end she partially does, thinking that he doesn’t need to know the true reason behind her little adventure. “When I went for that walk earlier I… I don’t know… Something affected me… It was like the air was contaminated… It made me feel scared and horrible”

“What was it?”

“I have no idea… I just know there’s something strange going on in this city”

“Yeah, I know…” Barry somberly mutters. After a brief pause, he feels his shoulders relaxing the closer she is. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll watch over you”

Stephanie breathes in, just at the same time that Barry does, and peacefully exhales with him. She hasn’t been feeling safe ever since that awful experience from before. Now, next to Barry and enveloped by his arms, she feels the safest she’s ever been.

Tag list: @scared-to-be-lonely345​​ / @ocfairygodmother​ // Ask to be added to be notified when I post for this series!!

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic (Ch. 5)

Ch. 5: The Right Thing

First two chapters

Previous (Ch. 4)

The afternoon was better described as crisp than frosty. Signs that spring was approaching appeared in the cloudless sky and dissolving frost. The sun sat high up in the sky, indicative of the slowly lengthening days. Amy would have insisted on taking the scenic route to reach Tails’ lab, but feared the tape holding Metal Sonic’s foot in place wouldn’t hold up in the sloshing snow. Flying up the hill appeared to be the safest option.

The pair repeated yesterday’s maneuver of having Amy attach herself to Metal’s back. This time, however, there was the added challenge of navigating as the cold wind stung her eyes. The windchill they experienced in the significantly colder air blew through the lighter coat she’d chosen to wear due to the lack of frost. Amy began shivering.

Less than a minute later, she could begin to feel the warmth building up in Metal’s body again. He also slowed down to walking speed in the air to allow her to open her eyes. Metal’s back felt toasty against her and she could feel her tense shoulders relax a bit. She sighed in relief. “Hey, are you doing this on purpose?” she wondered aloud.

Metal sort of shrugged his shoulder, not wanting to disturb Amy’s grip around his neck. It did take a bit more energy and the warming feature was probably reserved for times much more frigid than this, but the trip was short. After all, she had given him some comfort, so why not return the favor?

“Well, thanks.” Amy leaned her head over his back, resting a cheek on his satin-clad shoulder to get a better look at the landscape. They were far higher off the ground that was necessary by the time she noticed. “Head down there,” she pointed. They descended much slower this time, and by the time they landed near the entrance, it had taken longer than if they’d just walked. The view as they approached, however, trumped that of even her regular scenic route. 

Amy and Metal walked toward the entrance, but the door swung wide open before she could get near the doorbell. “What are you doing?” Tails peeked his head out the door to take a nervous look around. “Get inside.”

Amy scoffed. “Nice to see you, too.”

The door slammed shut behind them automatically. Tails was already most of the way down the hall when he took a sharp turn into a door to the left. 

What’s eating him? Amy followed the boy with Metal Sonic limping close behind. They turned into his sprawling laboratory, where Tails stood behind a series of screens. “Tails? You alright?”

He looked up from his command center nervously. “Did anyone see you?”

“How should I know?”

“Amy, if anyone finds out-”

“What, Tails? They’re gonna reprimand me?” she rolled her eyes.

Tails grumbled. He didn’t want to say too much in front of Metal Sonic for fear of jogging its memory. But what if Eggman had spotted them? Surely he must be looking for his weapon by now. And if anyone else on the team had seen the two of them flying around it could have been mistaken for another hostage situation. Tails pointed directly at the robot. “Go sit on that table over there.”

Amy followed Metal as he sat on the cold bench. It looked like an operating table, surrounded by a tangled web of wires and machinery. She was nervous for him. Amy trusted that Tails would know what to do but worried that his fear of Metal Sonic would cloud his intentions. 

Tails mashed the keys on his computer aggressively with his one functioning hand. “Amy, I need you to come over here.”

She looked back at her steely companion. Amy flashed a smile and placed her hand briefly on Metal’s shoulder. “You’ll be fixed in no time,” she reassured before joining Tails behind his small command center.

A few keystrokes later, a sheer green forcefield appeared like a bubble around the table, encapsulating Metal Sonic and several of the nearby machines inside. He looked up at the glowing shield curiously. 

Amy gasped at the sudden appearance of it. “Tails, what’s the shield for?”

“So he can't hear us, or get out.” He turned to his teammate with a huff. “Have you thought this plan out at all? How do you think Sonic is gonna react when he finds out?”

Amy shuffled on her feet nervously. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But look, Cream and I spent some time with him-”

“You got Cream involved?” Tails was raising his voice indignantly.

“She came over and saw him, okay! And it went fine. It’s like they became friends.”

Tails scoffed harshly. “Look, Amy, I know you always want to see the good in everything, but this is dangerous. Even if we get that thing on our side, who’s to say Eggman won’t just capture Metal Sonic and reprogram it again? He’s done it before.”

“We’ll just have to leave a lasting impression, then,” Amy responded matter-of-factly. 

“You can’t be serious…”

“I am! Look, we don’t have to reprogram Metal, he can learn this stuff on his own.” Amy reasoned. “He has real emotions and stuff. I don’t know how to explain it.” She looked through the glowing bubble and met eyes with Metal, who was looking to her inquisitively. He held his severed arm out, turning his head. Amy waved back with a kind smile. “He just needs some friends. I think he’s capable of being good.”

Tails watched their interaction with fascination. It was almost upsetting to see Metal Sonic sitting innocently in his lab after all the strife and injury his team had suffered at the robot’s hands over the years. He looked down at his own broken wrist, ears drooping. “So your plan is to just become roommates with that thing? After everything that’s happened?”

“Look, he needs to decide for himself what he wants. You have to restore his memory.”

Tails glared back at her. “You want him to remember? 

“It doesn’t count if we force him.” Amy gazed at Tails wet eyes, a soft pout spread across her lips. “Wouldn’t you want a second chance?” 

Tails could feel his face becoming hot. “And what if I refuse?”

“Tails, you’re the smartest person I know. You could deactivate Metal if he became a real threat.” Amy’s sweet eyes narrowed.  “But if you don’t help me with this, I’ll find someone who will.”

She could be convincing when she wanted to be- or maybe “manipulative” was the better word. Tails more than understood that Amy was capable of putting herself in harm’s way if she thought it was the right thing to do. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to fix. It could be weeks.” He hesitantly clicked some keys and the forcefield fell away. “I’ll do it, but we have to tell the team. We couldn’t keep it a secret, anyway.”

Amy nodded in agreement. “Thank you. It’ll work, you’ll see.” She turned and jogged back over to Metal, who was irately chiming something at her. “Sorry! Just had to take care of some business first. Relax, we’re gonna fix you now.”

Tails couldn’t believe how nonchalant Amy was being about everything. Metal Sonic had probably caused her the most tauma out of the team, having kidnapped her at a young age. But for however fierce she could be, Amy was pure and forgiving in nature. Tails always thought that was admirable- if a little stupid. He took a deep breath in preparation for what he was about to embark on. 

The boy awkwardly approached Metal Sonic, walking past him to pull some wires from a nearby machine. “So, I guess we’re gonna fix you and try to get your memory back.” He remembered what Amy said about being friendly and struggled to say something polite. “Nice-uh- jacket? Wait, isn’t that Amy’s?”

“It’s Metal’s now. He looks better in it,” she smiled.

“Right. ‘He.’” Tails turned to address Metal Sonic directly. “I’m gonna fix you, but I also want to copy your memory so I can figure out how to restore it. We have to turn you off for that. Understand?”

Metal Sonic looked to Amy for guidance. She seemed to know the boy well, but Metal was unsure that Tails was comfortable repairing him. The boy seemed hesitant. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. If anyone can fix you, it’s Tails,” she reassured.  Metal turned back to Tails and nodded.

“Okay. You should lie back, and you can put the arm down for now.”

Metal Sonic complied. Tails stuck several electromagnetic wires on his head and core. He could see Amy standing back, flashing him a nervous smile. He listened as Tails brought out the same remote he was holding when they met the day before. Metal wasn’t able to catch what he was saying before the lights in his eyes scrambled and went out.

“Metal? Are you awake?” Amy shook his shoulder but the robot didn’t respond. It was eerie seeing him so lifeless now.

“He’s off. Don’t worry about us, I’m going to run some scans and see what I can learn. It’ll take a few hours, so I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

Amy nodded confidently. She knew Tails would do the right thing - and hoped that in the end, Metal Sonic would, too. 

-------

Amy took her time for the rest of the afternoon to run errands. She did some shopping in town and picked up groceries, returning home past sunset. She waited a few more hours for a call back from Tails but was beginning to think he’d keep making repairs overnight. It was nearly 11 PM before she received the call and had to brave the frigid night.

Tails didn’t answer the door personally- it opened on its own by his command. Amy hurried inside to warm up. She found her teammate at the workstation in his lab, magnifying goggles over his eyes. Metal was in the same spot- still off. 

“Hey Amy.” Tails didn’t look up from whatever he was fiddling with.

“Hey. How did it go?” Amy approached the workbench, peering over Tail’s shoulder. He was screwing one of the panels of Metal’s hand shut with the help of a vice to hold it in place. 

“Well, I was able to take a look around his head, but…” Tails flipped up his goggles and met Amy’s eyes. “There’s this sort of firewall there blocking access to a lot of whatever’s in there. And apparently there’s a failsafe, like a protocol in case Metal Sonic lost his memory, but it didn’t work.” He shrugged and scrunched his eyebrows at the mystery.

“Really? What was the protocol?”

“Seems like it was meant to help him navigate back to Eggman’s base for repairs, but his GPS isn’t working either. And that’s another thing- if I fix it, he’ll be trackable.”

“So he’s not right now?”

“Nope. And I don’t think we don’t want him to be.” Tails swiveled his chair to face the robot behind them. “But that doesn’t mean Eggman won’t still come looking…”

Amy scoffed. “He’s left him to rot for months before. He won’t look unless he’s planning something.”

“Let’s he doesn't,” Tails sighed, picking the mechanical hand from the vice and walking it over to Metal’s body. “I’m gonna keep trying to access the memory. It’ll take a while. Oh, and I removed all his weapons for now- just in case.” He fastened Metal’s hand to his forearm, screwing it in place.

“You shouldn’t mess with him like that,” Amy frowned.

“Don’t start- it’s for our own good. Especially if you plan on keeping him around your place.”

“I guess…” Amy was avoiding having to think about it. She wanted to help Metal, but having a long-term house guest in her little home wasn’t exactly in her plans. She struggled to think of another solution. 

Tails finished his work. “Well, what do you think? Not too shabby for one hand, especially considering the number we did on him,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, we really hit him hard, huh? He looks great, though.” Tails had removed the jacket Metal was wearing in order to work on his whole body. The jagged edges around where his left arm had torn off were now smooth and polished. His foot was reattached properly at the ankle. There remained scratches in his paint at the head and other areas he’d sustained damage, but all of his missing pieces were reattached neatly.

“You don’t know the half of it! I need to make more internal repairs. And what was with all the duct tape?”

Amy blushed. “I thought it would help,” she mumbled.

“Well, taking it off was a nightmare. Just leave the repairs to me, okay?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Fine.” 

“Anyway, before I wake him, I think we should agree on something…” Tails rubbed his arm awkwardly.

“What is it?”

“Are you gonna tell him anything about his past? Do you think it’s a good idea?”

Amy peered down at Metal’s body. It didn’t feel right to keep things from him, but if they told him too much he might decide to look for his master. She didn’t want to lose the opportunity, but felt conflicted about hiding the truth. “I’m not gonna tell him, but I can’t lie if he asks,” she decided.

Tails nodded. “Fair, enough, I guess.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to convince her otherwise. “Let’s get it going then.” 

Tails fetched the remote from his desk and stood by Amy. He pressed three buttons in sequence with his thumb. A loud mechanical buzzing filled the otherwise quiet lab before dying down to a whisper. After a few seconds, Metal Sonic’s eyes illuminated. He peered around, spotting Tails first, then shifting his gaze to Amy. His eyes lingered on her.

“Hey, Metal. How do you feel?” Her warm smile and kind eyes shone. Metal was pleasantly surprised to see her looking joyful.

“Can you get up?” he heard Tails ask. Metal Sonic sat up, shifting his legs over the side of the bench with his back to them. Tails circled around to face him, pulling a stand toward him with an attached clipboard. “Great! Try that arm out.” Metal looked to his left. His arm appeared just the same as his right one- no barbed edges or exposed circuitry. He rotated his shoulder backwards, meeting no resistance. Tails took notes, instructing Metal Sonic to bend his arm and each of his fingers, then to rotate his ankle and point his foot. He stood on it without issue and had no problem balancing himself. Everything was operating correctly.

Tails pointed to Metal’s left arm with his pen. “Can you extend it?”

Metal tried to lengthen the telescoping wire, but struggled. After a few seconds, the arm jutted out and fell to the floor limply. He heard Amy’s soft gasp from behind him before she scuttered around front and stood next to Tails.

“Hmm. Thought that might happen. Sorry, I don’t have enough experience with that tech. You’ll have to give me more time.” He scribbled more on his notepad before returning to his computer

Metal was able to reel his arm back into place slowly. He watched it snake on the ground before it reached all the way back into its socket. At that moment, he felt a hand on his and turned upward to meet Amy’s gaze. “I’m sorry that didn’t work, but I’m happy you’re in one piece.” Metal glanced down at his hand. She felt warm. He then looked back to her and did the best impression of a “thank you” that could be sung with mechanical chimes.

“You’re welcome.” They were each surprised to hear her say that. Could she understand him? Amy excitedly laced her fingers with his, giggling at the thought. 

Tails cleared his throat from his desk. “I don’t know what you’re saying thank you for when I fixed him single handedly,” Tails teased.

Amy let go of Metal abruptly, crossing her arms. “I could've helped if you’d let me!”

Tails snickered at this before Amy’s snarl intensified and he found it best to change the subject . “Well if you two are done, I still have to talk to Metal about something. C’mere.”

Amy sauntered behind the multitude of screens with Metal on her heels. What appeared to be x-rays lined the monitors. “This is Metal’s core,” Tails explained. “There’s a huge crack in the armature here. It’ll need welding.”

Amy raised a hand over her mouth at the realization. Her eyebrows curled in guilt. She knew that the damage was from their battle two days earlier; and she had helped Sonic deal the finishing blow. The beam that ran up and down Metal’s head and torso like a spine was cracked in two places. 

“I don’t think I can do it with this cast, so you’ll have to wait a few weeks. II’ll let you know when I’m ready. Oh, and avoid water for now- some snow must have seeped into your system from the cracks and damaged a few things.” Tails explained it all very indifferently. “You’ll be pretty waterproof once I fix it.”

Tails spoke a bit more about the repairs he’d made and what still needed to be done. With his memory, with his body, how he’d refueled the robot and other upkeep. Amy found herself panicking as she listened to the extensive list of things that needed to be done, knowing much of it was on her conscience. Metal noticed her panic, looking from her back to the black and white screen. 

She had to take a deep breath to avoid losing her composure. “Thank you, Tails. I think we should head home.”

Tails let out a yawn and looked at the time. It was close to midnight. He’d spent the day focused on everything but himself, and realized suddenly how hungry and tired he was. “Alright. The jacket’s by the lab door.”

“Hey, make sure you get some rest.” Amy pleaded. Tails had a habit of overworking himself.

He stretched out his arms. “I will.”

Amy went in for a side hug that Tails returned. “I mean it, go to sleep this time,” she smiled.

“Alright, don’t worry,” he chuckled. 

Amy and metal saw themselves out, picking his jacket up from a coat hook by the door. Metal was able to slip it on himself. He thought it felt weird to put on clothes, but was pleased he could do it himself. The pair strode out the front door, Amy bracing herself before crossing the threshold. The opening snapped closed behind them and they took off down the hill. The night was cold but clear. Amy shoved her hands deep into her pockets for warmth. “Let’s take the long way,” she suggested. Metal emulated her by slipping his own hands into the pockets of his thin jacket and nodded. The two strode the short way home quietly, under a dark sky dotted with lustrous stars.

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

Notes: I’m going to start adding the tag “metamy unfamiliar” in case anyone wants to follow it (but I would greatly appreciate a blog follow, too ❤️)

[my-headcanons-academia]

Uraraka friends + friendship hc

• Uraraka isn't "The popular girl" but everyone knows her and she knows everyone because she's soft, comforting and friendly. Also just a people-pleasing extrovert who charges by helping others. I wouldn't be surprised if she knew villains, realises it's them mid-fight and stops everything to talk them down from whatever crime they're doing. And even scarier, the villains listen. • She flirts with her friends endlessly but in a really vanilla way since it's all in good fun and it stays within boundaries, if they flirt back she will get very blushy and her forever-pink cheeks go red, but she doesn't stop, she just ups it while her whole face is blushing until she runs out of things to say and ends up shakily blowing a kiss and winking as she's processing all the nice things said.

• After the Sports Festival she asked Bakugou to spar. She wants to get better and she sees him as a goal, if she can solidly beat him in a fight then she can definitely know she's improved.

And I can easily imagine Bakugou agreeing, he wants to get better too and he respects others wanting to get better too. What he did not expect was she was learning to fight with knives and how stubborn she really is.

Well, he knew she was stubborn at the sports festival, if she could still move, even just barely, then she can still fight. He respects that even more. Both of these bitches need to learn to not push past their limits.

They goad each other so much. Uraraka can be mean when she wants to, saying things that probably aren't true but she knows she'll get a reaction out of it. She is terrified as she says it, but she knows this is what makes it challenging and the challenge is what she's here for. But usually she just says stuff like,

"How did I lose to you before? If you fight like this you have no chance of surpassing even Mineta,"

He is the only one who has seen her swear and no one believes him. It pisses him off exponentially.

• Her love language is quality time but also gift-giving which sucks because she is very poor. She actually becomes friends with Hatsune Mei from the support class as they both like to come up with creative and tailored ways to help individual people and come up with stuff they like!

After they become friends, Mei's latest inventions always have a hint of Uraraka in them, be they pink, somehow more adventurous than anything Mei could come up with on her own, or suspiciously some glitter thrown here and there.

When Mei is building stuff, Uraraka just sits there and listens to her ramble and work, she paints little hello kitty faces on desks, machines and even screws, it's basically her trademark.

• She has multiple alarms on her phone. As well as Iida's "good morning" messages at 5AM, she has alarms for 7am. 7:01am, 7:02am, 7:03am, 7:04am, 7:05am, 7:0- curse living far away so she has to take the train, or she'd be able to sleep in longer. but she always lets Iida know she does appreciate the sentiment. • She absolutely steals from the school cafeteria. Have you seen all that fancy expensive food? She won't steal much, just what she needs and it's the extra food that no one misses. Either she makes a deal with the chef about letting her have some leftovers or the chef would have no idea she's doing it. Even if they noticed some food missing, who's really going to suspect the cute pink bubbly friend-shaped Uraraka? Anyone else who's poor. That's who.

• She's not the mum friend, she's the aunt friend who will make sure everyone is safe and sound before doing something questionably illegal but since it's questionable she can plead ignorance.

• She and Iida get on very well despite being very different. They're both very nice, stubborn, emotional and passionate people yes, but Iida has no idea what the hell she is saying when she quotes memes. She's poor and a teenager, of course she goes to the internet for serotonin

"Uraraka I do not recall locating the barbeque condiment on your chest, what do you mean?"

"who is 'Deez' do I know them? You talk a lot about their nut collection, which is it almonds? peanut?"

"URARAKA THROWING ME THE PRINTER WHEN I ASKED FOR MY LOCKER KEYS IS RECKLESS AND DANGEROUS."

Poor boy went out "on the town" with her and they stopped at Mcdonalds, he looked completely out of place he had no idea what was happening, he just kept looking to Uraraka for guidance why there was a plastic figurine of a character from a recent movie among his food items. • She snorts when she laughs and she used to be really embarrassed by it but one day Mina and Tsuyu heard it while they were hanging out in her room and they found it so adorable they kept making her laugh to try to hear it again. She snorts more now, everyone is happy with this development.

• She has made plans before to mug Iida. In a friendly way of course. She would mug Momo but Momo loves gift giving and gives Uraraka pretty much anything she asks for anyways Momo is called "Sugar-Mommy in Uraraka's contacts. She was planning to mug Shouto before he joined the dekusquad and she found out he has a piece of shit dad and instead steals Enji's credit card.

She pays her bills with Endeavours money.

She also fucks around with it, like orders an entire truckload of All Might merch to be delivered to Endeavour, she changes every password she can, hires people to "re-decorate" Endeavours room to an All-Might-Stans-Fever-Dream and Endeavour was about to hound Shouto about it until he realises he's been inside nearby all day and would never have had a chance to order any of this.

Any money she doesn't spend on her family or herself, she spends on her friends.

• She probably has multiple part-time jobs. She helps her dad at his workplace, floating construction beams when the machines break down and helping where she can. But she doesn't get paid for that.

She does work at a small shop (Lidl is you're British, 7/11 if you're American) by the side of a gas station and she remembers all the employees birthdays and makes them little glittery cards.

• Eventually she works with Tsuyu at a cafe, they actually learn great communication skills there. They make secret signals that mean a certain table needs attention, "this guy is an angry customer, be careful" or someone needs a refill. All of them are of course subtle and it makes them feel like spies with secret missions it's great. These signals carry over into their training too. Everyone, even Aizawa at one point thought they somehow had a telepathic link, that let them know who was behind them or what was a threat the other couldn't have known about, where to go, how quick to go there it was madness.

They also cover each other's shifts without question when they know the other needs the day off. :3

• She makes a point to be soft, it's friendly and approachable, it helps people trust her. Don't get her wrong, she loves cute things, it makes her feel nice and safe, it's familiar and she wants to replicate that feeling, she wants to be able to walk into a room and have people smile because their hearts grow warm. She wants to laugh and giggle and joke with people, she wants to be a walking safe-space people can go to for comfort. She wants to be the hero you go to not only when you're in danger, but when you just need some comfort. She's a rare hero. She's a good one too.

• And when someone makes fun of her for being soft, she can't help but laugh. She apologises for laughing but she finds their ignorance so funny. It takes a lot to be soft and kind, it takes a special kind of person. In this world? In this world villains are a threat to everyone, heroes get corrupt, families are forced out of homes, quirk injustice and discrimination runs rampant, the kids who are too brave, dumb, stupid or desperate for their own good become child-soldiers/heroes, people, good people who try to provide for others the only way they know how, the only way left since legal society won't help them and then get called a villain for it. She's seen it. The fights, the homes destroyed, the families ignored and hushed, the horrible, horrible world. But she won't let that change her.

The world is harsh and cold, that doesn't mean she has to be. She'll be soft in spite of the world, no matter how hard the laws push to divide and destroy and make you rely on them and only them, Uraraka knows the darkness there is in society, in humanity. but more than that she knows she is too stubborn to let that win.

So she enjoys her pink fluffy pillows, enjoys the makeup that she can afford, the sparkly dresses, the cute hairpieces, the hello kitty stationary, her pink rounded hero costume, she'll be friendly to everyone, she'll be nice and kind and thoughtful to everyone, she wants to make the world a safer but also happier place to live in.

Plus when they mistake her kindness for naivety, the best catharsis she gets is when she knocks that smug look off peoples faces for underestimating her..

[sanemreid]

Sevgililer Günü, hesaplaşma. — self para.

( feat. Rachel & Christopher Hawthorne )

With a glass of champagne in hand, Sanem was weaving her way through the crowd of people, every so often stopping for small chatter, or just a quick hello thrown out before continuing on. Truly shed been feeling as though she was on cloud – well 9 didn’t seem like a high enough number at the moment and not simply from the amount of alcohol that was currently flitting through her system. Sure that it’d been settled from the moment she woke up this morning, more especially after she’d given Allison the ring. However it would seem fate wouldn’t exactly allow her to go through the holiday of love without the bubble deflating just a tad. the cause for such a ripple ? When mocha hues spotted none other than Rachel and Christopher Hawthorne stood not so far away. Stopping in her tracks abruptly as features once bright fell with an disdain quick to replace. 

Normally she wouldn’t have bothered to pay them much mind, yet after recently discovering they had some sort of scheme in place to slither their way into the wedding, the dancer wasn’t finding herself in a very passive headspace where they had been concerned. Of course she didn’t want to sully the evening nor cause a scene, but the more she thought back on how their shady request to save seats at the wedding affected her fiancée, the panic to overcome her, that urge to fulfill her promise on ensuring they weren’t going to ruin everything, grew tenfold. With ire singing at nerve endings and driving her movements now, she downed the rest of her drink in one gulp, practically slamming it down onto a nearby table before making her way over. 

Waiting for just a second mere feet away for whomever they were talking to, to leave, shifting features into what had to be her most contrived pleasant expression ever as she planted herself directly in front of them. ❝ Rachel, Christopher — I was hoping I could talk to you both for a moment. ❞ Not bothering to address them with a respectful title, sure technically these people were set to become her in-laws, but, that hardly mattered. 

❝ Sanem, how nice to see you, don’t you look... ❞ Rachel was the first to speak, trailing off as though the words had somehow caught in her throat, teetering between not wanting to compliment but not completely show the equal loathe held that shone through clear within a condescending smile. Doing nothing to phase her of course and she had to keep herself from instantly rolling her eyes into the back of her skull. Only assuming the former comment was being put on for public’s sake. 

Kissing the back of her teeth, for a fraction of a second did she allow a grin of her own to appear, far from finding anything actually worth smiling about. Merely brought on because she was afraid if she didn’t use it to help push the searing vexation down she may just say fuck it to her plan of not stirring a commotion. Airy chuckle billows out into the atmosphere of the room then. ❝ Okay, you know what let’s just forget about the pleasantries and I’ll get right to it. I’m not sure what kind of game the two of you think you’re playing by somehow sending us that shoddy RSVP, and frankly I don’t care. Just know that it’s over, the card is shredded and you two will not be attending or did the fact that you never got a real invitation in the first place not register the logic in your minds ? ❞ 

Both of them looked slightly taken back, as if they hadn’t expected her to be so bold. ❝ We just assumed she may have a change of heart and want her parents to be in attendance. ❞

❝ She’s our daughter and we have every right to be there, and I don’t like your tone, clearly nobody ever taught you respect. Honestly I don’t know what Allison sees in you. ❞

Vision flickers back and forth between them, incredulity clear on her face yet she couldn’t stop the audible scoffed laugh that erupted from her throat. ❝ You are fucking kidding me. ❞ Mumbled out more so than spoke aloud, unsure if it went heard over the mixture of the crowd and music playing. Even if it did, so be it. Stepping closer to them now, dangerously challenging, but more because what she had to say next, she didn’t want anyone around them possibly catching wind. ❝ The two of you really have the audacity to stand there and act like what, you suddenly have her best interest in mind ? That after the disgusting way you continuously disregarded her feelings and kept pushing her to be in an awful situation for your benefit on top of just being shitty parents to your children in general. And proving to this day you’re both still vying for the title of World’s Worst without shame. Yet expect anyone who hasn’t already seen the snakes you are, believe differently. ❞

Rachel pipped up with a startled and poor attempt at being assertive. ❝ Excuse you— ❞ Before Sanem was quick to cut her off. 

❝ No, you are going to shut up and listen because I’m only gonna say this once. Neither of you are getting anywhere near that wedding, there will be no seats saved, so I would suggest any thinking otherwise stops here and now. Because I will see to it however I need to that you don’t ruin her day. Understand ?! ❞ Her tone dripped, saturated in blatant warning, fire raging behind mocha hues, while a trepidation seemed to glisten behind both of theirs regardless of how they tried to mask it. She took steps to walk away, until she remembered the note included one other person, if he could even be considered as such. Halting as she turned to face them again with a finger held up. ❝ One more thing actually — you can tell that third you wanted a reserve for that the same applies, he won’t get to so much as breathe the same oxygen that surrounds my wife. ❞ What sounded like a threat, rolled off her tongue with the air of promise instead, ensuring as much was prominently displayed finally pivoting to remove herself from their vicinity while her emotions were kept settled enough. Hoping to either find more alcohol or a means of escape to the outside for some air, whichever came first.

[nelllraiser]

the worst distance | jared & nell

LOCATION: jared’s farmhouse. PARTIES: @nelllraiser​ and @themidnightfarmer​. SUMMARY: a disturbance on jared’s farm leads to a disturbance between friends. 

Finally Nell had gotten to come back to Jared’s, and escaped that god-forsaken hospital. Being in that hospital bed must have been the longest she’d been made to stay still in her entire life, and she certainly hadn’t been a fan of it. Beyond that, everything would go back to normal now that Bea was back...right? She didn’t have to run off to clandestine necromancy rituals, and try and find ways of saying goodbye to Jared that might not be actual goodbyes. And yet...even as she sat on the couch reading a book, it seemed peace wasn’t in the cards just yet. For a moment, she ignored the sounds coming from outside, thinking them to be regular farm going-ons, but soon enough the cries of the creatures became more panicked, and the loud bang! of Jared’s shotgun made her jump. What the fuck? She shouldn’t have moved as quick as she did, her arms screaming in protest as she moved towards the front door, not pausing before throwing it open. Her heart was pounding in her throat as adrenaline began to rush through her veins. She ran towards the sound of the shotgun, worry making her anxious as she went. Finally she found it’s source on the very edge of the farm, along with Jared. There stood another man in addition to her best friend, one she also recognized. “Ronald, what the fuck?” What the hell was another monster catcher from the Ring doing here?

It was all supposed to be sorted, it was all supposed to become a happy normal. Jared got a few days of peace before everything went to shit. Being where he was, no one travelled the dirt track to the farm, you couldn’t even really see the place from the main road either. So it was unlikely anyone but a local would call in, a local who knew what was going on here that is. So an unfamiliar face was not really a welcome one. And as it stood, the unfamiliar face was having a showdown with one of Jared's kids. He’d felt the jolt of something akin to pain while he was in the greenhouse, he’d taken up arms -with what was on his farm it was always best to be a little dangerous yourself- especially as he heard the cries of pain and disruption louder. The sight enraged him and Jared took a warning shot at the unfamiliar face. The man had deployed some sort of trap to one of the younger of his herd, a trap that was causing immense pain by the feel of it. He was fighting against the residual pain he was feeling to steady his hands for another warning shot when Nell appeared at his side. What she said caused him to pause. “What? Who?”  

Nell didn’t have much attention to spare for Jared as she took in the sight before her. One of Jared’s precious animals, ensnared and in pain, quickly brought her to rage, hands balling at her sides as her only sign of warning while she addressed the man who���d done this. “Let the creature go, Ronald,” she said in a scorching tone, eyes hardened to sharp stones as they bore into her coworker. Ronald’s face hardened from confusion to stubbornness before he spoke, thinking Nell was here trying to get in on his prize, “This is my catch. Go find your own.” Now there was another emotion mixing in with the anger that had pooled in Nell’s stomach. Nerves. “Shut the fuck up,” she barked harshly, taking a few threatening steps towards the man. He’d already said too much- no doubt Jared would have questions about what all this meant. Questions Nell wasn’t certain she was ready to answer. “Last chance. Let them out or I’m going to make it very painful for you.” Her hands were raised, obviously at the ready to do magic at any moment. Ronald eyed her hands cautiously, having seen the damage she could wreck in the Ring, and seemed to reconsider. “Alright- alright- jeez. No need to get so fucking testy.” Then he was stepping forward to disengage the trap.

He didn’t lower his rifle, pointing it still at the man's face. Tracking his movement as he reacted to what Nell was threatening to do. But even that brought questions to his mind. “What the fuck?” Jared whispered angrily to Nell who was paying him no attention. His stomach was in knots as this ‘Ronald’ person stepped forward, Jared took a full step forward as well. He didn’t trust strangers, let alone one causing pain to his precious charges. He watched with slowly rising anger in his eyes as the man eased the pain his trap was causing and withdrew quickly from beside the juvenile bies. At this point Jared walked forward, placed a hand on the beast and urged it to it’s full staggering height behind him. With that he turned to Ronald and his usually well kept temper got the better of him. Without a second thought, now that his charge was behind him, with his body fully between the bies and this man, Jared raised his rifle and shot the man. In his anguish, and  with the residual pain of the trap still wearing off his charge and himself Jared missed. He shot again, catching the now running target in the shoulder, almost toppling Ronald over. His intent was to take the threat and eliminate it. Exterminate anything that risked his kids and his existence. But he was shaking still with the aftershocks of whatever trap had been set. His hands jerked and his final round missed its target by an inch. The man's ear erupted in a splatter of blood on the dry dirt grund before his body vanished into the trees. Empty now, Jared simply dropped his rifle and turned to run his hands over the bies enormous face. “What did he do to you, sweetheart.” he whispered. 

The angry whispered words made another shot of pure anxiety run its way through Nell, not knowing how she was going to get out of this one. But at the same time, she didn’t want to. Hiding things from Jared had never been something she wanted, but this last secret was one she knew might be...difficult to approach. And for once in her life, she’d been a coward, letting it fester in silence rather than figuring it out together. She did nothing as Jared acted on his anger, knowing it wasn’t her place, and also knowing that if the world was short a man like Ronald, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. The man had always taken a little too much joy in capturing monsters, though she’d mostly seen him around only in passing. Monster catchers didn’t exactly work together. If anything, they were competing against one another. But finally, Ronald was on his way, leaving nothing more than a trail of blood behind him as he went. As Nell’s fury dissipated, the nerves became her most prominent emotion, not knowing what came now. She was even scared to speak, afraid that Jared would demand answers the moment she did. But she had to say something. “Is she...okay?” Thankfully, monster catchers generally tried their best to not do too much damage to whatever they were bringing in. After all, a damaged creature wasn’t as good in a fight, and their pay would reflect that.

His rage at the situation was bubbling just below the surface, offering his charge a few soft words before an encouraging push towards the rest of the herd who had scattered as soon as Jared had been on the scene. With her ambling away Jared turned abruptly to look at Nell more critically than he ever had before. He was seething, and for once it showed clearly on his face. His glamour doing nothing but bubble as he attempted to keep it intact lest this ‘Ronald’ guy still be lurking. “Who. The fuck. Is Ronald?” For someone usually so soft spoken, his tone left a lot to be desired. “What the fuck WAS THAT? How do you know him? What was he doing here? What did he mean, go find your own?” The final question was the most damning. He was reeling trying to connect dots, but the only ones he could find he didn’t want to believe.

Nell had been right to be nervous. Jared didn’t even seem to process that she’d asked a question, or perhaps the questions he was asking about now were all he cared about. She didn’t blame him. “He’s- I don’t-” For once she was stumbling over words, having no idea how to handle this situation now that it had bubbled up between them. Ideally they would have had this conversation when someone hadn’t just tried to steal one of Jared’s kids. What the fuck was Ronald doing out here anyway? Jared’s farm creatures weren’t hurting anyone, they should have been left in peace. Part of her wanted to say that they should talk about this later when they were calm, and not having just faced a man trying to steal a bies. But she knew that most likely wouldn’t fly. If she’d been in his position, she would want answers now. She did want answers now. Specifically as to why the fuck a monster catcher was out here in the first place, and how he’d found Jared’s farm. “I...we work for the same...place.” Each word felt like lead falling from her lips, not wanting to draw connections between her and the man that had just hurt the bies.

He stared her down. His emotions were running high, and for the first time in his life he was viewing Nell without the rose coloured glasses his love for her put on him. Her answer wasn’t satisfying enough, her answer didn’t answer all his questions. And Jared’s face betrayed just how lacking he found it. “You work for the same place. And where is that? You work with psychopaths who do what? Go after creatures? Hunt?” Jared gave her a hard look, his voice raising. “Out with it Nell.” She didn’t stutter, she was eloquent, if this had been nothing but a coincidence she’d have been the first to say as much. Her stuttering and silence, and unwillingness to answer his questions was leaving a pit in his stomach. He demanded of her the information he wanted, “What have you done?”

“We- we-” Nell always had an answer, her smart ass mouth rarely failing her. But with Jared looking at her as if she’d been the one to hurt his kids, she was flustered, panicked as she tried to make sense of the situation and how quickly everything had gone South. “No!” she said reflexively as he dropped the word hunt, knowing the connotation that came with it. Psychopaths? Did he think she was-? “I don’t- it’s-” Finally she fisted her hands once more, the pain of the motion as it pulled at her healing skin actually helping to ground her and force her to form coherent sentences. “It’s called the Ring. They have fights and- I fight there. And I bring in things to fight as well.” It felt like rocks had taken up residence in her stomach, weighing and pulling her down as she continued to speak, barely breathing between words. “But not creatures like your’s! He shouldn’t be here!” But it was his last words that stoked a fire in her, the accusatory tone in them impossible to ignore as her brows furrowed. “I haven't done anything!” Whatever shit Ronald was pulling, she was going to get to the bottom of it. Report him to someone or something like that. Just fucking take care of it to make sure he didn’t hurt anything innocent again. 

The world seemed to halt as he finally got his answers, and they did not make anything any better, no matter what Nell thought her explanation was doing. Jared looked at her in silence for a moment, emotion swirling in him before he curled his lip. “You... You bring in things, what things do you bring in Nell.” He felt like he already knew, but he wanted her to say it, he wanted to have his worst suspicions confirmed so he wasn’t just making wild assumptions. “Sounds to me like you’ve been doing a lot of ‘anything’ Penelope.” The venom on his lips tasted bitter, he’d never spoken to her like this in his life. But then again, he’d never imagined she’d be a part of something like this, something she had only half admitted to. “Not creatures like mine. Mine as in the kids on the farm? Or like mine as in not ones you know of?” He felt sick. “What kind of creatures Nell? What KIND? Do you catch them like he just did? With traps that cause pain? DO THEY HAVE A CHOICE?”

Nell couldn’t do this. She couldn’t lose Jared after everything. She couldn’t lose Jared full stop. It wasn’t just the recent tragedies that made this sting, it was the fact that it was happening at all. Nell had always viewed everyone in her life as ticking time bombs, waiting to go off whenever they got tired of her, or learned things about her that were less than savory and decided to be done with it all. But- Jared had been one of her safety nets. One of the ones she’d never begun to think might explode in flames one day. No matter what happened, they always came back to each other, found their way home. It was simply what they did. Explaining herself wasn’t coming easily anymore, most of her brain malfunctioning and focussing solely on the fact that Jared seemed so ready to believe that she- Penelope Vural, the girl who’d watched the calves with him and spent hours learning each other’s hearts in person and on Facetime, would be so ready to hurt simply for the sake of it. Like Ronald? Like Montgomery? It was too much for her mind to handle, and she went blank for a moment, malfunctioning into something that strangely and surprisingly wasn’t anger. She was an empty slate, reverting to a person that wasn’t so much a person as just being there to exist and deflect. “If that’s what you want to think I am and what I do. I can’t stop you.” If this was what he wanted them to be now, she’d learned by now there was no forcing people to hold onto you, no matter how much her heart was begging her to reach out and keep him, to hold close one of the only things she’d loved and gotten love from in return. It hurt less when she didn’t try to scrounge after them. 

She was thinking of them, and all they had become since they’d met, imagining it coming to an end with this realization. Unfortunately all he could focus on was the reality he was being served, cold. She hadn’t said a word in her own favour in Jared’s opinion. She’d admitted to being associated with a man who’d just tried to steal one of his charges. She’d admitted to bringing in ‘things’ to fight but refused to elaborate past ‘not like yours’. How was he supposed to take that. How was he supposed to digest that information and it to be okay? He was terrified that all this time, all the time he’d spent with her, had led to this. To her association with whoever it was being dangerous to his kids. The man could have followed her here, or worse. He didn’t want to believe it, but she wasn’t giving him many options by not even answering half of the things he was asking. He felt empty. “What am I supposed to think? You’re not telling me anything.” he growls in both frustration and despair. “If by things you mean creatures, and if by not like mine you mean not from my farm...just know. I’m tied to more than just my farm animals. I feel a constant ache, CONSTANT because the things I was put here to protect are hunted, and destroyed and apparently brought to fight against their will for amusement. When they hurt I hurt. And if you can live with that, get off my fucking farm. They don’t deserve that. I never expected you to...to ever hurt them like that.” His anger was still bubbling, but it was being surpassed by an overwhelming sense of loss. The trust was failing between them, his best friend. He loved her, but what was he supposed to do? He didn’t know what else he could do.

Everything was moving too fast and Nell felt as if she’d missed the stop she was meant to get off at two stations ago. How had they gotten here? He was right in saying that she hadn’t provided him with anything redeeming at this point, as she’d done her version of short circuiting, wiping clean and building up walls in preparation for whatever was coming next. It was an old self-preservation reflex, and one that wasn’t serving her well in the least at a time like this. But even if she hadn’t given him anything to want to salvage her with, part of her still couldn’t believe that he seemed to be jumping to his conclusions when it came to her and what she might do. That was the part that was scrambling her mind rather neatly, despite herself trying her best to hold it together. “Would you even believe me at this point?” she asked, her voice feeling far away, as if it weren’t a part of her. “Even if I haven’t said anything, how could you- you really think- ?” There were too many words swimming in her head. Nell was trying her best to grasp at the ones she wanted, but couldn’t quite get to them, the thoughts just barely out of her reach.” There was so much information, too much information as he mentioned creatures dying hurting him, and immense guilt began to pool in her. But she’d been doing her best to take in the creatures and people that were causing the most pain, and people that deserved to be made to fight to their deaths— at least, in her mind. That hard to count for...something, right? It was getting harder to distinguish these days after being hunted like an animal by Montgomery. “If you think- if you think I’d willingly hurt you, and creatures that don’t deserve it, all for just- for just- amusement-” He hadn’t told her to leave, but he’d let her know it was on the table, that it wasn’t something out of the question, that he’d be willing to be rid of her. Maybe he meant just for the night, or until they could sort things out, but Nell was too used to this, to being discarded when she did something wrong, and it was impossible to remind herself that perhaps this was temporary. “If you think that’s something I could live with…” Where was all her righteous anger, now? The one she so often wielded like a weapon against people? No doubt it would have served her better than feeling as if she were caving in on herself. Perhaps it refused to surface because of the utter shock this had been to her system. “If you think I’d do that- then what does it matter what I’d actually do? If that’s something you think I could be then- then-” she took a shuddering breath, eyes looking up at him in a way that was almost unseeing, feeling like she was having an out of body experience but knowing she was still here in this moment, no matter how much she wished she wasn’t. “Then maybe it’s best I go.” With that she took a step backwards, a distant gaze still trained on him. But as she felt her bottom lip quiver she tore herself away as she turned her shoulder, not wanting him to see. Even if this was their goodbye, she’d wanted to see him as she left, to try and remember what they’d had if it was coming to an end. 

He’d always been on her side, no matter what she’d been up to. Jared was steadfast in his confidence in her, to have that confidence shaken was crushing. Instead of explaining like he wanted her to, instead of getting angry and putting him back in his place with facts, she simply didn’t. Nell started to glaze over like he’d never seen before, her eyes looked at him but were not seeing him at all. In his state of panic about his animals, the reality of his farm having been fully breached by some unsavory person, he saw this only as an admission of guilt. She’d fight for the truth, he believed she would. But as she spoke she did everything but. His heart was breaking just listening to her, how could he not think this way, why wasn’t she setting him right and knocking him on his ass? As soon as her back was turned tears sprung to his eyes. She wasn’t going to fight him on this, and it was terrifying. Jared felt like he was collapsing, his chest ached both with the usual pain of his charges being hunted, but also for himself. It was selfish but he didn’t know how to be without her. Even when she’d been away for years they’d spoken constantly. Posted their shared ipod back and forth. Made stupid videos to send. And it was worse now that she was home. He’d had her, he’d had her in his grasp, in his arms some nights. And now she was just walking away. His mouth opened but no words emerged. Instead a pitiful sob erupted. Just loud enough to elicit a response from the bies he’d freed from the trap. It itself sounded a noise of sorrow, it mimik the nymphs. This sound travelled slowly across the farm, animal to animal. But she walked away. Jared couldn’t watch. He turned and placed a hand on his animal. “We’ll…...figure out how to live-” he didn’t want to have to finish the thought, it got caught in his throat. He didn’t want to live without her, but she was already gone.

[shaineybainey]

“Noble Intentions”

Lab Rats [T]

The Lab Rats and Mighty Med teams face off with the greatest threat to humanity yet: The Incapacitator, a supervillain bent on becoming the most powerful in the planet. …Which makes things super awkward for Leo, considering that their newest nemesis is his father. AU. Lab Rats vs Mighty Med redux.

** DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER **

tagging: @clockradio93 @vcnting @verified-dumbass @serpent-princess @weareoutofmaplesyrupdave @aaaaahhhhh1234 @lettersandwhiteroses @breanadaveport-mendel @cecespuffs @quimbionics @hollywoodendinq 

[ By the way, if anyone doesn’t like to be tagged anymore, just tell me through a DM. I appreciate the likes, but if the tagging annoys you, I’ll respectfully leave you out on the next one :) ]

TW: disturbing imagery, death of loved ones, panic triggers

V: Late Bloomer

Leo stirs, his whole body entirely too numb. He squints as his eyes sting from the flood of light shining all around him. He waits until the pain ebbs. Soon enough, he can make shapes, spot movements. But nothing is familiar.

Nothing except the overlapping Ms on the wall – one scarlet and one chrome.

“Leo? Leo, are you okay?” a shape – then a couple of shapes – approaches him. “How are you feeling?”

He withdraws from the faceless figure even though he recognizes the voice. “Chase?”

“Yes, Leo, it’s me,” the figure replies, but in Bree’s voice. He (she?) smiles. “You’ve been out a while. We’re glad you’re okay.”

“Where are we?” he asks, still trying to see through the gray haze.

“We’re on Mighty Med. It’s a hospital for superheroes,” says Adam.

“I know that. I know what Mighty Med is,” Leo says. He sits up. He sees a vague outline of a hospital room… How come he still can’t see anyone’s face? It makes his heart thump. “Who are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“The Incapacitator’s energy field must have been too much for you,” Chase replies. At least, it’s his voice.

“It’s going to be okay,” assures Bree. “The doctors said the blindness is temporary. In two days, you’ll be able to get your vision back.”

He searches their faces, still uneasy. The outlines of the shapes look like his siblings. There were four other people, although who they are he doesn’t know.

Suddenly, a worry hits him. “Where’s The Incapacitator?”

Though he doesn’t see their faces, he senses relief. “It’s over, Leo,” says Chase.

“What’s over?”

“Him. We defeated him!”

“What?”

“Yeah! He was holding you hostage,” says the figure that was Chase. Then, in Adam’s voice he adds, “It took us some time, but we figured out how to use his own power against him. Who knew it was that simple?”

“Wait. No, no, wait. I don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You’re not making any sense. Who are you?”

“He’s dead, Leo. He imploded,” Bree says, a cold smile evident in her voice. “He died, as he should have.”

“No. No, that’s not true!” He tries to leap out of the bed, but the shapes hold him down. “What are you doing? Let go of me!”

“Why?”

Leo looks up quickly. He freezes upon seeing Krane towering over him, half of his body terribly burned just like the last time he saw him. A hole gapes at the place where his right eye should have been.

Krane grins wolfishly, blood on his teeth. “Isn’t this your fault? You should have reported him a long time ago. Maybe he would still be alive if you had.”

“We would still be alive,” S-1 agrees, appearing on the other side of him.

“You’re not quite the hero you think you are,” Krane says, his grip on his arm tightening.

The shapes press in on him, robbing him of breathing space. “No – Stop!” he screams. “Get away from me!”

But they only converge, closer and closer and closer until the shapes merge into a tangible cloud that wraps around him. Soon, the cloud turns into water that he plunges under, and then he can’t breathe.

He screams, but no sound comes out.

He gasps for air—

– Ϟ –

Leo wakes, gasping as if breaking through a surface. He defensively pulls his arm back from the person touching it, scooting away from him.

“Easy, Leo. It’s okay. You’re safe,” Joel says. “I won’t hurt you. It’s just me.”

Leo’s eyes quickly scan the room for danger. He’s in some bedroom, one he’s never seen before, and his father, wearing jeans and an ash gray t-shirt, is the only one there with him.

It all comes rushing back. Tecton, Chase, the energy lasso.

There was also the look of murder in his eyes as he grabbed him.

He retreats farther away from his father, afraid.

Joel chuckles. “Leo, I mean it. You’re—”

Leo flinches away from his touch, his heart calming but his brain still on high alert.

Joel sighs. “Right. I know. I overdid it. I’m sorry.”

“You were going to kill me.”

“I was never going to kill you. I would never. Why would I do that?”

Why would he? Leo doesn’t know. He used to think he understands why his father would do things, but now he doesn’t. “How could you lie to me?” he asks.

“Leo, you know I don’t like you being involved in the things that I do. Especially since you still stubbornly believe that there’s room for you in the superhero world.”

“But I am involved now. You hurt my family when I asked you not to!”

“I didn’t really hurt them! Everyone is still alive when we left.”

“You hurt Chase.”

“Well, the kid was kind of stupid.”

“He was still my brother!”

“Hey.” Joel points a finger at him. “Watch it. I don’t like your tone.”

The warning registers, but it does very little to allay his anger. “How could you do this? How could you hurt a lot of people like that?”

“Come on. It’s not like you don’t know that it’s just part of the job. They got in my way, I move them out.”

“But—”

“Leo, stop. Okay? Stop nagging me about this. It isn’t right,” Joel says patiently. “You know what I am. You know what I do. I understand why you’re mad, but everything I did was for a reason.”

Leo watches him indignantly as he gets up and heads towards a wardrobe. He simmers as he observes him dig through its contents.

It doesn’t make things any better when he comes back with a fresh set of clothes, smiling as if nothing happened.

His father observes him a moment before chuckling. “That must be some dream you had,” he comments. “I’ve never seen you this angry before.”

Leo says nothing and only looks away. He can’t stand his father at the moment.

“Since it seems like you won’t ask, this is the place I’ve been wanting to take you to,” Joel says. “It’s the house where I grew up. Nana’s and Pop’s house.”

Leo stubbornly keeps his mouth shut. Still, he’s moved to examine it closely. “I didn’t know it was still standing,” he mutters begrudgingly.

“Yeah,” Joel says, looking around the room fondly. “RT and I used to share this room, but when I turned 9, Nana moved Uncle RT to her sewing room downstairs.”

It’s fascinating that the childhood room of one of the most powerful supervillains in existence looks…normal. The room itself is small. Leo thinks it’s about the size of one of the sitting rooms in the Mission Creek mansion.

Pressed against the wall to his left is a study desk, a dust-covered stack of books, a decades old lamp, and a Duck Tales pencil holder sitting atop it. Right next to the study desk is the wardrobe. By the door is a shoe rack.

Everything looks so neat and normal that it’s almost disorienting. Sure, it’s obvious that not much had been touched for a long while, but he doubts that anyone would guess the kind of man the kid who used to sleep here would grow up to be.

“So, was I right? Were you having a bad dream?” his father asks. “You’re sweating like crazy.”

“Are we in Kansas?”

Though still a bit taken aback by his resistance, Joel answers. “Yeah.”

“Why did you take me with you? You didn’t need me.”

Joel shrugs. “Many reasons. Distraction, for one. Emotions run higher when there’s a hostage involve, especially when it’s a kid,” he says. “I know for sure it frazzles Tecton. That’s one of his weaknesses: his emotion tends to get the best of him in situations like this. He becomes more impulsive, more prone to make mistakes.”

“So you’re using me as a pawn.”

“I brought you here because I didn’t want to leave you behind with your new family.” He sighs. “Your stepdad is slipping. I want them to know how easily they could lose you. You’re valuable to me, Leo. I want them to feel the same fear I feel every day.”

Leo says nothing. He doesn’t know whether he should be grateful or frustrated that his father is once again stepping into his new life.

“You’re not going to tell me about your dream?” Joel prompts, smiling.

Leo stares at him, unsure. “I know you hate my new family, especially my stepdad, but you can’t keep doing this,” he says wearily. “What are we going to do if they find out that I’m your son? They’d think I’ve been in on it all along. It’s going to make a lot of things complicated.”

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“No, Dad, I never was! But after today, maybe I am.” Leo sighs. He hunches forward, gathering his thoughts. “This is putting me in a bad spot, too. I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you have your reasons why you do the things you do, and as we agreed on our deal I’m not going to interfere with anything unless it’s super bad.”

“But…?”

“But if I keep helping you, the superhero community might start viewing me as an enemy.”

“I only see that as an advantage.”

Leo only glares.

“Why do you insist on being one of them?” Joel asks. “You’re wasting so much of your time trying to earn their respect. You’re working three times as hard as your siblings, and they treat you like you don’t matter.”

“They don’t do that.”

“Yes. They do. You just don’t what to admit it.” Reading distress on his face, he says, “You’re a lot smarter than them. Take away your stepbrother’s bionic chip, and what is he? Just an average kid with an average level of intelligence.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that—”

“That what? He creates things that work, that make money, and you don’t?” His father’s eyes have darkened, and Leo realizes that the smile was just a mask for the poisonous anger bubbling underneath. “Before you and your mother met them, you were heading towards great things. But look at what they did to you. They took everything from you. They took advantage of your loyalty, your sacrifice – and once they didn’t need you, they discarded you.”

“Please stop,” Leo mutters, the words hollowing out his heart.

Joel’s eyes soften when he realizes how it’s all hurting him. “I know the way I do things aren’t how you’d do them. But the world doesn’t look to me the way it does to you. It’s not a bright and warm place for people like us, my son. It just takes advantage of us and leaves us in the dark.”

When his son still won’t meet his eyes, he attempts a genuine smile. “I’m doing all of this for you. I don’t want you to experience the same things I’ve experienced. I know it may seem that I just want destruction, but really, what I want is a world where no one would take away anything from you.”

Leo knows what his father means; he knows the story. His dad and his uncle were only children, 10 and 7, respectively, when their parents were killed. They were able to get away from the murderers and hide in an abandoned house not far from here.

His grandfather had been close friends with a superhero at the time. They waited and waited for him, wishing that the man would show up and rescue their parents.

But the minutes only turned to hours, and hours turned to days. Even in the funeral, no superhero showed their face.

It was the day The Incapacitator was born. Injustices with no one to help only piled up, and the anger only increased until finally, everything he once was had turned into the man who sits in that room today.

Leo understands. Or, at least, he can sympathize. But why does it have to go this far? “You do know that if you drain the whole Earth of its energy, it’s possible that it would just implode in on itself,” he points out.

Joel laughs. “I just say that to spook the superheroes. You know them. They don’t do anything unless it involves drama.”

“You kidnapped me to prove a point. It’s not like you don’t.”

“I don’t. I prefer to be practical.”

“Practical? What if you get hurt?”

Joel shrugs. “Big game, big risks.”

“What if you die?” Leo asks, exasperated. “What if this is the one to end it all? You told me that your line of work is the one where people make you retire. Why would you put them in that position when you don’t have to?”

The expression on his father’s face changes. “I’m not going to explain anything to you.”

“I don’t need you to explain it to me. I don’t want to get involved in it.”

“Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”

Leo huffs. Why can’t he understand? “Dad, please. Don’t do this.”

“This is not your fight,” his father says decisively. “You’ve never wanted to be on the same side as me. I’m letting you. But don’t interfere with my plans.”

“It’s going to hurt a lot of people.”

“People die. That’s just what they do.”

“People? People like who, Nana and Pops?” Leo regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth. Horrifying still is the look of shock and hurt on his father’s face, turning the silence that ensues into something stinging.

He can kick himself. He should kick himself. He should have never gone that far. “I’m sorry, Dad. That was a terrible thing to say,” he apologizes. “It was hard on you when you lost them. I’m not as young as you were, but I don’t want you to die either. No matter how many offenses the law has listed under your name and how much they’re offering people for your capture, you’re still my dad. My world will also fall apart if something happens to you.”

For a moment, Joel only glowers at him. Then, he scoffs. “I can’t believe you know that they have a bounty on my head.”

“Well, I have to find a way to pay for college,” Leo jokes cautiously.

Joel chuckles. He’s still notably upset, but it’s obvious the tactic has worked. “So was that what you were dreaming about? That I died?”

Leo nods. “I was in Mighty Med. They told me you were dead.”

A smile teases at Joel’s face. “That upset you?”

“Of course. Who would ever want to wake up in a world where their parents are gone?” Remembering more of the dream, his frown deepens. “Krane and S-1 were also there. They told me it’s my fault that you died.”

“Krane. I took care of him a long time ago.”

“I know. It was the first time I asked you for help.” Leo hesitates before pointing out, “You know, you didn’t have to go that far. You could have just overloaded them and shorted them out. You didn’t have to…”

“Eliminate them? Of course I did. He was going to hurt you. He also didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who stops after you fire a warning shot.”

“You do know that what you did technically counts as being a hero, right?”

“Hm.”

Leo smiles for the first time. “You know, if Uncle RT finds out you—”

“Don’t.” Joel directs a steely stare at him. “Don’t mention any of the three of them anymore. I don’t want to talk about the dead right now.”

The smile on his face wanes. “Okay.”

Joel nods at the set of clothes sitting on the feet of the bed. “Change into that. You’re gonna be here a while so you might as well be comfortable.”

“Wait. You’re gonna be staying in?”

“Like I said, I’m practical. The longer you’re gone, the more desperate they’ll be. It’s easier to work with desperate people.”

“Aren’t you worried that they’ll find us here?”

“How? I fried your phone while you were sleeping, you don’t have bionics that—”

“You fried what!”

“—can trace, we’re in the middle of nowhere—” Joel smiles as he walks out the room. “They’ve got nothing.”

Leo feels like his brain has shorted out from that one information. “How could you destroy my phone? I worked hard to get that paid off!”

“I can always get you a new one,” Joel calls from down the hall.

Leo groans. That one was mine, though! “Why are you doing this to me?”

His father makes no reply.

Leo sighs, defeated. “You know, I feel like if I had superpowers, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

His father slowly drifts to the door. “Why? Do you feel like you might?”

“I said if,” Leo says, irritated. “Let’s face it, Dad: I’m 17. Yours started showing up at 5. It’s time that we both accept that I’m a loser in that genetic department.”

“You know you’re not a loser,” says Joel. He shrugs. “You never know. Maybe you’re just a late bloomer. Maybe it’s just taking you longer.”

“Or maybe it’s really just not in me.”

“Could be trigger-based, too,” Joel muses. “Stress…”

“Had four years of that in high school.”

“Life or death situation?”

“Almost died five times, on my last count.”

Joel frowns thoughtfully. “Toxic waste?”

Leo deadpanned. “There ain’t no way I’m going to let you drop me in a pool of one just to see.”

Joel watches him closely. “Do you want superpowers?”

“I don’t think it’d make a difference at this point. I mean, it’d be cool,” Leo admits, “but if I just don’t have it, I just don’t have it.”

Joel nods thoughtfully. “Well, let me know. We could make a bid for the Arcturion if it’s something you want.” He smirks. “I have a better chance at it than she does.”

“Wait,” Leo calls after his father. He swings his feet off the bed, and it’s then that he realizes he’s chained. “Dad, what is this? Why’d you bolt me to the floor?”

“In case they do find us here!”

Leo fiddles with the lock a moment but decides to abandon it for now. “What’s the Arcturion? What’s that?”

“Do you want to help me with this one device I’d been working on? I could never get the mechanics quite right. Maybe you’d have an idea on how to fix it.”

“Yeah, sure – but what’s the Arcturion?”

Joel only chuckles. The real reason why I wanted this transponder, he thinks but as with all unspoken words Leo doesn’t hear it.

Not that he should. He has decided his son can’t know about it yet.

After all, it’s the true key for The Incapacitator to be the most powerful of them all.

[thebiasrekkers]

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 04: The Winding Road

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,795

Tag List: @luxekook��, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @stillcopingxx​, @taevkimchi​, @aroseforyoongi​, @vivpurple7​, @happilystrongthroughthedark​, @sw33tnight​, @nikkitane​, @mini-coop25​, @taegiq​, 

AN: Just a reminder that this series is going to be updated slowly. Please be patient with me. I promise you that it will be worth the wait. If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me a line!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Roads were made for journeys, not destinations.” - Confucius

The soft clink of cups rang out through the silence encompassing the gazebo. The King drank from the white porcelain, watching as Dojin turned to sip from his own cup. After they finished, the two men set their cups back on the table and continued to remain silent. Beams of moonlight filtered in through the space and the King took a moment to simply bask in the serene atmosphere. There was no need to rush this conversation, but it was a talk that needed to be had.

Like the faithful servant he was, Dojin remained silent until the King decided it was time to break said silence.

Sighing, he reached his hand to grasp the handle of the liquor jar but was halted when Dojin grasped the neck of the bottle first. 

“Allow your servant the honor, Your Majesty,” came his former bodyguard’s baritone voice as he lifted the bottle off the table, “and please allow your servant to inquire as to what is weighing on your mind.”

The clear liquor filled the small cup. Dojin poured himself a drink and waited for the King to drink first. Instead of drinking, he merely set the cup back down on the table while pinching the bridge of his nose. 

It had been a long and taxing week. Between dealing with his officials in court and the looming threat from Japan ever on the horizon, the King was fighting the urge to sleep more and more. He had so many edicts to place his seal over and he felt he had so little time to prepare. The sorceress, Kalina, predicted that a harsh famine would hit his country in the coming years. If she followed his instructions to the letter, the people of Joseon would not starve.

Despite all of these problems, the biggest concern sitting at the forefront of his mind was the well-being of his son.

“How is he doing these days, Dojin-ah?”

He watched a wistful smile form on the other man’s face. “He is very intelligent, Your Majesty. And strong.”

The King quipped a curious brow. “You have trained him in martial arts?”

Dojin nodded. “Since he was a young boy, Your Majesty.” His smile widened a bit further. “Soon the master will be forced to yield to the student.” 

The affection that radiated from Dojin’s words showcased the amount of love his former attendant had for the prince. If the King could, he would have wanted nothing more than to spare him from the life of a commoner. He was meant to live in luxury and comfort, able to study anything he wished to learn. He could have even become a scholar if he desired. Living a hard mountain life wasn’t supposed to be his destiny.

But what could he do? The law would not let him live in the palace and his Queen could not bear to see his innocent life taken from him in such an unfair manner. With the Noble Factions breathing down his neck, sowing seeds of corruption in the court, it left the King with his hands tied. The less of a foothold he was able to give them, the safer his throne would be. He did not wish to be a monarch that governed through fear and bloodshed. 

The dark ages of his grandfather’s rule was over. It was up to him to maintain balance and keep the peace.

Why hadn’t he asked Dojin about his son’s educational progress until now?

The King lifted his cup from the table. “Has he shown any interest in marriage yet?”

“No, Your Majesty.” He could see apprehension reflected in Dojin’s eyes. He gestured with his cup for him to continue. “There is one person he likes, but I’m sure Your Majesty would not approve of their union.”

“But you do?”

Dojin lowered his head quickly. “N-No, Your Majesty!”

The King bit back a smirk. It was so easy to tease his former bodyguard, even now. Raising the prince up as well as he had, what right did the King have to complain about Dojin’s parenting methods? There was sincerity in his words and the King had no reason to doubt his attendant.

“Is she a good woman?” he asked, sipping from his cup and savoring the sweet taste of the alcohol. 

“She is, My King. But she is also a dangerous woman.” Dojin lifted his face slowly. “I worry over the sort of influence she has over the prince.”

Frowning, he abstained from speaking right away. The King could only think of one person who was both a good woman and a dangerous woman. If that were true, then this was something the King would, indeed, need to concern himself with. Kalina was a woman who possessed much power and she didn’t age in all the years he’d known her. Ever since she first came to Joseon, when he’d been heralded as the Crown Prince, he believed there was a reason for her arrival. It became even more apparent when she continued to help him advise from the shadows. Since the impending famine was looming ever closer, he valued her council above the others in his court.

She was a woman shrouded in mystery and intrigue. No fool could ignore her when she passed on the streets, purchasing odds and ins for her own personal reasons. But that also bred a level of mistrust and hatred of her arrival. Even the King was not privy to the true source of her power, or her origins.

Troubling still? The Crown Prince was tangled in her orbit as well.

The King set his cup down and sighed. “Would you have me banish her from the kingdom? Even though she’s done nothing but aid in the country’s development?”

“I would never, Your Majesty!”

“The Crown Prince is fond of her as well.” Dojin’s eyes appeared to tremble in the moonlight. The King’s brows furrowed. “Do you still think she should be allowed to stay?”

“Y-Your Majesty…” The warrior leaned back, averting his gaze. There was nothing else to be said. The King knew this and he knew that Dojin did as well.

“The heavens will decide what becomes of their fates, Dojin-ah.” Craning his neck, the King peered up at the moon, basking in the silence for a little bit longer. “It is not our place to intervene, no matter how much we may want to.”

“HA!”

Sweat fell in rivulets down Yoongi’s neck and back with each swing of the wooden sword. Calluses and blisters bubbled in his palms, his fingers screaming from pain. But even so, Yoongi continued to swing. It was the only thing he could do to keep his erratic emotions tethered to the ground. The only thing keeping him from running to Kali’s home and begging her to run away with him. 

If they left the country and traveled to some faraway land where no one knew their names or faces, wouldn’t they be happy? Couldn’t they forget the rest of the world? They could be happy, couldn’t they?

The more logical and reasonable parts of Yoongi’s mind knew that this was impossible. Kali was a sorceress. She was also a woman who didn’t age. Having children or sharing a life with someone was impossible for her and, as such, it was her own curse that she carried on her shoulders. In time, Yoongi would grow old and she would remain unchanged. He would force her to suffer through a different type of agony - the pain of watching him fade away from the world as she was left behind; youthful and untouched.

Yoongi swung the sword across his body, his heart thundering against his chest and ribs. His breath came out in harsh intervals. San was sprawled out across a rock, his head moving back and forth with the sword’s movements. But he didn’t move or fuss at being ignored. It was like the wolf could sense that something was emotionally off-kilter with his master.

“Yoongi-ah!”

San suddenly stood on all fours, his head turning in the direction of where the voice was coming from. At first, his ears flattened along his skull - hackles raising and tail puffing up in response. San’s lips curled back to reveal teeth, but he made no noise. Yoongi paused to wipe at the sweat on his forehead. 

“Yoongi Hyung-nim!”

Smiling, he reached out to stroke San’s back to soothe the wolf’s aggression. He immediately relaxed, barking and leaping from the rock to tear off toward the woods. Jogging after him, Yoongi quickly followed, exiting the forest in minutes and seeing two people lingering around the house. One of them was a young man with a shallow beard and top knot, a bamboo fishing rod draped over his shoulder. The other was even younger, his long hair pulled back into a high ponytail. The two of them were bickering, but stopped immediately when they saw Yoongi approach.

“Hyung-nim!’ called the younger one, waving his arm back and forth in excitement.

Yoongi rolled his eyes as San barked and ran circles around them. “Jungkook-ah. Seokjin Hyung-nim.”

Seokjin held out two large fish tied to a hemp rope. “Brought you a present.”

He eyed it suspiciously. “Both of them?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t they both be yours?” Seokjin flashed a knowing grin as he scratched at his beard.

“No.” 

Yoongi brushed past them both and started making his way into the house to retrieve the bucket. The two of them followed him inside, griping between each other and yelling for him at the same time.

“What are you saying no for?” Seokjin’s tone was clearly put out. 

Grasping the hemp rope, Yoongi lifted the large bucket and knocked them both out of his path. “To whatever you’re about to ask me to do.”

“Hyung-nim! Don’t be like that!” Jungkook called after him. 

“The answer is no~,” Yoongi sing-songed as he draped his sword over his shoulder, the bucket swinging off the end. San was immediately at his side, craning his head every so often to peek back at the other two who were in hot pursuit.

“Yoongi-ah, come on,” he heard Seokjin whine behind him, “at least hear me out, will you?”

Pausing in his steps, he pivoted on his back heel and whipped around to glare at his two friends. “Is it worth getting flogged by my father over?”

Both Jungkook and Seokjin looked at each other, then their gazes shifted toward the ground. The fact that they weren’t immediately answering meant that there was a good chance that whatever they were asking would get him caned so hard, he wouldn’t be able to walk right for at least two days.

Sighing, he placed a hand on his hip. “What is it you want me to do?”

Again, they didn’t answer right away. Ultimately, they didn’t want to get him into trouble. Yoongi knew this. They were residents of the village, but were the first friends he made when he was a child. In a sense, they were like brothers. But he also knew what kind of mischief they liked to get into. There was no such thing as a free lunch. Seokjin bringing two large trout to his doorstep only meant one thing.

They needed Yoongi’s help with something. That something would most likely get him in trouble with his father. He was not about to tempt fate while his father was away.

“Well?” he snapped, causing both of their shoulders to jump. “Out with it.”

“It’s Namjoon Hyung,” murmured Jungkook finally. He fidgeted with his bangs, still avoiding Yoongi’s gaze. “He sprained his ankle during practice.”

Yoongi bit back another irritated sigh. Instead, he waved with his hand for him to continue. 

Seokjin cleared his throat loudly, stepping in when it seemed Jungkook was losing his voice. “Do you think you could fill in for him in the troupe?”

He could feel his lip curling into a slight snarl. “Come again?”

Clapping his hands, he rubbed his palms together in a pleading gesture. “They were asked by the magistrate to perform for the Crown Prince as a form of entertainment to celebrate his journey to Ming! If they get acknowledged, they’ll be able to perform in the Crown City regularly!” 

Jungkook stepped forward, clasping his own hands together. “Please, Hyung-nim? It’s not like the troupe are strangers to you! They could really use your help!”

Yoongi dropped the bucket at his feet and San skittered away from it. His two friends swallowed the lumps in their throat as he advanced on them. “Do you realize what you’re asking me right now?” He swung his wooden sword around, pointing the tip of it at them. “My father is currently at the Capital. If he finds out, I’ll be lucky to see the morning after!”

Seokjin quickly ran up to him, clasping his wrist so that Yoongi was forced to lower his sword. “That’s alright! The others know how strict your lifestyle is and everything will be fine!”

He scoffed. “Oh yeah? How?”

Jungkook ran to his other side, placing both hands on one shoulder. “You’ll be wearing a mask! No one will know what you look like during the performance.”

“What about rehearsal?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes at both of them. “Won’t they see my face during rehearsals?”

“They’re planning to rehearse in the large field just outside of the Crown City!” His whole body shifted when Seokjin clapped his hand against his back, causing him to cough slightly. “It’ll be fine! I promise!”

Yoongi hung his head in defeat. Truthfully, he had no real reason to deny the request. The members of the performance troupe were his friends as well. Mostly in part to Seokjin and Jungkook introducing them to him. He’d been feeling a little ill while his father was away a few Winters back and they came to cheer him up by performing tricks and acrobatics in the freezing snow. Yoongi wanted to believe that part of his healing process stemmed from them coming to bring a smile to his face.

Brushing his fingers through his cropped hair, he tugged at the fringe until a soft stinging sensation pulled at his roots. This was a pretty big risk he was about to take. On one hand, he would be in very big trouble with his father if he got caught. There was a good chance that he wouldn’t be able to leave to visit the small village at the foot of the mountain for several months. His martial arts training would be literal torture. 

On the other hand, he would be helping his friends out and he would also get to see the Crown City, a place he’d always longed to visit. 

Releasing his hair, he lowered his hand to his face to bite at his thumbnail. If I’m wearing a mask, it should be fine. Even if I run into Father, he’ll never recognize me with my face covered. He gave his two friends sidelong glances, roughly dropping his hand at his side. I’ll probably never get another chance like this again…

Yoongi shook his head, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Get the horses ready. I’ll meet you down at the village.” 

Seokjin and Jungkook jumped into the air, yelling with excitement. They both rambled at once, speeding off with the promise to have traveling gear ready by the time he made it down the mountain. San barked after them, his tail wagging happily as they disappeared through the forest. Groaning, he motioned for the wolf to follow him.

“I need to bathe and get you some food ready.” Yoongi picked up the bucket, gripping his training sword in the other hand. “You’ll have to stay here, San. If you’re with me, Father will discover me immediately.” 

The wolf seemed to understand his words, his ears folding back slightly as he whined. Squatting down, he pet San between his ears and the wolf licked his wrist in response. 

“I know, I know. It can’t be helped.” He smiled. “Besides, who knows how the citizens in the city will react when they see a wild wolf roaming through the streets. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

San stepped forward, licking Yoongi’s cheek. He felt a small measure of relief when he saw the wolf wagging its tail. Now that he thought about it, this would be the first time in four years that he wouldn’t have San at his side. 

“I’ll see if Kali-ssi can check on you tomorrow.” Bringing San close, he hugged his neck and nuzzled his face into his fur. “Don’t worry, you fool. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

[big-bad-ulf]

Untethered || Ulfric & Luce

Location: Dell’s Tavern

Timing: Before the last full moon

Tagging: @big-bad-ulf and @divineluce

Content: Family death mentions, thoughts/discussion of self-harming behaviors, alcohol abuse

Description: Ulfric and Luce lower their guard after a night of drinking and have a more successful heart-to-heart about their respective losses. If swearing loyalty to each other’s revenge plots can be considered a ‘success’

Grabbing the next round of beers from the bar, Luce walked back to the high top table she and Ulf were sitting at in the corner of Dell’s. The noise of the tavern was a comforting sound to her-- the roar of sports games playing on the screens in lieu of a band playing music. Balancing the two large steins of beer in her hands, Luce slid one across the table to Ulf and took her seat across from him. Lifting the large glass up in his direction, she gave him a slightly unsteady grin She’d matched him drink for drink which would have been fine… if he wasn’t a beast of a man. In a literal sense. Werewolf metabolism had to do something for processing alcohol. Whereas she was decidedly neither of those things. Taking a long drink from her glass, she nodded a bit more emphatically than she normally would, “When you’re right, you’re right. This German stuff is pretty fucking good.” Setting the glass back down, she idly pressed the back of her forearm against the glass, pressing one of her bruises to the cold surface.

Walking into Dell's this time had felt disconcerting, the place familiar yet slightly foreign after his prolonged absence. While both Bennets and Layla had resided under his roof Ulfric had always needed to be on watch, always needed a clear head. Now that threat was gone and there was no one waiting up for him, so he was free to unwind, the buzz of activity and alcohol keeping him from dwelling for too long on how that change in situation came to pass. "Those American light beers have no taste, they practically go down like water." Ulfric insisted as he took a long drink from the stein Luce place in front of him, repeating the argument he'd made several times throughout the night with increasing conviction as the beverages kicked in. "That's new, since I saw you last," He mentioned, casting a glance down at the bruised arm she pressed against the glass, the observation that he'd usually keep to himself finding its way out past his lowered inhibitions. "Did sword training get a little hands on?" He continued, providing a half-hearted out as an apology for stepping slightly over the line they'd drawn regarding talking about each other's personal bullshit. "I wouldn't have thought that would be allowed. Doesn't it defeat the purpose of, well, swords?" 

“Yeah, yeah, American beer sucks, Budlight is basically pisswater, Coors may as well be La Croix of beer.” Luce said before drinking deeply from her mug, letting the cold carbonation rush down her throat. The bar around her was just a little fuzzy at the edges, which was just how she wanted it. Made things easier, to see it through a filter like this. And there was no better filter than a beer or four. Glancing down at her bruised forearm, as though she didn’t realize what he was talking about, Luce shrugged. Adam had fucked her up. Granted, she knew he’d been holding back-- Hunter strength and all that jazz. If he had wanted to, he could have broken her arm, broken her ribs without even trying. But, even with the pulled punches, she was still sore and bruised all over. Which was exactly what she wanted. “Nah, me and a dude beat the shit out of each other in the woods.” She said, the truth slipping out easily over the rim of her stein. “No swords involved, otherwise I probably would be really fucked up.” She said with a laugh. Training swords, even synthetic training blades, were still weapons. Still dangerous. Still very capable of knocking out teeth and breaking bone. It was a good fucking thing they’d stuck to hand to hand.

“Yes, it’s all fun and games until someone gets stabbed, I suppose.” Ulfric tried to match her laugh, to restore the bubble of alcohol-infused levity that had previously surrounded them, but it was a little strangled and forced. Somehow he seemed to have crossed the threshold between contentedly tipsy and sad, wallowing drunk, creeping over the line between the two without realizing it. Though in fairness to himself, with the way his vision was slightly blurring it would’ve been difficult to see it. “That sounds like the sort of thing I would do, the woods part, especially,” The werewolf conceded, he could hardly just her for brawling, but it just didn’t fit her style. With her powers, as he understood them, no one should’ve been able get near her, at least without risking a fiery retaliation. Which meant something was wrong, or she’d let herself get hurt, which was even more wrong. “I don’t get why you let this guy touch you without inflicting severe burn damage to his balls. It just doesn’t seem like you, Luce.” He found himself voicing his thoughts aloud, before sighing and running an agitated hand through his hair once he realized what he has said, how he’d skirted their rules again. “Faen, sorry… I know I promised, but it’s not funny for me to see or think about you being in pain.”

“I dunno, a good stabbing makes it all the more fun.” Luce said with a wry grin, not noticing the forced tone that her boss’ voice had taken on. With another large gulp of beer, she looked at her stein for a moment-- fuck, how was it already half empty? Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Luce focused on her boss as the world began to tip pleasantly from side to side. Or maybe her head was wobbling? Uncertain. “It was a good time.” She replied, though the smile that had remained on her face slipped slightly as Ulfric spoke again. A lump formed in the back of her throat at his words and she stared at the rim of her glass for a moment. The thought of her being in pain? It… fuck, it sounded melodramatic even in her head but… ever since Bea had died, her life had been nothing but fucking pain. The worst kind of pain. The pain of the soul, the pain of losing someone who she had spent much of her life relying on. It was the sort of pain that came with agonizing numbness that she would do anything to get rid of. Including fighting Adam in the woods. For a brief moment, Luce contemplated telling Ulfric to fuck off. To mind his own business, that she had this under control. But did she? Was any of this “under control?” Swallowing, Luce looked at him, “Sometimes hurting feels better than not feeling at all. It helps to feel a different kind of pain.” One I deserve. 

Ulfric had fully expected a rebuff, so when Luce didn’t dodge the question he was thrown off-kilter. The sensation reminded him of when his parents had first been teaching him how to track and he’d misjudged his footing, expecting solid ground but suddenly finding himself falling. As it was then, this was unknown territory he found himself in, and he’d be wise to tread carefully. But both ‘wisdom’ and ‘caution’ were concepts that had become unappealing and difficult to comprehend several drinks ago. “If you truly felt nothing underneath all this, you wouldn’t have to work so hard to cover it up.” He countered bluntly instead. “And what is that work getting you? Bottle things up and the best-case scenario is they stay trapped that way, and things stay the way they are.” He took a long swig of his beer and contemplated the container it came in as he spoke, as if some deep truth lay within it. “More likely they spill out when you don’t want them to, or explode, and you’ve got a predisposition towards the more fiery outcome.” The image of the cup of coffee boiling over in her hand flashed through his mind, an inopportune and involuntary manifestation of the power she kept inside. He could relate to that, even if he didn’t understand the nuances of how her magic worked. “It… can help to let whatever you’re feeling flow through you on your own terms,” he found himself offering her the advice he’d often given less experienced werewolves intent on repressing their more primal impulses. “Though I’d expect yours would be different to mine.” She couldn’t rely on the moon to help her through releasing whatever negative energies were eating her up inside, but she could rely on his support, if she wanted it. 

Taking another long drink from her glass, Luce mulled over his words. Part of her wanted to lash out at him-- what did he know about her pain? What did he know about how she felt? How could he even think to understand what she was going though? But, that was just the thing, she realized. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what was happening. All he knew was that she’d been… fucked up. Had been acting out, hadn’t been showing up to work, or had been throwing herself into things harder than she should have. All he knew was that she was spiralling. Fuck. Letting out a sigh, she set the glass down, the alcohol and mixed emotions churning in her stomach. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to make her burdens his. She didn’t want to show this side of weakness to him. But, another side of Luce wanted to tell him everything. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could do this. How much longer could she hold onto the burden of her sister’s death, the responsibility of her resurrection, the fear and self-doubt that threatened to bring her to her knees. “I…” Luce took in a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, it might.” She said, digging her fingers into her arm, pressing hard into the floral designs etched into her skin. “Someone killed my sister. Bea.” Saying the words out loud, it felt just like it had the night she’d told Remmy what had happened. A tidal wave of emotion, guilt, sadness, anger, but most of all pain-- it all rushed over her. Luce gripped her fingers tighter, her shoulders tensing. “They were hunting Nell, but Bea… sacrificed herself. Saved her.” And she’d done nothing.

Luce’s confession brought Ulfric back to that night outside the trailer when Ari had returned to finally speak the words out loud and make them real; My sister is dead. His stomach plummeted, and he was briefly overcome by the impulse to find some kind of blanket to wrap her up in like he had the young wolf, despite how pointless that was when she could generate her own warmth. “What is it about sisters and self-sacrifice?” He found himself mumbling into his hands, leaning forward with his elbows braced against the table under the weight of the news. He hadn’t meant to say that, but a confession of his own in return for hers seemed fair. “Ariana’s sister is dead too, for similarly noble, bullshit reasons.” And his own sister was dead for completely arbitrary, bullshit reasons but that was beside the point. “Not that I’m trying to pit your grief against mine. Yours would kick mine’s sorry ass.” He explained. “I just want you to know I have some experience to back me up when I say that I’m sure… Bea was a good person, and the last she would want is to see any of her sisters hurt. Inflict that pain on the world if you need to. Throw something, light something on fire, tell me to get fucked in some creative way,” He suggested, searching for human substitutes for the innate mechanism of releasing pent up negativity that he’d been born with. Luckily, he was fairly certain he could smooth over anything she did short of burning the whole bar down with a sizable tip. “We can even go out back and I’ll let you get a few swings in. I doubt I’d feel it much right now, anyway. Just don’t direct this back on yourself, energy can’t escape a closed circuit like that.” 

“Sisters. We’ll fight and bicker like hell, but someone comes for one of us… We’ll go to the ends of the earth to hunt them down.” Luce said quietly, her finger tracing one of the flower petals on her arm, staring at one of the snakes nestled among the flowers. Her mother. Her father. Neither of them knew. They were half a world away, none the wiser to what had happened to their favorite daughter. None the wiser to what their remaining daughters were sacrificing to bring her back. At Ulfric’s next words, Luce felt her stomach lurch. Ariana’s sister-- “Celeste?” She asked, aghast, staring at him. No. No, no, no. She hadn’t messaged the other woman, hadn’t heard from her in weeks. She thought maybe she’d read the signs wrong, that she’d just been a little too pushy, that Celeste was ghosting her. It had happened for. Plenty of women had done it to her. She had never thought that she was dead. “Fuck. Fuck.” Luce said her voice cracking as her jaw clenched. “I… I’m sorry.” She said thickly, sucking in a deep breath to try and keep from crying. Waving a hand, Luce lifted her glass and drained the rest of the beer from the stein. “Don’t. Don’t say that. I’ve already tried that. Tried to kill some monsters. Killed a couple. Scared a few people. Burned down the woods. Didn’t matter. It all just felt… like shit. Nothing helped. Nothing’s helped.” Luce whispered, staring down at the tabletop, unable to meet his eyes.

Despite his dampened senses, it was obvious to Ulfric that Luce was close to tears, but he managed to keep from commenting on it despite his lowered impulse control. As close as they were, she’d never broken down in front of him, and he didn’t want to scare or shame her into restraining her emotions again by acknowledging it. “Alright, I get it, nothing’s helped.” He eventually accepted her response, rising from the booth to head toward the bar. When he sank back into his seat a few minutes later with freshly refilled steins he sighed and picked up where he left off. “Time’s supposed to, right? Let’s just pass the time then.” He nudged the glass towards her and raised his own in a tentative toast. “To sisters?”

When the man stood up to get more drinks, Luce buried her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking slightly as she held back tears. Bea. Celeste. What the fuck. What the fuck. Why were the women around her dying? Who else would be next? And there was nothing that she could do for Celeste. Or for Ariana. Ariana-- fuck. She was just a kid. 18, but a kid. And she’d just lost her sister. Christ. Rubbing her face, Luce did her best to school her expression back to one of relative calm. The pain was still clear on her face, but the increased swaying of the room around them helped ease it away. “To sisters… avenging sisters.” She said, tapping her glass against his before drinking deeply, letting the alcohol wash over her. If she drank enough, maybe then she could just… forget this fresh, brutal news. “You… You said time’s supposed to help.” Luce said, echoing his words, her words running together as she stared at him with bleary eyes. “Did it? When you, when you lost your siblings. Did time help?”

“Did what?” Ulfric asked, her words becoming harder to decipher as they blurred together. “Oh, ...right.” He continued, recognition coming over him slowly. He was surprised she’d remembered. He only mentioned them in passing to explain why he didn’t get many visitors. ‘I’m the middle child of five, but my two older siblings are busy taking care of the family business back home, and the younger ones passed away a long time ago.’ An ocean of time, bigger than the ocean he’d crossed to get where he was now. Had it helped? “It helped somewhat,” He answered softly, after another steadying mouthful of ale. “Not as much as vengeance,” He added honestly, before reclining back into his chair to survey the bustling bar around them. “But I doubt you’ll find much of that at Dell’s. Time and company will have to do for now.” 

“Somewhat.” Luce nodded, taking another large gulp of beer. The bar was spinning around her, her emotions hanging by a thread. But, she kept them at bay as best she could. She focused on Ulfric, focused on his words. On the fact that he knew her pain. He’d felt the fresh sting of losing siblings at one time, even if it had been years ago. But… Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Luce glanced around at Dell’s. No one was around, no one near at least. And it was loud enough that no one would be able to tell who’d said anything, even if they had werewolf ears like Ulf. “Not here in Dell’s. But, vengeance…” She let out a dry chuckle. “Sisters. You don’t fuck with them.” She said, her eyes dull as she leaned back into her chair. Her hand tapped against the top of their table, small sparks of blue flame drifting from her fingertips. “Sisters, they’ll chase you to hell and back again.” 

At Luce’s glance around the room, Ulfric vaguely remembered that he wasn't supposed to talk of things like vengeance around mundane company. He generally tried to keep from alluding to things he’d done in the past at all, but he found at that moment the only person whose judgment he feared was hers, and that didn’t come. The acceptance he felt instead was like another layer of intoxication. None of the bar patrons seemed to be listening to them, likely because many of them had come to the bar with the goal of forgetting the things they’d seen and heard that they couldn’t or didn’t want to explain and weren’t looking to add to their burdens. Still, for her sake, he leaned in closer and kept his voice low as he nodded “Sisters can be formidable creatures.” The flames that sparked from her hand were uncomfortably warm in such close proximity to his, but he didn’t back away from them. “I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of one on the path to retribution.” He searched her eyes for some hint of what she was thinking, planning before deciding it didn’t matter. He already knew if she asked for his help with this he’d agree, details be damned. He wouldn’t be able to back down from the chance to help another sister, to do it better this time. “I’d stand by your side though,” The werewolf assured her, doing his best to keep her steady in his vision, to imprint the promise in his mind even after his sobriety returned. “If you needed me to.” 

Locking eyes with Ulfric, Luce watched the way he leaned in. “Yeah. Yeah, they can be.” She said, smothering the flames with her palm, choking the blue flames out. She could feel the heat against her palm, but like all fire, it didn't burn. A part of her wondered what it would feel like, to burn like that. But, it never happened. The flames didn’t bite against her skin, they never went against her. At his words, she took another long sip of beer as she mulled over his offer. “Thanks, Ulf. But… I’ve got it covered.” She said, a smile curling on her lips, cold and cruel. “The motherfucker who did this, he’s going to wish he’d never even thought about coming after my family.” August. She’d held him in her hands, threatened to melt the skin from his face, had come so close to killing him… Next time, she wouldn’t hold back. Next time, he would know just how badly he’d fucked up by setting that hunter on her family. Luce let out a long sigh, she looked at him. “Same goes for you. With… Ariana’s situation. If you need help, if she needs help-- just say the word. I’ll do whatever I can to help. No one should lose a sister.” No one should feel the pain she did.

“I don’t doubt it, on both counts,” Ulfric told her, picking up on the determination in her tone, but not the iciness that might have given him pause if he had a clearer head. “You’ve got a deal.” He tapped his knuckles against her shoulder lightly in lieu of shaking her hand that had only recently stopped sparking, before tipping his glass to her and drinking deep to seal the new arrangement. Sinking bonelessly back into his seat he hummed, mulling over their conversation and the unexpected turns it had taken. “Hmm, all this talk of revenge makes me feel…” He searched his addled brain for a way to describe the sense of unfulfilled emptiness that had settled into his gut. “Hungry. Buffalo wings? Yes, buffalo wings.” He asked and answered his own question without pausing for breath, certain that was the solution. “I’m buying.”