#i needed to see her... curiosity got me. i dream of this house genuinely nearly every night

[love-songs-for-emma]

i was on zillow today, fantasizing about being able to live somewhere, when i came across the listing for my childhood home. it wasn't active/being sold, but it was on there with some pics of the interior. and my GOD. THEY MADE HER UGLY. THEY TOOK HER RUSTIC PUSSY OUT. WHAT THE FUCK

[lovetorn]

Life Was A Willow [Part 2]

Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: It's always been hunters vs. witches, right?

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings for Part 2: violence, mentions of death (familial), swearing

A/N: part 2 !!!! thank you so much for the support and feedback from part 1, omg thank you !! well, i hope you enjoy part 2 ahhhhh !!

It’s 9 pm and Y/n still waits for the signal. She looks in the direction of the Castle and swings her feet back and forth from where she sits on the cottage’s roof.

The air is cold and the trees continue to rustle, the same way they do every day, but tonight, she has an eerie feeling about it. Regret slips into her mind sometimes, telling her that she is foolish for even accepting such a vague invitation by someone she doesn’t even know—but it was so intriguing and she trusts them (she doesn’t exactly know why).

Suddenly, a large pop startles Y/n out of her daze. Sparkles dance in the sky as fireworks burst from the land below. She quickly notes that the explosions are coming from the West side of the Castle and takes that as the signal. Very grand indeed.

Y/n jumps from the roof, landing gracefully on the dirt, and takes off running through the forest. She misses tree roots emerging from the earth and ducks under low branches from the undergrowth. The only thing that lights her path is the moonlight and at this moment, Y/n is thriving. The full moon allows her abilities to heighten and she places her full trust in her instincts.

The fireworks continue to explode and Y/n fills with more adrenaline, the sound making her scream out in joy. She’s excited about the meeting, and she doesn’t even know who it is. And maybe that’s what she’s eager for; the unknown.

The entirety of the concept scared her before, but now she’s exhilarated. And as the show comes to a close, Y/n nears the East side of the Castle. It’s completely silent at this end and the eerie feeling she had before creeps back. It’s not a feeling of uncertainty but one of opportunity and her instincts are telling her to take it.

When she reaches the abandoned cottage, Y/n inhales sharply. There’s no light coming from the house and the door remains closed. As she steps onto the stairs in front, the wood creams beneath her and she scolds for giving away herself to the person inside. Instead of sneaking around, Y/n stomps towards the door and swings it open.

She sees a man in the corner and makes her way towards him, her hands out and ready in case this interaction goes south.

“Who are you? And how do you know me?” Y/n calls out. The man jumps slightly and lifts his head. And in the moonlight flooding in through the window, Y/n recognises him as Dream, even with his mask off. He stands in a white button-up and brown pants, his hunter boots on and a newsboy hat sat on his blonde hair.

“Dream?”

“Hi, Y/n. I knew you would recognise me.” Y/n doesn’t want to look away from him. This is the first time she’s seen his face, and despite the darkness, she sees how handsome he is.

“Why—how? Why did you want to meet me in such a creepy way?” Y/n asks in disgust, picking a cobweb out of her hair and then off of her shoulder; they seem to be everywhere. Her expression falls back to one of admiration when she looks back at him. However, the moonlight lacked the light Y/n needed to see him properly.

Dream laughs slowly. “I forgot to bring a lighter for the lamp. Do you think you could, uh—maybe,”

“Glady,” Y/n sighs and flicks her hand towards the candle in the glass encasing. It immediately comes to life and the room becomes brightly lit. Her eyes fall onto Dream again and she finally sees him; his piercing green eyes and the scar that runs from the top of his left temple to the corner of his lip.

“Wow,” Dream mumbles under his breath. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you, and I know that everybody I know would, just, obliterate me for even thinking about doing this, but I needed to talk to you about—“

“You’re rambling.”

“Right, right...”

Y/n squints at the man and then tilts her head. “Whose C?”

Dream’s eyes widen as he nods. “Yeah, uh, that’s me. My name’s Clay.”

The witch doesn’t say anything as she stares at him. “So why do they call you Dream?”

This isn’t where Dream thought the conversation would go, but he’s happy they’re not fighting.

“My mother came up with the nickname when I was born. I nearly didn’t make it and then through some miracle, I did. So, she called me her Dream.” Y/n can tell the story makes him emotional, so she doesn’t push any further.

“That’s really sweet, Dream.” And at the sound of his real name, Dream perks up slightly before he cracks a smile. Y/n grins back at him; a real genuine smile. The pair stand in the low lit room in comfortable silence, until Y/n’s curiosity gets the better of her.

“What did you want to talk about?” She asks. Dream nods once and continues from where he was cut off before.

“I wanted to discuss the possibility of a truce between witches and hunters,” Dream isn’t smiling anymore, instead his lips are screwed up and his hands fidget in front of him. Y/n, however, grins even bigger.

“I’m all for that, honestly. I’m tired of being on edge every day and being scared for my life. If we can find a way to create peace, even for a little bit, I’m on board.” Y/n keeps it short for now, not wanting to scare him off by how passionate she feels about the situation.

Dream’s eyes light up at the sound of her agreeing. “Really?” Y/n nods and becomes surprised when she feels Dream’s arms wrap around her. “Thank you, thank you.”

“No, Dream, thank you! I’ve been trying to convince people of this for years. I’m really glad that you feel the same way.” The pair pull apart and Dream flicks his eyes down to Y/n’s lips for a split second.

“You’re so pretty,” Y/n nearly chokes at his comment. Dream feels his cheeks burn when the words tumble out and soon they’re both flustered. “Sorry! Oh my, I’m sorry, that didn't mean to slip out—”

“Dream, it’s fine. I think you’re pretty too; especially without the mask.”

The hunter swats the witch’s shoulder playfully. “Stop~” The pair laugh together, and then proceed to stand in another comfortable silence. The wind howls and whistles outside and makes the cottage creak, adding to the eerie aura that surrounds it.

“What’s with the hat? It’s nighttime.”

Dream plucks the accessory off of his head and runs his opposite hand through his hair, the soft locks falling back into place when his hand returns to his side. “Part of the disguise, duh.”

Y/n squints at him, her expression morphing into one of mischief. “Isn’t the mask a disguise in itself, though? Also, put the hat back on, you look handsome with it.” It’s time for Dream to blush now. He covers his face with his hat and scoffs softly. “Y/n!”

The girl slaps her hand over her mouth to muffle her embarrassed laughs. “It’s true!”

The man rolls his eyes before placing the hat back on his head. “Happy?”

Y/n nods before telling him to answer about the mask.

“Well, no, nobody at the Castle actually knows what I look like—except for my best friends, Sapnap and George.”

“George? As in Prince George?” Y/n is shocked, to say the least. She now understands why Dream is so passionate about the peace between the Hunters and Witches. Prince George is known for his differing morals and ideas from his family, which makes him stand out from the other Royals. Y/n admires his bravery and courage to do so.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends since we were young. I’m jealous that he can be so open with his opinions in that Castle—Lord knows if I was, I'd be executed,” This makes Y/n’s stomach drop. “But, it’s okay, with your help, hopefully, we can convince humans and magical-kind alike, that there can be peace. A—And we can live together in harmony, without being consumed by the overbearing thought of death every moment of our lives.”

Dream stops his tangent, his face flushed and his eyes pleading. Y/n feels like crying; she has waited years for someone to be as passionate as her about this topic. “I’ll help you, Dream, no matter what; because I wholeheartedly believe we can do this. I trust you.”

Y/n shocks herself with this statement; she’s never trusted a human before.

“And I trust you Y/n.” The pair stare at each other, smiles spread across their cheeks as the night outside slips away, and then it’s just them; standing in the main area of a small, abandoned cottage that sits East of the Castle, lit up with a lantern that casts a warm glow over the pair. Y/n can almost say it looks and feels magical.

“Ok, enough flirting, let’s get planning on the truce. Sounds like a plan, doll?” Dream gives her a lopsided smile and Y/n feels her heart rate increase at the sight of him.

“Where were you?” Wilbur says. His voice is deeper than usual and fits in perfectly with the way he’s sitting ominously in the dark. Y/n stops tiptoeing towards her room and turns to face him; defeated that she got caught. However, she still remains giddy and her heart beats faster for other reasons.

“I was meeting with Schlatt—I need more toadstools for a potion I’m making.”

Wilbur squints at her, his lips curling into a frown. “I know you’re lying, and so does Niki.”

Y/n sighs and starts walking towards him. “I’m sorry—“ She pauses when she sees Wilbur shake his head.

“Don’t.”

Y/n screws her lips together and nods once. Her once excited demeanour fading away when she sees Wilbur’s look of disappointment. “I was meeting one of the new hunters, Dream.”

Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows, “What? Why?”

“We’re formulating a truce amongst witches and hunters.”

He raises his eyebrows in both surprise and suspicion. “Okay? And why are you doing this? We don’t need peace.”

“Uh, so we’re not in danger every living second?” Y/n’s nerves grow into anger. “Why are you so against the chance of maybe, finally getting this?”

Wilbur shakes his head and stands up, the chair screeching against the wood floors as he moves. “Haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds?”

Y/n is at a loss for words while the tall man rolls his eyes and leaves, avoiding her as he circles around her to walk down the hallway.

His abrupt exit confuses Y/n. Why is Wilbur so against peace with the Hunters?

—

Dream manages to sneak into the Hunter’s Wing before they lock the front doors for the night. He sits silently on the bench in the training room and slips his boots off, making sure to place them on the floor as quiet as possible. He takes his hat off of his head and holds it in his palms, smiling stupidly at the inanimate object. The flame in the lantern next to him is fizzling out and it's hard to see 4 feet in front of him.

“Dream?” Even in his daze, Dream can sense the anger and fear in Sapnap’s voice.

“Sapnap? Why are you awake?” The younger boy walks out from the hallway and towards him.

“Me? Where were you? It’s midnight.”

Dream sighs and rests the hat on the bench next to him. “I was out.”

“Out? You mean meeting with the witch?”

Dream’s eyes widen. “How do you know that?”

“Fireworks don’t just go off for no reason, Dream. And I found the note in your room.” Sapnap says, ripping the letter from his pyjama bottoms pocket.

“Just say you have a crush on her, Dream!” Sapnap yells, throwing his arms up in defeat.

“I don't—I promise, Sapnap.”

“Fine, if you don’t like the witch, then kill her.” Dream’s dumbfounded. He stares at his best friend with such bewilderment that even Sapnap feels a twinge of guilt. Dream sighs, carding his hand through his hair in frustration and confusion.

He doesn’t reply, even when George arrives in a hurry, still in the process of wrapping a dressing gown around his body.

“What’s happened? I heard yelling.” The pair remain frozen, refusing to meet the Prince’s glare as they avoid eye contact.

George shakes his head, “Has this got to do with Dream meeting with the witch?”

“George! How do you know, too?”

George huffs. “I know everything that happens in and outside of my Castle. But, fireworks? Really?”

Dream throws his hands down in frustration. “Yes, fireworks! It was a good distraction and it was a signal for her anyway.”

George eyes the blonde before he crosses his arms over his chest. “As much as you hate to admit it, it's obvious that you’re fond of her, Dream. And no matter what happens, I’ll be by your side, okay? You know that.”

“What the fuck?” Sapnap spits. “You have his back? George, I can tolerate your ideals about the magical kind, but this is the witch who killed half of the hunter population.”

Dream stills. “What?”

“You’ve gone and done it now, Sapnap!”

“Y/n killed people?”

“Dream—“ George goes to speak, but he’s cut off by Sapnap.

“Yes! That’s why I’ve been trying to warn you! Why do you think we got this job so easily?” Dream stares at the concrete floor, his heart dropping into his stomach. He can’t believe it, he refuses to.

“Sapnap!” George snaps. The younger boy cowers away slightly, his once confronted facade crumbling at the sound of the Prince's tone. “Stop it, right now. You are in no place to tell him this, okay? You may be my best friend but that doesn’t excuse you from doing this.”

Dream chews on his bottom lip quietly as he watches Sapnap turn around and stomp out of the training room, but not before he scrunches up the letter and throws it on the floor. “Thanks.”

George’s gaze remains on the door. “Don’t thank me. He should know better anyway, considering his last relationship.”

The blonde nods once, reminding himself of the youngest boy’s past relationship with a fairy from the kingdom next door. Dream lets out a laugh at the thought.

For the next few days, Y/n hears nothing from Dream. She worries for him, has he been caught?

She stands on the porch of her cottage, hoping, begging for a sign that he is okay. Clouds plague the blue skies above and Y/n knows the bad omens swirling around the kingdom are the cause—and the inside of Niki’s crystal ball had burst with black and dark red clouds which had only confirmed her suspicions.

The wind howls through the trees and calls to her, speaking words of concern under its tongue. Y/n rolls her eyes and sighs, she knows to be careful, especially with the humans inching closer to their world.

However, a faint voice draws Y/n’s attention away from the wind and to the well in the corner of the garden. The sound confuses her at first, and then the wind’s guidance is forgotten as she makes her way towards it. The short fence around the area is still broken from the fight with the hunters weeks ago, and nobody has had a chance to repair it yet, so Y/n takes it upon herself to fix it.

The whispers from the well become a string of mumbles and are impossible to decipher as Y/n kneels with her back towards the forest—and for the first time, she is anxious about what lies within it.

But, before she can even begin picking up the pieces of wood, the sound of someone approaching her at a fast pace alerts Y/n immediately. She spins around with her hands out and is shocked when she sees Dream with his sword raised. The ground moves beneath her feet as she uses the earth’s power to aid her in meeting his strength.

“Dream?” She screams, her body struggling to resist the force of his weapon. Sparkles fall from her fingertips as she pushes back.

“You killed an entire army of people, Y/n!” Dream’s tone is low and angry and Y/n knows he would have found out eventually.

“Dream, I didn’t do that!” Y/n exclaims and Dream swings his sword backwards.

“How can I trust you? Hm? After all, you’ve killed people!” Y/n could cry at his utter naivety. She drops her arms by her sides as Dream glares at her in pure disgust.

“Instead of fighting, can we talk about this?” Y/n pleas. Her feet move swiftly beneath her, maneuvering her body away from Dream’s sword.

Suddenly, Dream brings the sword down to slice into Y/n’s arm, but a force pushes it back towards him, making the blade fly high into the air before it clatters onto the ground.

Y/n stands with her hands out, remnants of glitter falling around her fingers. “I told you! I’d never do that, and I have proof.”

“Proof?” Dream still stares at his sword, unable to meet Y/n’s eye.

“Proof. Now, how about we calm down and I’ll show it to you. Okay? Sounds like a plan?” Dream nods slowly, turning his head to face her. Finally, his green eyes soften and the raging fire that burns within them fizzles out.

“Okay.”

Y/n sighs before she begins. “When a witch kills an innocent; a human, they gain a marking on the back of their neck to signify the betrayal of the harmony between the two. However, since King James, that peace has been terminated; hence his need for hunters, like yourself.

“But, anyway, everybody in this damn kingdom thinks I killed those hunters, but I don’t have the mark,” Y/n turns around, her hand going to lift up her hair from her neck. The skin is clear, with no markings, nothing.

Dream nods, furrowing his eyebrows. “How do I know you didn’t just cast a spell to make it disappear?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “There’s no way to cover up the marking; it’ll just shine through whatever you put over it. It’s permanent and very obvious.”

“I told you, Dream, I didn’t kill them. I’d never kill an innocent.”

“Why didn’t you show them, then? You've had proof this entire time and never thought to actually show anyone?” Dream is bewildered. Y/n nods slowly, understanding his argument.

“I don't need to prove myself to your kind.” Is all she says. Dream waits for her to continue but soon realises she's not going to. “Fair point.”

“So, why did you come at me swinging? Did you really believe I would do that?” She whispers and Dream feels his heart sink. He is speechless for a few moments—did he really think that? Or was he feeding into Sapnap’s ideology of witches?

“S—Sapnap convinced me of things. I didn’t believe it at first, but the more he went on—I guess he got into my head.”

Y/n cocks her eyebrow and scoffs out a laugh. “Yeah, he did. You could’ve easily killed me with the amount of anger you had.”

This makes Dream’s breath catch in his throat. “I—I’m so sorry, Y/n. That was never my intention—”

The witch shakes her head and holds her hand up. “It’s okay, Dream. You didn’t offend me. I’m still here, with you, right? Isn’t that enough to tell you that I’m not angry?”

“Yes! Yes, sorry—”

“Stop saying sorry, it’s annoying.” Y/n giggles, holding her hand out to grasp Dream’s.

“So—”

“Dream!”

The cottage is quiet, too quiet, and Y/n walks into the small kitchen, hoping to bake a cake to cure her boredom. But, Wilbur sits at the round dining table, his beanie and a sewing needle in his hands.

“Wil, I wanted to talk to you,” Y/n mumbles, pulling out a chair. Wilbur doesn’t meet her eye as she does so, continuing to patch up his beanie that got ripped on a tree last week.

“Why are you against harmony with humans?”

Wilbur sighs softly. He places the beanie on the table and turns to face Y/n. “Y/n, when I was young, I lived amongst the humans in a town not far from here. We tried as hard as we could to mix in and not draw attention to ourselves.”

The girl listens intently, both curious and scared for his answer. She can tell the story makes him anxious so she reaches for his hand that lays on the wooden table. “Go on, Wil. I’m here.”

Wilbur nods, his eyes already full of tears as he continues.

“However, one day, my family decided to move to a more secluded area within the town, so my father could teach me more about magic without the risk of being caught. When we entered our new cottage in the forest, we were ambushed and they killed my entire family, leaving me, the only child, alone. I was left there, with my parents' bodies for weeks. I was made to fend for myself until I found Niki in a cave several years later. I was only 7, Y/n.”

Tears cascade down both of their cheeks. Wilbur takes in a shaky breath before he collapses onto the table out of grief. Y/n immediately leaps into action, wrapping her arms around the older man and letting him use her for support. His broken sobs and heart-wrenching cries stab Y/n all over, and she immediately regrets asking him about it.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Wilbur,” She didn’t push anymore, and that was all Wilbur needed.

[shadowturtlesstuff]

You belong with me

so i decided to post wadsworth first. modern au cressworth- you belong with me taylor swift

Thomas throws his phone down on the bed with frustration swirling around him as he paces. I set down my pen and wait till he turns and spots me. We often find ourselves talking via paper throughout the nights, from questions about our day to helping each other study. It is also often we watch each other be angry at something, yet I've not seen him this bad before. Finally Thomas turns and catches my eye. He stands there for a second before smiling and I quickly move around my various workbooks till I find my notebook I use to talk to him. I take my sharpie and write: ‘Are you okay?’

I watch him shake his head ever so slightly, seemingly baffled at it, but he walks to his window and opens it. The wind brushes his deep brown hair and I can't help but want to reach out and run my hand through it. I curse myself for it as he motions for me to open my window. Moving my books and pens off of me and cursing at my stiff leg as I go and open the window. Somehow I manage to hit my arm in the process and I curse, which makes Thomas laugh slightly so I forgive my body for hurting me. 

“You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” he teases and I relax slightly because of it.

“Fuck you,” I scowl at his smirk and the frigid wind. His eyes light up at my temper. We live across from one another, if we were to reach out we could hold hands. Which we have done. When I got rejected from the specific school I was desperate to go to, Thomas had managed to climb into my room and hold me as I cried. He's only ever needed to climb over twice to cheer me up, the other times have been to study or watch some romance programme he thought was good. I hoped wherever was troubling was something that wouldn't resort to me having to climb over. As much as I would want to, my brain may have a hard time letting me attempt it. 

“I assume dear Wadworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” he asks, eyes focused on behind me and fingers tapping his window sill as he sits. I watch as his cat, ridiculously named Sir Isaac Mewton, jumps off his bed and onto his seat next to him. He grabs the cat and kisses the top of his head before holding him in his lap.

“Perhaps,” I say, moving so I rest my head on the wall, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” his eyes shift to mine and despite him still being angry they soften at my attempt at humour. I am not as good as Thomas at using humour to help someone, but he always does it for me. 

“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” he smiles down at his cat. I remember the day he brought him home, he made me go over to his house and we spent all night playing with him. Thomas did, I ended up studying and making notes for the both of us while he gave Sir Isaac a ‘grand tour’ of his new home. The smile vanishes off Thomas's face and once again his gaze goes past me. “I assume you saw the call, well that was William. Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumour that I'm with Miss Whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I watch him scoff, anger once again taking over his features. His cat nuzzles into him and Thomas leans into his cat. If I wasn't also mad now I'd smile at the sight. 

“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?” 

“Yes.”

“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' I find myself standing and pacing, trying to quell my own rising anger. A year ago, William had been my lab partner for a few weeks, he was friendly, but people had got it in their head that we were somehow together, and he went with it. Gossiped about me, even Thomas, and then was somehow enraged I dared to stop those rumours and be angry at him. I'd come home one day when it was particularly too much, when my father had found out and lectured me about it, as though I was in the wrong for standing up for myself. He'd cancel my lesson with my uncle out of spite, and I stormed upstairs. Thomas had been at the window, as if he was expecting me. One look at his face made me cry. I managed to open my window and he'd once again climbed in and held me as I cried. Then he made us watch this awful romance film together and held me still as I fell asleep on him. 

“I have never once,” Thomas says, dragging me back from those awful memories, “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” He drags a hand through his hair. “She's just- a lot.”

I huff a sigh. She is awful. Had been awful to Liza and I for years. With her short skirts, high heels and the most rotten attitude I have ever witnessed. It wasn't often that I'd hate someone like that, someone so different from me in nearly every way, but she has tried to make me feel that I don't belong because of my interest in science and not the traditional girl interests.. “That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Beside, you wouldn't work, she's too- your,” I have no idea how to explain how excellent Thomas is, how wonderful his mind is and how kind he is. It's not a side he shows to most, yet if he was ever with someone like Whitehall, it would be disastrous. I take my seat again and find him looking at me, suppressing a smirk and raising an eyebrow at me. “What?” I ask. I shrink under his gaze, pulling my hoodie over my legs as I curl in on myself. 

“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”

“Your absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” I roll my eyes as he shifts so he is fully facing me, eyes completely focused, no sign of the anger he had only moments ago, “your too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” don’t belong with her.

Ever since he mentioned the idea of being with someone else, real or not, I have tried to ignore how much it pained me that he would be with someone else. I never expected to want to be with him, yet lately the premise of dating him has seemed very pleasing to me.

“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” his voice is deeper than normal and his gaze travels over me even though his eyes are on my own. Thomas pats Sir Issac and his cat jumps off behind him with a whine. His hand reaches out for mine and I lean forward, wind making my loose strands of hair fly across my face. His hands are warm as I take them but his smile warms me more. It is small but genuine and filled with the normal Cresswell charm mixed with something I can't quite name. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.” 

“I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-” he looks down contemplating his words before he once again locks his gaze on mine, his dark brown eyes bright, “I dont belong with her, your right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.” 

I blink at the honesty. I want to scream that you belong with me; but if Thomas is in love with someone else then I suppose I will have to find a way to deal with it. I try to keep the hurt of my face even as he smiles at me. 

“I-” Thomas lets go of my hand and stands. There's a silence between us until he motions for me to move. The idiot is going to climb into my house so he can tell me about his new found love. Like the fool I am, I'm going to let him talk about this girl who makes him look this happy. Even though it hurts that it's not me who is making him look like that. Even though I'm the one who makes him laugh when he is angry or upset. Even though I'm the one who knows his favourite songs, the books beside his bed and all his hopes and dreams.

He climbs over and sets himself on the window sill, giving me room to sit across from him. I do, even as I try to ignore the weight pressing down on my chest. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I say and mean it. I once again curl into myself, hoodie covering my legs as i watch him continue to smile at me, 

“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”

“Wait,” I blurt out, my mind catching up, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”

“Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” He starts laughing at my gaping mouth until I collect myself enough to scowl at him slightly for laughing. Thomas reaches out for my hand, moving closer to me until my back is pressed against the wall, my hoodie no longer over my legs as he rests his other hand on my leg, warmth seeping through me. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.” 

Silence washes over us as we stare, trying to convince ourselves this is really happening. “I have something to show you.” My voice is barely about a whisper and I slide out of his grasp even though I don't want to. I walk to my bed where all my notebooks were left open and my notebooks sits. I open it out and let a piece of paper fall out. Facing Thomas I open the sheet slowly, watch him read the words. His eyes lit up at them.

I love you.

I take my place beside him again, his hands finding their way in mine once again. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time. Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Thomas just stares at me, eyes flicking down to my lips every now and then. His hands are making circles on my leg, not entirely intentional. Thomas has always shown if he is excited or nervous by either tapping or making shapes on surfaces. The world slows completely as he leans in and presses his lips against mine. He pulls back ever so slightly, resting his head against mine and we are both smiling wildly at each other, pressing kisses until he leans further away. Thomas goes back to his side of the wall, which may as well be across the other side of the world, then he pulls me to him and I twist so that my back is against his. He holds me as we both look out the window, enjoying the freeing feeling of telling each other how we feel. 

“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.” 

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @padfoot-sirius-black-blog @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore ​ @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto​ @throneofsc @bookscressworth​

[mackeydoodledoo]

I Only Swim Free: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You’ve done swimming all your life. You’ve gotten to your dream college on a scholarship for your outstanding freestyle technique back in high school. Relationships never crossed your mind however, that was before you met your swim team captain: Bela Dimitrescu.

Warning: Alcohol/Drinking, Introverted-ness (At Parties), jealousy/slight-heartbreak

A/N: Rather than having this be a one chapter story, I decided to make this thing a whole series!

-------------------------------------------------------------

“This Photo assignment is due next class, make sure there is no slacking off,” Your Photo professor announces, “Now, that will be all for today, I can’t wait to see what you students will come up with.”

As you finish up your last class of the day, you grab a quick bite to eat before you headed off to the sports facility for practice.

The Assignment: You are to create a collage of photos taken on your DSLR camera. However, they need to be edited in some way. The theme and the way of editing is entirely up to students. 

You go down the list of options in your head as you get yourself changed into your new swimsuit. You feel a slight tap on your shoulder, making you lose your train of thought.

“Hey y/n,” Bela smiles, “I just want to apologize for not letting you finish yesterday. My boyfriend he’s- the worst at timing. What was it that you wanted to ask me yesterday?”

A date... I want to ask you on a date Bela...

“Oh don’t worry about it,” You lie, “It was nothing important anyway.”

“Okay,” She says, “Hey do you have any plans tomorrow night?” 

“No, don’t think so... Why?” You ask

“My boyfriend’s fraternity house is throwing some huge party and I was wondering if you would like to show up... With me,” Bela explains

“Wouldn’t that be a question for your boyfriend?” You ask out of pure curiosity

“He’s apart if the fraternity silly,” Bela giggles, “I don’t want to be showing up alone. so, how about it?”

She’s going to be the one leaving you alone for her boyfriend... Won’t she?

“Okay,” You answer unconsciously

“Great,” she smiles, “I’ll pick you up around six tomorrow.”

You watch her walk up to the coach and you follow the rest of the girls to begin practice. 

After practice that evening, you only rinsed out your hair in hopes to avoid Bela. However, once you had just gotten out of the shower, you realized you unconsciously did your “post-swim shower routine”. So you didn’t rush out of there.

“You okay y/n?” Bela asks

She was wearing her undergarments that time so you were slightly thankful.

“Yeah-yeah,” You sigh

“Are you sure?” She asks

“Yeah, practice is different from high school,” You say, changing the subject, hoping Bela wouldn’t notice how you felt about yesterday

“Oh- I just remembered,” Bela says, reaching into her bag

You look over and notice that your hoodie is in her hands. You had too many already... 

“Keep it,” You say, “You make it look good better than me anyway.”

“Even if my name isn’t on here?” She asks

“Definitely,” You smile, holding the locker room door open for her, “Besides, doing indoor percussion for almost nine years now gets you to own too many hoodies.”

“Nine years?!” Bela asks

You nod, “Fun fact, after high school swim season for the girls’ team, I’d turn to music and participate in indoor percussion.”

“Do you still do it? Indoor Percussion?” Bela asks

“Yeah,” You say, “I currently have a contract with a top tier world class percussion ensemble for this coming season.”

“That’s awesome y/n,” Bela smiles, “I’ve never been to one of those kinds of shows.”

“Well, I juts might bring you along,” You suggest, “It’s fun to watch.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” She smiles

Her boyfriend yet again pulls up to the both of you. You watch her drive off with him as your heart sinks again. 

Why are you feeling this way when you clearly know she has a boyfriend? Grow up kid...

You walk to your car once more and decide to treat yourself out for something to eat.

Once you got back to your studio apartment, you felt your phone vibrate. When you open it up you see a text message from an unsaved number.

Hey, it’s Bela. This is y/n’s number right?

Hey, yeah. That’s my number.

Despite knowing she has a boyfriend, you enjoy talking to her. Like friends. Right?

The next day you focused on school work however, putting off the photo assignment as you haven’t gotten a clue on what to do. However, you see your phone’s screen light up again and see a message from Bela.

Hey, just a reminder, just dress like you’re going to the club.

Okay, got it.

You stand up from your couch, declaring that was enough homework for the rest of the night, you go through your closet and spot an outfit; red crop tank top/lace bralette combo, ripped skinny jeans, dr. martens and a leather jacket to top it all off. 

Perfect. Wait until Bela sees you.

When you finally put on your leather jacket, you decided to put on some dark red lipstick to give more ‘oomf’ to your look. When you had finished applying it, you hear your phone ring. You look over and see Bela’s icon on the screen. You unlock your phone and hold it up to your ear.

“Hey I’m here,” Bela says from the other end of your phone

“Great, I’ll be down in a second,” You say, hanging up the phone

You exit the bathroom and grab your apartment keys and exit your apartment; locking your door. You almost rush down the stairs when you see Bela’s cark park out front. You weren’t sure how Bela reacted to you when you stepped out of the apartment door however, when you got into the passenger seat, Bela was looking at you.

“Take a damn picture if you’re going to stare,” You flirt

She takes out her phone and snaps a photo. You didn’t think she’d actually do it. But, you weren’t complaining though.

“You-oh wow,” Bela say, breathlessly, “Since-since when do you dress like that?”

“Whenever I decide to look like a hot lesbian,” You say, sitting back into the passenger seat

The both of you didn’t really say much after then as Bela was focused on driving. When the both of you arrived, You get out first, just to open the door for her.

“A lesbian and a gentleman,” Bela flirts

You follow close behind her as you enter the fraternity house Bela talked about the evening before. You didn’t expect it to be packed. By the time you had fully processed a college party, Bela was no longer in front of you. Instead, in the arms of her boyfriend. 

“You look like you could use a drink,” One of the fraternity boys tries to flirt with you

“No thanks,” You brush him off immediately

You begin walking away, hoping to find a spot in the party to just think. 

What did we tell you kid? Now you’re alone... At a college party. You should have just lied kid...

By the time you decided to step outside it was packed too. You turned your heel and began to walk right back into the house. You had decided to avoid the party entirely now that Bela had left you for her boyfriend, yet she showed up with you, took a photo of you and flirts with you, you found a closet. 

You shut the door and take a seat. Luckily you brought your own kind of music to listen to when you want to feel isolated. You weren’t sure how long you sat with your knees up to your face. But you sure as hell wanted to stand up because you could no longer feel your arse. Feeling slightly confident, you decided to go back downstairs where the main party was happening, hoping you could have some time with Bela. You didn’t see any of your swim teammates, so she was the only one you felt that you could talk to. 

Fuck....

You were only halfway down the stairs when you spotted Bela’s hair in the bright light. Lips locked with her boyfriends’.

Aaaaaand we are going back up the stairs.

You had never went back up a set of stairs so fast in your life. However, you didn’t want Bela to see you looking heartbroken. You were easily seeable from the part of the stairs you were standing on. You rushed back into the same closet. Once you leaned against the wall, you realize it wasn’t a wall. It was a ladder. You took the opportunity to limb onto the roof. You were sure it wasn’t allowed but it would be better to be banned rather than watching your now crush making out with her boyfriend. You open the hatch and inhale the fresh, crisp scent of the evening air. Once you found a suitable spot along the rooftop, you scroll through your phone. 

Ahhh, This is the song to listen to when all you want to do is fall apart.... Or stargaze, or both.

“All the Stars” - Kendrick Lamar/SZA

A Classic. 

Although you had a whole playlist just for moments such as this one, All the Stars gave you a mixed vibe when all you want to do is to fall apart and stargaze. You turn up your music, shutting out the rest of the world. You didn’t care, you had your thoughts, your music and the whole night sky to yourself.

Bela’s POV She didn’t realize how much time went by until she looked out the window.

Oh shit it’s getting late. I have to find y/n...

“Hey babe, I’m going to look for y/n,” She says

“I’m sure the kid’s fine,” He says, drunk, “Stay baby. Please. Your boyfriend needs your attention.”

“Your boys can take care of you for now,” She says, standing up

Before she could depart from him, he forcefully grabs her wrist. In a panicked state, she draws her hand back.

“Not. Here.” Bela growls, turning her heel and leaving her boyfriend by his lonesome

She walks into the kitchen, seeing some party-goers playing beer pong.

“Have you guys seen a girl wearing a red crop top, leather jacket?” She asks

They all shake their head ‘no’. Bela rushes into the gaming area. The same response from them as well. Panicking, she checks nearly every area there was in that house. However, when she reached the top of the stairs, she barely heard anyone there. So, she checks each room to see if you were in any of them. To her dismay, no luck. 

“Where did you go y/n?” she sighs, “I shouldn’t have left you alone...”

Genuinely feeling guilty, Bela picks up her phone and speed dials your number.

Y/n’s POV You groan in annoyance when your music suddenly stopped playing. However, when you looked at your phone, you freaked. Bela’s name and icon showed up. Not knowing what to do, you panic and let it go to voicemail. Hoping she would give up, you just go back into your vibe.

“Isn’t she persistent,” You talk to yourself, seeing her name and icon once more

You, again let it go to voicemail.

Bela’s POV Bela was pacing along the second floor, trying to get you to pick up but each time leading to voicemail. She was beginning to get to the point that she thought you had left. However, when she looks over to an open door, a faint light shining down. She walks into the closet and noticed the ladder leading up to the roof. She decides to check the roof as the last place to see if you were there. As soon as she poked her head through the open hatch she gasps as she sees you lying down.

Y/n’s POV You were too focused on the stars in the sky however was now blurred. As your eyes adjusted to the new darkness, you could hear Bela.

“There you are y/n I was looking for you,” She says, “You will not believe what- hey, are you okay?”

Still having your music on loud blast, you turn your head towards the horizon line; where the land meets the sky. You didn’t want her to see you like this, you had nothing to be jealous of... But here you are; jealous of Bela’s own boyfriend.

“Hey, y/n look at me,” Bela says calmly

You began feeling like melted butter as soon as Bela’s fingers gently caressed your jawline and cheek. You let her turn your head to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” She asks

You don’t say anything but you only take out one of your earbuds and hand it to her. You couldn’t find the words to tell her how you were feeling. A new song had popped on.

“Too Afraid” - MARINA

She puts in the earbud just as the song begins. One of her hands wraps around your neck while the other lingers on your cheek. You gently put your forehead against Bela’s as the both of you listen to the song together. Your hands hold onto Bela’s forearms as it hit the chorus line. 

The both of you were up on the roof listening to your music for god knows how long. The both of you were lying down at that point; Your leather jacket wrapped around her, her resting against your shoulder, stargazing with you, still listening to your music together. 

She’s the first one to actually listen to music with you... 

“Hey, Bela,” You finally say, breaking the silence

She perches herself on her elbow, looking down at you, “Yeah?”

“Won’t your boyfriend be suspicious?” You ask, “I’d hate to see something happen to you if he-”

She places her finger against your mouth.

“Forget about him right now,” She says, “What matters more is that I need to make it up to you for leaving you alone.”

“Bela- you don’t need to do that,” You say sitting up to meet her face

“No, I want to,” She says, “That reminds me, have you eaten at all?”

You both hear your stomach gurgling from the lack of nutrient consumption.

“Guess that answers your question,” You chuckle

“I know a great 24/7 diner, wanna go?” She asks

“I’d like that Bela,” You smile

You finally had the courage to walk back into the fraternity house. Bela’s boyfriend was nowhere in sight. However, Bela doesn’t seem phased at the fact as she drags your arse out of the party and back to her car. 

When the two of you arrive there, you sit in a booth near the window.

“Now would you want to tell me why you were basically gone almost all of the party?” Bela asks

“I don’t know,” You lie, but it was also the truth, “I’m not very much a party person... Especially with a bunch of strangers.”

“Then why didn’t you say so? We could have done something else,” Bela says

“I didn’t want you to have to leave your mans just to make time with me,” You sigh, sipping on your milkshake, “Besides, you looked like you are the life of the party. I.. I also can’t say no to you.”

You didn’t realize how upset you sounded when you told her how you ‘didn’t want to interrupt her time with her boyfriend just to make time for you’ bit.

“What’s your ideal ‘party’?” She asks out of the blue

“Oh? well, just having three to four friends over, we just drink, eat junk food, play super smash brothers, watch a movie watch youtubers or all three. Not in that particular order though,” You ramble on, “That’s pretty much it. Nothing special.”

“When was the last time you’ve had one of those?” She asks

“Too long,” You answer, “Why?” Are you going to do something like that one of these days?”

“Something like that yeah,” She says

After the two of you had diner food she drops you off back at your apartment.

“Thanks Bela,” You say, opening the car door

Before you could step out of the car, you could feel her hand coil around your wrist and you felt her other hand turn your face towards hers and your lips meet each other halfway. She pulls away for you to process the fact, however, you lean forward even further and your lips meet hers once more. 

“Goodnight Bela,” You whisper when you pull your lips away

“Goodnight y/n,” She replies

You finally step out of her car. You don’t fully process what happened until you got into your apartment. 

You just fucking kissed Bela Dimitrescu...

Chapter 3

[yslkook]

gorgeous

#corporate masterlist

summary: it’s the office holiday party, and when you show up wearing this dress, jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself. (jk pov) word count: 3014 warnings: alcohol, cursing, smut 18+- jk jerks it in a bathroom, he’s very into oc and she doesnt know it, jk is pining  a/n: here is a lil holiday-esque drabble. this story takes place about a month after the team returns to seoul from ch 6. pls enjoy this first attempt at smut for jk. ty to @taestybae​ for her endless support <333

Jungkook doesn’t know what to expect from this office holiday party- apparently there had been a huge budget surplus this year and the regulatory department had decided to go all out. The party planners had booked an evening at one of the ballrooms in one of swankiest hotels in Seoul. Meaning that the party itself was semi-formal, or close to it.

Meaning that Jungkook would rather be at home playing video games and eating pizza than dressed in a suit. He’s tired, it’s been a long few months, and he just wants to go home.

But he plays the part, and he plays the part well. Namjoon introduces him to a few people, higher ups, after he grabs a glass of spiced wine from the open bar.

Maybe he can at least get a little drunk. As a treat. 

His thoughts drift to you for a moment. He wonders what you’re doing. Maybe he’ll text you later, if he’s feeling a little brave. Maybe with some liquid courage.

He’s already looking forward to it. But he doesn’t have to, because you walk in through the doors with Seokjin on your arm. 

Jungkook audibly chokes on his wine when he spots you. Namjoon gives him a strange look but Jungkook ignores it, in favor of staring at you. Jungkook’s throat goes dry the closer both you and Seokjin get to him, Namjoon and Sana.

He can’t be next to you, not when you look like that. Not when you look so much more pretty than anything his own dreams could have conjured up. 

“Hi, Jungkook,” You say, your voice low and sweet at the same time. 

He nearly faints.

“Hi,” Jungkook mumbles, “What are you doing here?”

“Huh? Should I leave?” You tease, pointing at the door with your thumb.

“No, I just- I thought this was a reg thing?” Jungkook asks desperately, digging himself into a deeper hole. You only smile even wider at him. 

“Oh, am I not good enough company for you people then?” You scoff, “Maybe we should leave, Sana.”

“No,” Jungkook nearly whines, “That’s not what I meant-”

Jin is having a blast watching Jungkook tripping over his words as the younger man confirms his own already existing suspicions.

Namjoon tells Jungkook that he had invited you and Sana and you reply saying that you had come along with Jin.

What you don’t say is that Jin probably would have found a way to drag you to this party regardless. His jaw had dropped when he had picked you up from your house and you’re flustered under his gaze, something that has only happened a handful of times since you’ve known Jin-

“What? Is it too much? I thought they said semi-formal,” You panic, “Jin, I don’t have anything else! Should I go change? Fuck it, I’m not coming. Jin! Will you say something!”

“You look good, stupid,” Jin says easily and unabashedly lets his eyes roam, “You’re sexy.”

“Oh.”

Your dark green dress hugs your curves but still leaves enough to the imagination. Jungkook’s eyes dart to your shoulders and the dip of your chest, where he sees more of your tattoo that he’s ever seen before. He swallows nervously and when you walk with Sana to the bar, he sees the slit in your dress and an eyeful of your thigh.

Jungkook chugs his drink. The pink flush of his cheeks can be attributed to alcohol after all. 

You’re perfectly elegant and sexy, unaware that Jungkook is having a minor breakdown while trying to stave off popping a boner at this very public event.

He’s not having much luck.

Jungkook is now on his third glass of spiced wine, in an attempt to stop himself from searching for you. No matter where you are in the room, you seem to pop up in his periphery. Whether you’re speaking to Hae-ri, or you’re shoveling appetizers into your mouth with Seokjin, or you’re speaking with Namjoon’s boss… you always seem to be in his line of vision.

He seems to be one of the youngest people in the regulatory department, a fact that Jungkook’s colleagues seem to always want to bring up. Remarks of how they’re old and of ‘kids these days’ as they look pointedly at him, saying that he’s young and spry are the norm.

It’s annoying and he resists the urge to roll his eyes. He just grins and bears it, going through his third glass of wine much quicker than expected.

These people always say they want change and fresh ideas and somehow refuse to embrace them. It makes Jungkook scoff. He’s happy with his small team of Namjoon, you and Sana. He’s happy that you’re all young at heart and that things aren’t so competitive. He knows he’s blessed in that aspect.

Jungkook is thankful when Seokjin pulls him away to introduce him to his own boss-

“You’re Namjoon’s golden boy,” Seokjin shrugs, “Everyone already knows you.”

He wants to ask, do people know you? But he refrains, not wanting Jin to get the wrong idea. Jungkook shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when he sees you standing next to Namjoon with Jin’s boss and one of her colleagues.

Now he really has to keep himself in check. You make him weak and despite his best attempts to avoid looking at you, his eyes land on you anyway. And how can he not turn his gaze to you?

He’s a goner, and he knew it from the minute he saw you walk into the venue.

Jungkook watches your red lips move as you speak with Seokjin’s boss and he vaguely wonders how your lipstick has remained intact this long. Your laugh is like music in his ears, you even throw your head back in genuine mirth at something that Seokjin’s boss says.

You’re not watching him. So he sips his wine and allows himself to enjoy your presence, all wrapped up in front of him in possibly the prettiest dress on the prettiest woman he’s ever met. 

Your whole body shakes as you laugh unabashedly and fully and Jungkook dares to ogle your chest for longer than he should of a colleague. But you’re you, and he’s just a boy. 

You’re his dream girl and he’s just a boy.

He wonders what your skin might taste like- you always smell so good, the faint scent of something warm and comforting always surrounds you. Your skin is glowing, the ink on your shoulders shining with the light from the chandeliers above.

And then your thigh peeks out and the sight of your leg sends an arrow of arousal straight down his spine. Jungkook thinks he catches a glimpse of color on your upper thigh but it’s gone as quickly as it comes.

His throat is dry again. He needs another drink.

While he wants to look at you in peace as if you were a painting made just for him, he wants your attention too. Before he can slide into the conversation and see your pretty eyes light up for him, you turn to him on your own.

“Hi,” You murmur to him once it’s clear that Seokjin has steered the conversation with his boss away from you, “Feel like I didn’t get to say hello to you properly earlier.”

“O-oh,” Jungkook mumbles, “No worries.”

“Got any plans for the holidays?” You ask softly. Your voice rings loud and clear in his ears, the sweet taste of wine on his tongue has nothing on what he imagines your lips feel like against his.

“J-just goin’ to my parents’. My brother’s coming for a few days, with his girlfriend,” Jungkook says, letting himself relax around you. It’s easy for him to do, when you give him a smile and a laugh that makes his heart lurch.

“Oh! You have a brother,” You reply, “Older or younger?”

“Older.”

“Ah, so you’re the baby of the house,” You tease, looking at him over the rim of your glass. Jungkook is momentarily distracted by the glossy taupe of your nails. And then his eyes travel up your fingers, as he catches exactly two small tattoos over your knuckles.

“I’m not the baby,” Jungkook complains and your teasing eyes melt away, instead replaced by a warm ember of something more. Your eyes are dark and hooded as you take him in, and it sets his blood alight.

“I know, Jungkook,” You murmur, your voice low and raspy. The corner of your lips quirk up into a smirk and all Jungkook can do is swallow his nerves down. He feels like he’s vibrating, just from your simple look. He preens in your gaze, wanting any and all of your attention.

Not for the first time, he struggles to keep his eyes above your neckline. Jungkook chugs the rest of his wine hastily and your eyebrows raise in mild curiosity. 

Jungkook is struggling to maintain his composure and if he doesn’t get his shit together, you’ll surely notice the small tent in his pants. Only you, looking so gorgeous in green can pull this kind of reaction from him with just a few words.

Jungkook is a sucker.

The hungry look in your eyes passes and instead you ask him about his brother and his family. He falls into easy conversation with you, telling you about last year’s holiday and how he had baked about fifty cookies too many for his family so he had eaten them all instead. He asks you what you usually do for the holiday, to which you reply that sometimes you and Grandma spend it with Seokjin and his family.

The lines between colleagues and friendship have long been blurred between you and Jungkook. At least, that’s how you feel. Normally, you wouldn’t offer that kind of information up to a colleague. But Jungkook feels like a little more than a colleague to you.

“Uh. Do you want to sit with me and eat?” You ask almost shyly and Jungkook feels his cheeks heating up. He nods immediately and follows you to the buffet line, enjoying the way your ass looks in that dress and eating up any glimpse of your leg he can get.

Happy holidays, indeed. 

“How messy do you think these people get after a few glasses of wine?” You muse, observing the higher ups chatting with each other on the other side of the room.

“Pretty damn messy,” Jungkook replies, “Look at Hae-ri, she’s wasted. And Yunho too-”

“Maybe there will be a day where we can act like that and not worry about whether we’ll be fired or not the next day…”

“It’s all about control,” Jungkook says knowingly, “You just gotta fake it till you make it.”

“Don’t gotta tell me that twice,” You scoff, “I feel like I can never get drunk at these things. Feels like big brother is watching, you know?”

“Can’t relate,” Jungkook says smoothly, “What’s the point of a work party if you won’t take advantage of the open bar?”

You laugh loudly, and Jungkook nearly jumps when your hand floats over his forearm to steady yourself. Jungkook sharply turns his face towards yours, meeting your electric eyes. You cross one leg over the other, the skirt of your dress falling a little bit to the side.

And Jungkook sees even more of your upper thigh tattoo than he had before. Now he knows for certain that your ink wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“Sorry,” You mumble.

He doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for, but he misses the heat of your hand when you place it back in your lap.

When you ask him if he wants to get seconds at the buffet with you, he immediately nods. You say nothing as he reflexively puts his hand at the small of your back. He’s a man, but he’s a gentleman, after all. 

The simple touch and heat of your skin through the fabric of your dress is enough of a memory for him to store for later. He allows himself the luxury of it and when you stand a little closer to him, he can’t help himself from letting his thoughts wander.

Jungkook needs to leave. He needs to either find a bathroom or get his ass home, because the longer he’s in your presence, the harder it is for him to conceal himself from you.

Specifically, his boner. His cock seems to jump whenever you’re in his line of sight and it’s messing with his head.

He’s painfully hard by the point in the night when speeches from the higher ups are being made. They’re thanking the department for their hard work for the year and wishing everyone a prosperous new year. Meanwhile Jungkook isn’t paying attention.

He’s tipsy and he’s thinking about how you’d fit in the crevices of his hands. He’s thinking about how your hips might feel in his hands, how the column of your throat would taste, how you’d look with his head buried in between your inked thighs.

He wants to shove his face into your tits and he nearly groans out loud at the thought. He wonders how his cock would look in your hands, how you’d stroke him, how your mouth would feel…

Jungkook sneaks away from the ballroom in search of a private bathroom. He leaves quietly, not wanting to answer questions. Not when he’s this painfully hard, and the mere thought of you in that dress is seemingly enough for him to cum in his pants.

He swiftly walks through the halls with his jacket subtly covering the front of his pants. He’s mortified that it’s come to this, but if he doesn’t make himself cum in the next ten minutes he might explode.

Jungkook finally finds a bathroom and shoves himself inside, immediately standing in front of the mirror and pulling his belt off.

He’s so desperate. He wonders if you’d like that, if you’d like his desperation that stems from you.

Jungkook pulls his cock out of the confines of his boxers and strokes himself slowly at first. Teasingly. He sighs softly at the relief that his right hand gives him.

Fuck. Would you like that? Would you like that he’s this desperate for you? Would you praise him? 

He squeezes his eyes shut, pretending that it’s your hand on his cock and not his own. He can see you in his mind, your lipstick beyond smudged, eyes watery and your dress rumpled. 

He can see your tattoos on display for him, the ones on your shoulder, your chest and your thigh. Maybe you’d even tell him that they all mean.

The thought sends another rush of blood to his cock. He pumps himself faster, groaning softly and biting his bottom lip.

He imagines you telling him to be loud for you, to let you hear him. In that low, sexy voice.

Jungkook moans your name into the empty bathroom. He’s long been leaking precum from his cock, perhaps since the moment he laid eyes on you. He’s so close…

Everything suddenly feels magnified- his touch on his cock, the thought of your tits spilling over the bodice of your dress. The feel of your lips on his.

His mind runs wild when it comes to you.

Jungkook strokes himself even faster, only to stop abruptly. Start, stop. Start, stop. He whines to himself and peels his eyes open to watch himself in the mirror. His eyes are hooded, cheeks reddened and lips pouty and swollen from biting down.

He needs more than his own hand. He needs friction.

Without a second thought, he plasters his hands over the counter and rocks his hips into the edge of the surface. With a loud, broken moan he grinds into the counter. Wondering how your pussy might feel instead of the cold surface. Or your hands. Or your tits.

He slows down to a slow grind, teasing himself with the thought of you. What would you look like when he made you cum? What would you look like when you came on your own fingers?

He speeds up a little more, groaning and whimpering as the need to cum quickly approaches. The knot in his belly has become even tighter, ready to burst. Jungkook feels like his skin is on fire, his hands doing little to alleviate it.

He pulls off of the counter and strokes himself harshly with rough tugs, groaning your name under his breath. Jungkook thinks about you, waking up next to you after a nap together, bringing you ice cream after a long day, kissing you just because he can in his fantasies.

Thick ropes of white coat his hands and spray across the counter recklessly as he moans brokenly for nobody to hear. 

Jungkook’s knees feel weak as he tries to regain his breath. He braces himself on the counter before taking a paper towel to clean himself up. After, he wets a paper towel with soap and cleans up the counter and the mirror.

His cheeks are blazing once the gravity of what he just did hits him. How is he supposed to face you now?

He doesn’t regret it. You’re his dream girl.

It’s no surprise that soon after Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, the closing remarks are just about to finish. That’s great timing because once they do, he’s booking it out of the hotel as fast as he can. 

And that’s exactly what he does. He leaves, only saying goodbye to Namjoon and makes a beeline for the exit. His Uber is already waiting for him.

He doesn’t notice you looking for him to say goodbye.

It’s later, when he’s in the safety of his bedroom and in his pajamas, that his phone lights up-

you: hey, u must have left before I found you. Just wanted to say bye and happy holidays Jk 💓

Jungkook can’t help his heart doing cartwheels or the smile on his face at your text.

He also can’t help his cock from jumping, either. 

[empire-of-wildfire]

HOLIDAY SURPRISE

A @starseternalnighttriumphant X @empire-of-wildfire CHRISTMAS MINI-FIC COLLABORATION

a/n: here’s the first part guys!! We hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry for those of you that saw this yesterday, I’m not sure why tumblr decided to post it almost 24 hours early. Send me or Hannah @starseternalnighttriumphant an ask if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Cassian Laskaris’s personal phone buzzed in his jacket pocket, causing him to frown. Almost no one bothered him on his phone while he was at work, so he fished it out of the deep pocket and looked at the name that flashed on the screen. A sigh followed by a small smirk, he answered the call and put the phone up to his ear.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Funny,” Rhys answered, voice full of amusement. “I was just checking for cold feet.”

“Are you sure you meant to call me and not Feyre?” Cassian drawled.

“Hers are warm and currently playing footsie with mine.” There was a shuffle and Feyre’s tinkling laugh in the background. “I just want to make sure you’re actually coming.”

Rhys’s worry was genuine, but it still grated Cassian’s nerves. He had promised his found brother he would be there for his wedding, and Cassian was many things, but he never broke his promises to the people he loved.

“Yes, bastard brother of mine,” Cassian sighed, spinning in his office chair. “I leave in the morning. I’ll see your ugly face tomorrow.”

His door opened, a beautiful dark haired, deeply tanned skin woman walking in, her hips swinging. Emerie smirked at him, holding a folder, and he took his time dragging his eyes over her. She looked extremely good in that tight black dress and he wanted to—

“Are you still there?”

“Sorry,” Cassian muttered, leashing his dirty thoughts. Now wasn’t the time. “Yes, Rhys, I’ll be there. I have everything set up, I’ll see you around one or two p.m.”

He hung up before Rhys could say anything else, turning his womanizing smile towards Emerie. She had started at the firm less than a year ago, and Cassian knew he shouldn’t have spent most of the time fooling around with her. But she was a good distraction, and she didn’t want anything from him besides friendship with benefits. She was also the only woman that had lasted this long in the past four years since he’d left Velaris. Most women only made it a few weeks, maybe a month or two.

“Dinner tonight before I leave?” he asked as she handed him the folder containing his next high profile law case.

“My pleasure,” she purred, winking as she left.

-

Despite Rhys’s protests, Cassian had decided to rent a car and stay at one of the two hotels in Velaris. He hadn’t been home once in four years; he felt awkward even being back in his old stomping grounds without the subtle tension his presence in Rhys and Feyre’s home would bring. He didn’t fit in anymore, and though his brother would never admit it, Cassian knew it was better to keep a distance. And he knew Rhys and Feyre would be busy with wedding planning, and his intrusion in their house would probably create more stress since he was staying through Christmas until the day after New Years, their wedding on the very first day of the year. Rhys and Feyre were disgustingly romantic like that.

After checking into the hotel and letting Rhys know he was on his way, Cassian decided last minute to take the scenic route to his brother’s home. He wasn’t sure what had pushed him to do it; curiosity, maybe. He hadn’t been home in four years.

Velaris hadn’t changed much in the years since he’d been gone. Honestly it was like looking into a time capsule— everything was almost identical to how it had been when he’d blown out of town to chase his dreams. Driving through the small town, he was immediately transported back in time to his high school and college days.

Ahead on his right was the park where he’d met Feyre, Nesta, and Elain not long after the Archeron family had moved to Velaris. He still remembered that night perfectly: he’d been having a normal conversation with Azriel when Feyre walked over, her sisters in tow, and his entire world had stopped the moment his eyes fell on Nesta. She was without a doubt the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Dressed simply in a gray t-shirt dress and sandals, her long golden brown hair was braided around her head. Cassian remembered marveling, knowing that something so intricate had to have taken quite a bit of time. Nesta hadn’t appreciated the staring, and made sure to tell him as much as soon as she walked up to him.

He abruptly shook himself out of the memory, trying to focus on driving so he didn’t get lost in his past and the girl who still haunted his dreams even four years later. But then just a bit further down the road, there was the restaurant where he’d taken her on their first date, almost a year after he’d met her. It had taken him so long to get her to go out with him, he honestly thought she’d just agreed to get him to leave her alone. But that night he’d walked her to the door and he’d said goodnight, not wanting to push her too far. He had moved to leave when she’d grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him. Nesta was the kind of girl who knew what she wanted, even back then, and that first kiss broke and remade him all at once.

The entire drive to Rhys’s house was a lot of the same. He passed their spot, a hidden trail leading back to a small lake that he’d taken Nesta to after six months of dating, which was where they had their first time. He still sometimes got embarrassed at how awkward he’d been then. He passed the Archeron’s old house, now occupied by a different family, which was where he told her he loved her for the first time. Everywhere he turned, memories of him and Nesta haunted him like a ghost. It left him unsettled, that despite years of silence and trying to forget and move on, Nesta was still so much a part of who he was.

He was glad when he finally pulled Rhys’s driveway, able to put the memories of the past to bed and focus on the present. His excitement at being home increased exponentially as he got out of the car; he’d missed his brothers, and despite how infrequently they communicated he still loved his family fiercely.

He knocked on the door twice and within seconds it was opening. He hadn’t expected it to be the tall and lithe woman his brother had been in love with nearly a decade, but his grin was genuine as Feyre laughed in delight and all but jumped into his arms, hugging him tight. He wrapped a strong arm around her, hefting her up as he pushed further into their house. He set her down and he ruffled her hair when she looked back at him.

She batted his hand away. “I was worried I wouldn’t recognize you.”

He raised a brow. “I’m hurt. It’s only been a few years.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and turned towards the staircase. “Rhys, my favorite brother is here!”

Cassian laughed as Rhys came down the stairs, shaking his head. “Gone four years and you’re already trying to steal my fiancée, brother.”

The two hugged firmly, and Cassian tried to ignore the tightness in his throat. He remembered the last time he’d seen Rhys in person. It had been a year after he left, and his brother had all but begged him to come home. But Cassian had been so entrenched in his work, climbing up the ladder at the law office he’d joined, and he’d refused. It had led to a huge argument, and though it had long since been resolved, Cassian still thought about it almost everyday.

“It’s good to see you,” Rhys told him, clapping him on the shoulder. “I hope you’re ready for some wedding planning because we have about five more seconds before Feyre darling sends you out on a task.”

Feyre’s slim hand smacked Rhys’s arm. “I was going to ease him into it.”

Cassian huffed a laugh, meeting his future sister-in-law’s eyes. “Tell me what you need.”

Feyre rattled off that she needed him to pick up all the stationary waiting at the printing shop, place cards and thank you notes and custom signs to scatter around the wedding venue. She gave him the receipt and told him where it was, even though it was unnecessary. It seemed that nothing had changed in this small town, and that included the local printing shop. He was willing to bet it was still owned by the same old woman that had printed their graduation announcements so many years ago.

The shop was near the town center, and he parked on the side of the road next to the library. He got out and looked at the towering structure, knowing that it used to be the town hall hundreds of years ago when Velaris used to only have a few hundred people. Now it was the library, and his mind drifted back to spending summers there, doing book reports on books he never actually read. He remembered finding Nesta there the next week after he’d met her and her sisters, nestled in a quiet corner with a book in her hands.

He’d been surprised; he’d only known her for a week but she had struck him as the reading type. He remembered he had come up to her to talk to her and she’d hid the book behind her back, a light blush staining her cheeks, taking his breath away which he had tried to hide with a laugh. He’d managed to grab the book from her hands and saw that it was one of the smutty romances that were in the adult section that he and his brothers had snickered at as young teens.

A slight smile turned his lips up as he remembered how embarrassed and angry she’d been, and how she’d gotten him back by “accidentally” spilling her drink all over his pants during lunch. He’d been mocked for weeks.

He blinked, pulling himself out of the memory, shaking his head slightly. Gods, he was going to go insane if he stayed in this town longer than he had to. It was bad enough he was here for over a week. He’d have to stay holed up in his hotel room as much as possible if he wanted to escape wave after wave of memories and nostalgia that seemed to crash into him without any warning.

Cassian headed down the street and grabbed all the wedding stationary from the printing shop. Sure enough, it was that same old lady. And she’d been delighted that he was back in town, patting his cheeks and telling him to come by before he left. He’d given her his charming grin, but he’d left feeling… off.

The drive back to Rhys and Feyre’s house was a blur, trying not to let his mind wander as he pulled into the driveway. Hefting the large paper bags that held everything Feyre had ordered, he walked up the steps and reached for the doorknob with his free hand.

The door opened before his fingers even brushed the cool metal, a figure he’d almost mistaken as Feyre standing in the doorway. She was dressed in dark blue scrubs, her golden brown hair braided in that all too familiar crown around her head. Her smooth, flawless face froze in an expression of pure shock, her full lips falling open as she stared at him.

He knew his own mouth was hanging open, his heart in his throat as he met the steel blue gaze of the woman he had known better than he’d known himself. A woman he’d loved fiercely for almost seven years, a face that haunted his dreams even when he tried so hard to forget her.

He hadn’t seen her, handn’t heard from her, hadn’t even heard her voice in four years but Nesta Archeron’s silky tone still managed to raise goosebumps along his skin as she blurted out, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

-

@werewolffprince

@schmlip-scribble

@justgiu12

@westofmoon

@legallyhermione

@love-is-a-contradiction

@shyvioletcat

@oversizedbats

@superspiritfestival

@ladywitchling

@highqueenofelfhame

@disgreisful

@empress-ofbloodshed

@lovemollywho

@rocky99

[icyllic]

Path of Destruction | JEON JUNGKOOK

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader

GENRE: Drama, Angst (maybe???), Thriller

WARNINGS: Stalking, obsession, swearing, a little dirty talk & thoughts

WORD COUNT: 2635

*note: ↑ i came across this video and saw this comment by boogieedits (credits to parkchimn & boogieedits for the inspiration! 😍) and felt inspired by this wonderful plot! i’m inspired by the amazing video edit too! <3 i decided to give it a try and welp- truthfully i’m having writer’s block with my Full of Stars series that i might wanna take a break from it for a while until i figured what the next episode’s plot would be. for now, let’s enjoy this oneshot! 🥰 (extra note: several changes were made in this story and yes, the nickname might be a little cringy but i couldn’t think of a better pet name, so....bear with it, i guess 😅😂 also, Y/N’s angered replies are intended to have typos. i purposely did the typos in her texts bcs she was angry af :3)

The night was feeling empty. The streets were quiet and you had no idea where you were heading. You couldn’t believe that you actually managed to get out from your best friend, Suzie’s party that was filled with a lot of her drunken friends and thank God you successfully escaped, even though right now you were feeling a little tipsy due to the amount of alcohol you consumed earlier.

“Fucking Suzie,” you mumbled as you walked home. “telling me it was just a small party and she lied! Who would lie to their own friends?!” You have the habit of talking to yourself if you feel alone and that was what you were feeling right now, so alone in the streets and you were clueless. You felt the need to cry but what’s the whole point? No one was here to save you even if you did.

You were sure you weren’t dreaming or hallucinating at all but you heard footsteps were following you. As you turned around, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, seeing as there was no one. When you turned around to walk again, the footsteps were heard. “HEY!” you yelled as you aggressively turned around. “don’t you dare follow me or I wouldn’t hesitate to call the cops!” You rolled your eyes in annoyance, mumbling to yourself again to make the uneasy feeling go away.

As you finally arrived home, you were struggling to grab the keys to unlock the door. At this very moment, the keys were tricking you; purposely tangling themselves with your pocket. “Are you kidding me?! I wanna get inside, you stupid keys!” You widened your eyes when you saw your older sister opening the door for you. How was she still awake at 2 a.m.?

“You look like a horrible mess.” Michelle commented, and you scoffed while pushing her away from the door as you went inside. 

“Why are you still even awake anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” You were shaking your head while shutting your eyes to avoid that tipsy feeling.

“How can I sleep when I know my little sister wasn’t home yet? I was worried sick, you moronic bitch.” She shook her head, feeling disappointed with how you acted right now. 

You were feeling sleepy and tired, so you decided to ignore her and went upstairs. Before you went to your room, you heard your sister yelling, “Yeah, go ahead and ignore me just like you always do to avoid conversations with me! I’ve had enough of babysitting you, Y/N! You’re so horrible!” You slammed the door before hearing any more of her complains. 

Despite feeling so tired, you couldn’t sleep at all. You took the time to stare up at the ceiling instead, filling your head with numerous thoughts. But the thoughts stopped as you heard a Ding! on your phone. You read the texts and to your surprise, it was from an unknown number. 

unknown [now]: sweet dreams, twinkle toes

unknown [now]: it took me nearly four years to pluck up the courage to text you

unknown [now]: and i can’t lie, i’m having butterflies 

unknown [now]: you don’t know how many times i’ve dreamed of touching you

unknown [now]: by the way, go take a shower before you sleep 🌹

“What the hell?” You got up quick and scanned the whole area in your room, worrying that person who texted you might be in there. Hiding under your bed, maybe? You didn’t know whether to text this person back or not, or to block him but if you block him now, how would you know where he got your number from? ... or how would you know whether this person was a male or a female? So you decided to just leave it be for a while and reply this unknown person’s texts tomorrow. After this dreamland taking over your world, you were hoping that these texts were just all hallucinations due to tiredness. 

••••••

....except that they were not hallucinations at all. You started to feel panic when you saw the messages were still there in your message box. Now it was your turn to build the courage to reply this person back. 

you [now]: Who are you and how did you get my number?

Anxiety started to form inside you. You were supposed to run some errands today but with the situation you were facing right now, you were having doubts whether it was safe to go out there or not.

Your daydream of thoughts stopped when Michelle walked in to your room. “Y/N?” You raised your head up to look at her. “you feeling better now?”

You nodded, feeling hesitated as you knew that answer wasn’t true at all. You weren’t feeling any better, even after last night for being a little drunk but with this stalker texting you??? A whole new level of creepy started to scare you. You kept wondering how on Earth this person got your number. 

“I baked you some cookies, just in case you were hungry and um,” she paused for a while. “I’m sorry for yelling at you last night. I didn’t mean to.”

These words shocked you. Her apology made you give her a look of astonishment. You and Michelle have been through it all; dramas over boys, arguing over little things and never once in your life you ever heard her saying sorry to you. This was so new, she finally apologized to you for the first time in her 25 years of living. 

“I’m sorry for being an irresponsible bitch, Michelle. I didn’t mean it too.” She shook her head while smiling, walking towards you and gave you a hug to comfort you. Ding! And this person appeared again, stopping you from hugging your sister. 

“Whoa, who’s texting you at an exact 8 a.m.?” Michelle teased while wiggling her eyebrows. You chuckled at her silly attitude, although this wasn’t supposed to be a happy situation at all. You were already feeling terrified as curiosity started filling itself in you, wondering what that person’s text might be.

“Probably just Suzie wanting to apologize too for being a lying turd.” You shrugged it off, chuckling alongside your sister. Michelle then walked out and you quickly locked the door, opening the stalker’s message. 

unknown [3m ago]: you’ll know soon enough, twinkle toes 🥰

Twinkle toes??? Who the fuck does this person think he or she is? Calling me twinkle-fucking-toes? Your thoughts started to annoy you right now. You felt the need to slam something out of frustration, but you weren’t feeling like it anymore. You were still feeling scared because of this whole situation. 

••••••

“Class dismissed!” Mr. Peterson announced when the bell rang. The whole Math class felt like a living nightmare. You were feeling sleepy the whole time but your attention was drifted off somewhere else. 

When you walked outside the classroom to pack your stuff in your locker, you were stopped by Adrian. Adrian, the guy you knew had a crush on you since sophomore year. He was indeed cute; shaggy hair that really matched with his bright, green eyes and had a very nice personality that could make every girl fall in love with him. Unfortunately for Adrian, you weren’t one of those girls. 

You’ve been taking the time to appreciate and love yourself for several years now. Your last relationship ended because that asshole cheated on and lied to you a lot of times, leading you to have trust issues and hence the reason why you didn’t wanna give Adrian a chance too. But Adrian, being a nice guy he was, stated that he’d wait for you no matter how long it might take. 

“I brought your favorite snacks, Y/N. I hope we can eat lunch together today.” Adrian showed you your favorite snacks that were hidden in his brown bag. You softly smiled at how thoughtful Adrian really was. 

“Thanks, Adrian. But um, I don’t think I wanna eat lunch today. I might just head home this afternoon. I’m not up for afternoon classes.” You felt bad for lying to him. Truthfully, you just wanted to investigate more about this stalker of yours.

His face was sad, but he seemed to understand. “Oh, okay.. are you okay, Y/N? You don’t look okay.” His voice was recognized with genuine concern.

“I’m having headache, that’s all. I need rest.” You scratched the back of your neck, feeling this conversation becoming awkward already. You were uncomfortable, your negative thoughts made you feel like this was an uncomfortable conversation to participate in. 

Adrian nodded as he understood why, so he patted your back gently. You didn’t see it wrong, though. He wanted to kiss your forehead, but hesitant to do so since he knew that might be wrong. It was because he knew you didn’t feel the same for him. 

••••••

{8.47 p.m. with Adrian walking in the streets alone}

Adrian was listening to music on his phone as he was on his way home from his friend’s house. But eventually stopped when he felt a sudden presence behind him. He turned around and it wasn’t there anymore. He shrugged it off, thinking it might have only been his imagination. 

When he was singing along with the song he was listening to, the footsteps were closer and closer and suddenly, two strong hands grabbed Adrian’s hair and pulling him to the ground, kicking him hard and punching him numerous times. 

This unknown person who punched Adrian was wearing a black mask, a black hoodie and ripped jeans that matched with a pair of motorcycle boots. Despite wearing a mask, his eyes sent deep, horrendous message. “If you ever touch Y/N again, I’ll make sure to have all of your bones broken so you can’t do anything in life anymore,” he aggressively grabbed Adrian’s collar this time. “Y/N is mine and mine alone. Don’t you fucking dare come near her.” He released it roughly, spitting on the spot of the ground next to Adrian and leaving him alone as he walked away. It was an unfortunate night for Adrian, no one was there to rescue him and call for help.

••••••

{10.11 p.m. in your room}

Ding! You groaned, knowing whose message this was from. You rolled your eyes as you read the person’s texts. 

unknown [now]: i’m feeling so happy right now

unknown [now]: you have no idea how happy i really am 🥰

You shook your head and scoffed whilst reading them. Who even decided to care whether this unknown person was happy or not? Definitely not you.

you [now]: Lmao do I even care if you’re happy or not though? All I know is that you’re crazy

Ding!

unknown [now]: i am crazy indeed

unknown [now]: crazy about you

You groaned in annoyance at this unknown person’s response, not wanting to reply anymore. But then as you were about to place your phone on your side table, there was another notification from that person.

unknown [now]: i’m happy because soon enough, i’ll have you in my arms. no one’s gonna rescue you from me 

“What the absolute fuck?” you got up and this time feeling so angry to the point you were having typos as you typed your words in all capital letters.

you [now]: GO FUCK YOURSELF WHOSVER YOU ARE, QUIT BUGFING

ME!! 

you [now]: I’M GONNA BLOCK YOU NOW, YOU CNT DO THIS TO ME

Heaving a sigh, you grabbed a pillow and stuffed it on your face, screaming as loud as you intended. 

Ding!

unknown [now]: you can try blocking me

unknown [now]: but i have a lot more phones that i’ve stolen and your number is saved in every phone i keep 

unknown [now]: like i said, twinkle toes. no one’s gonna rescue you and take you away from me 😉

This time as your courage was already built, you dialed this person’s number but they quickly rejected your call. You tried again and you got the same result; your call was rejected.

you [now]: What’s the matter, huh? No balls to answer my call???

unknown [now]: i’m not going to make you hear my voice yet, princess. where’s the fun in that? 

unknown [now]: i’m saving it for our date soon

you [now]: Screw you, you fucking creep

unknown [now]: damn, say that again 

you [now]: FUCKING SCREW YOU!

unknown [now]: i’d love to be screwed by the one and only Y/N 😍

You were scared again. Not only this person secretly got your number, but he knew your name too! This was another whole new level of creepy! 

You shut your phone off, not wanting to take this conversation further with that creeper. You closed your eyes tightly to move yourself in your dreamland, and thankfully, it was successful.

••••••

{Meanwhile at someone’s place}

He watched you through the one of the screens in his room. You had no idea about this at all, but this stalker had already placed a few cameras in your house. One specific camera he always watched was outside the window of your room so he could have a clearer and nicer view of your sleeping face.

“My God, she’s so beautiful,” he said as he attentively watched you sleeping. He was playing with his fingers as his eagerness started to bloom. He was starting to feel desperate now, wanting to touch you, wanting to hold you in his arms, wanting to kiss you until you’re unable to breathe.

“don’t worry, my Y/N. You’ll be in the arms of Jeon Jungkook’s soon.” Jungkook started to smirk with the dirty thoughts of you forming in his head. He really, really, really couldn’t wait to smother you with his kisses. ....once he catches you.

••••••

The next day at school felt so weird as you found Adrian absent. Adrian wasn’t the type of a person who’d miss a day at school, but today he decided to do that. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you looked around for him. Weird. Where is he? you thought.

Ding! “Gosh, what the fuck does he want now?!” You opened to see who the notification was from, but thankfully it was from Suzie.

suzie patootie [now]: bubs, wanna hangout tonight? mum’s having a date with her 5th boyf. house is free for us girls

you [now]: Girls night, eh? I’m on

This girls’ night was all you needed to avoid feeling scared as you were right now. Sure, you were feeling brave already to confront that person through messages but you were still scared too. What if that person was watching your every move right now and you weren’t aware of it?

••••••

You decided to head to grocery store to buy some foodies and drinks for your girls’ night. You didn’t bother to head home first to take a shower since you knew that this girls’ night would be a sleepless night for you, anyway. 

As you walked out from the grocery store to head your way to Suzie’s home, the footsteps were heard again. You stopped your tracks. Oh no. What if this is that person? You were standing still and the footsteps stopped too. You didn’t care and you walked forward quickly and the footsteps got faster following you from behind. 

You started running and the follower chased after you so quick until he finally caught you, locking you in his strong arms. 

“Don’t run away from me, Y/N,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your earlobe and you started to cry. “didn’t I say I’d have you in my arms soon?” 

Before you could scream, he covered your mouth quickly and dragged you backwards with him to an unknown place while holding you tightly. 

“No one’s gonna save you. You’re all mine now, twinkle toes.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Nightmare in Lawrence

Winchester Sister! Reader

Words: 3874

Summary: Having not heard from their sister in a few weeks, Sam and Dean set out to find her. They discover that she is being terrorized by a dream demon in their hometown on Halloween. 

Notes: Welcome to the final imagine in the Winchester October Takeover! I’ve loved writing all of these Sam and Dean imagines and I hope you guys have enjoyed reading them! For this, I did name it after the movie, but I’m doing my own version of dream demon. Also, this one takes place somewhere in season one. Happy Halloween!! Much love- Erin

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

Dean was worried. Sam was too, but he was still upset, so he pretended not to care. Dean was really worried. This wasn’t just skipping town and finding a case to work on her own, Y/N was gone. She wasn’t calling or texting or writing any damn letters. Just like dad. 

“She probably just doesn’t want to talk to us.” Sam noted bitterly. Dean gave his younger brother a look. 

“Arguement or not, she would call.” The youngest Winchester rolled his eyes. “I know you’ve been gone, Sam, but that hasn’t changed.” 

“Are you going to get on my case too?” Sam challenged. Dean clenched his jaw. 

“I’m just saying that we always let each other know where we are. That’s how it’s always been.” He paced back and forth around the hotel room, checking his phone again. Still nothing. 

“I thought she could handle herself.” Sam muttered to himself. Dean whirled around, grabbing his brother by the collar. 

“Alright, knock it off Sam.” He barked. “She’s your sister damnit. Act like it.” 

“She sure didn’t last time we saw her!” Sam snapped back. Before Dean could respond, his phone finally rang. Giving Sam a deadly glare, he answered. 

“Y/N? Where the hell have you been? What are you-”

“Dean… something is wrong… I’m home, but I’m not.” Your voice cut in and out, making it hard to understand your words. “You… Sam… Dean, I’m scared… this isn’t right… please… I need…” In the background, Dean could just make out the sound of a melody.

“Mr. Sandman… bring me a dream…”The call cut out. 

“Y/N!” The panicked sound in his brother’s voice broke through Sam’s bitterness. 

“What is it?”

“She’s in trouble, Sammy. We’ve gotta find her.” 

“Trouble how?” Sam knew his older sister was a skilled hunter. Maybe even better than Dean. If she was in danger, it was something big. 

“I don’t know, but I’ve got a really bad feeling.” Dean slipped his arms into his leather jacket and grabbed the keys to the impala. 

“Well what did she say, Dean?” Sam was packing up as fast as he could move, following his brother’s frantic footsteps. 

“I’m home, but I’m not.” Dean repeated, confusing forming a line between his brows. The creepy tone of the song echoed in his head. 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“I don’t know.” Dean glanced down at the silver band on his finger. A pang of guilt and worry shot through his heart. He tried to shake all of the awful images forming in his head. “But at least we know where to find her.” 

-

Your fist was clenched around your phone and your tank top was drenched with sweat. 

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.” You repeated it over and over again, but the flames still burned in your head. It felt real. You threw the blankets off and held back a scream. A large burn covered your right thigh, your flesh seared and oozing. The pain spread up through your leg, making you grimace as you moved. 

The nightmare, or whatever the hell it was, was still fresh in your mind. You were at the house. You really only remembered it from pictures now, but you knew it was the one. Your brothers were with you, but you weren’t kids. Sam was coming home from college and Dean had a day off from the garage with your dad. And your mom… she was there. Everything seemed fine. You were happy. 

And then the fire started. It spread out from your mother’s chest like her bones were kindling. Your dad disappeared and your brothers changed. Their eyes were black and they were reaching out with bloody hands. It wasn’t them. You knew it wasn’t them. You remembered pulling out your cell phone and calling Dean. 

After that, you woke yourself up somehow, but not before the fire reached you. But… it was a dream. It wasn’t real. You stared down at your mystery wound. Then how the hell…

You finally took notice of the phone in your hand. It still had the last call pulled up. You hit dial and braced yourself for the panicked voice on the other line. 

“Y/N? Are you okay? What the hell happened!” Your older brother yelled. You had to hold the phone away from your ear. 

“I don’t…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Did I call you last night, Dean?” 

“Yeah you freaking called me! You said something about being home and you were scared and that something was wrong. So what the hell happened?”

“Dean, you need to calm down. I’m fine. I must have called you in my sleep.”

“Called me in your-” Dean scoffed, “Y/N what is going on?” 

“Whatever it is, I’ve got it handled.” The last thing you needed was your paranoid big brother breathing down your neck on this case. You pulled your first aid kit out of your bag. You needed a clean towel. Hobbling to the door, you held the phone between your shoulder and your ear. “I don’t need your help on this one.” 

You opened the door and let the phone fall to the floor. 

“Too late.” Dean huffed, pushing past you into the motel room. To your surprise, your younger brother stood behind him, giving you a hard stare. You inhaled sharply. 

“Hey Sammy.”

“It’s Sam.” He snapped. Dean shot him a look. You moved so he could come in and closed the door. 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” You asked, ignoring the sting of Sam’s coolness. 

“I could ask you the same thing. What’re you doing back in Lawrence? On Halloween?”

“I’ve got a case, okay? My case. And I don’t need you sniffing around to screw it up.” 

“Oh my God, Y/N what happened to your leg?” Sam exclaimed, crouching down to get a better look at your injury. You shoved him away. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean dug through your kit. 

“Sit down.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes and plopped down on your bed, letting him examine the wound. 

“I can handle this, Dean. You didn’t have to drag Sam out here.” 

“You called me, remember? Now stop squirming.” 

“I didn’t mean to call.” You said, annoyed with your subconscious. It was just a nightmare. You didn’t need your over-protective brothers to save you from a nightmare. Even if it did somehow spill into real life. You winced as Dean lightly touched the burn. “Careful!”

“Don’t be a baby.” He fired back, but you could see the worry in his expression. 

“How did you get that?” Sam asked. He wasn’t meeting your gaze. You were sure he was asking out of mere curiosity, rather than genuine concern. You tried to think of a lie, but with both brothers’ eyes burning into you, you couldn’t figure out anything convincing. 

“I don’t know.” You gritted your teeth to hold back a pained groan. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I know what I’m doing. You think I haven’t had to treat a burn before?” Dean snapped. It was half true. Sam was still staring at you. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I mean I don’t know, Sam. I woke up and my leg was barbequed.” Your brother’s exchanged a glance. Sam shifted his weight, rocking back on his heels. 

“What were you dreaming about?”

“What?”

“In your dream, was there a fire or anything that could have caused a burn like that?” He pulled your father’s journal out of his jacket pocket and started searching. You bit the inside of your cheek. If you told them, they would think you couldn’t handle this alone. And after Andrew… you had to do this alone. To prove to yourself that you could still save someone. 

“All I remember from the dream is a couple of dancing munchkins and a pair of red boots.” You spat. Sam’s lips formed a thin line, his fists balled up at his sides. 

“Okay, you two, quit it.” Dean ordered. He bandaged up the burn the best he could and helped you stand before nearly tackling you in an embrace. “I thought whatever got Dad…” He trailed off, pushing away to give you a stern glare. “Never do that again.” 

“Dean, I’m not thirteen anymore. I can handle myself.” You scoffed, feeling uncomfortable under his hard stare. 

“If you’re going to go it alone, you call me once a week. That’s the rule.” His protective arms wrapped around you again, but you didn’t fight them. 

You and Dean had always been close. With dad out on cases all the time, Dean practically raised you and Sam. He showed you how to fix up cars and he taught you how to drive them. When you had your heart broken in middle school by some asshole with a bowl cut, Dean was there to pick up the pieces- and give the kid a fat lip. He bought you your first beer and the two of you watched scary movies while Sam studied for some test. 

“I’m sorry.” You conceded. You looked over to the youngest Winchester and he quickly looked away. 

Your relationship with Sam had strained since he left for school. When you were kids, the two of you were practically inseparable. As the middle child, you were constantly resolving fights between him and Dean. Sam always went to you for help on his homework, even though he was the brainiac. You were sure he knew what he was doing, but he wanted to make you feel important. Little Sammy with his bright smile and hopeful eyes. He made you feel like you could do anything. When he left… you just felt stuck. 

Maybe that’s the real reason you lashed out at him in Omaha.

“Well, you’ve checked in on me. I’m alive.” You started to usher both of them towards the door. “I promise I’ll call next time. Bye bye, boys.” You almost had them out of the room, but Sam jerked away. 

“Wait a second, we’re not just going to leave.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Something is seriously going on here.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sam.” 

“Right, and that’s why you called us begging for help.”

“Well I don’t want or need your help, okay?”

“Why? Do you think I’ll screw this one up too?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “What was it you said? I should have stayed in school instead of pretending to be one of you.”

“I said a lot of things that day, Sammy.” And you regretted every damn one of them. 

“It’s Sam!” 

You hadn’t realized you were stepping towards each other until he was towering over you, seething with anger and hurt. 

“Alright, that’s it!” Dean shouted, shoving in between the two of you. He pushed his little brother back and kept his eyes on you. “Sam, go out to the car.”

“Dean-”

“Now!” 

Sam huffed and slammed the hotel room door behind him. Dean’s furious eyes remained on you. 

“He started it.” You snapped. Dean ignored it.

“Cut the crap, Y/N. We both know you wouldn’t step foot in Lawrence if it wasn’t something big. So what is it?” He was right. Lawrence was just full of bad memories that you never wanted to revisit. But when you heard about what was going on, you couldn’t leave it be. Dean put his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place until you told him the truth. 

“I got a call from a psychic named Missouri Moseley. Said she knows dad.” You started, recalling the events as you told him. “She said there were some strange deaths going on around here. People dying in their sleep, but not in a peaceful way. They would go to bed perfectly healthy and someone would find them the next morning, bloody and butchered. Each one with a look of absolute terror frozen on their face.” 

“So what’re you thinking it is? Some kind of string of hexes? Pissed off ghost?”

“No, it’s bigger than that.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “I did some research and I think what’s terrorizing our home town is a dream demon.” Dean made a face. 

“What, like Freddy Krueger?” 

“Kind of.” You rummaged through your piles of research on your desk until you found the book you wanted. “Like any other demon, the bastard has to possess someone. Once they do, they have the power to enter the minds of people they come in contact with.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that they can kill someone inside a dream.” 

“So Freddy Krueger.” 

“Yes, Dean, like Freddy Krueger.” You rolled your eyes at your brother’s endless amount of references. And he called you the dork. Dean’s expression turned serious. 

“Wait, so you decided to go after this thing alone?” He asked angrily. 

“I had it covered.” 

“Obviously not, because that thing got in your head!” He pointed to your leg and you tried not to look at his face. “Whatever happened in your dream, somewhere in that stubborn ass head of yours decided to call me and I’m glad it did.” 

You knew, deep in your persistent heart, that he was right. You shouldn’t have tried to take this on by yourself. After Andrew you weren’t thinking straight. Andrew…

Dean sighed. 

“I know that things have sucked for you lately and I haven’t been there. But you have to let me be there, kid. I can’t help you if you run off on a case by yourself.” 

“I don’t need-” Looking at him now, you couldn’t lie anymore. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around your big brother. “Thank you.” Dean hugged you back, keeping you in a strong embrace until it was time to go. 

Sam was cooling down in the car. He couldn’t get Andrew’s face out of his head. Didn’t Y/N realize that it haunted him too? That the sounds of the Acheri ripping the man apart added to his nightmares? 

Andrew was a sheriff that the three had run into on a vengeful spirit case. Instead of shutting the hunters out, he helped the Winchesters defeat the creature that was destroying his town. Y/N, despite all her walls and barricades, fell for him. Both brothers warned her that it was a bad idea, but they started seeing each other. After burning the bones, they thought the case was over. Sam was so sure of it.

He was with Andrew when it happened. His siblings were out getting more beer and Andrew was telling him that he really liked Y/N. He said he was willing to make this crazy hunter life work if it meant being with her. The guy was smitten. Sam remembered being happy that at least one of them could have a happy ending. It reminded him of his almost-life with Jessica. He should have known how things would turn out. 

The vengeful spirit was really an Acheri; a demon that takes the form of a little girl. He tried to stop it, but it was a strong son of a bitch. It was about to shred Sam when Andrew pushed him out of the way. He died to save him. 

It wasn’t until after the funeral that his sister broke down. She said it was his fault. She had suggested that maybe the creature wasn’t a spirit, but he convinced her otherwise. She said a real hunter would have known. That he didn’t belong there. He should have stayed at Stanford. Dean, of course, ripped her a new one and Sam stormed off alone. She vanished soon after. 

-

You listed every person you could remember being in contact with the day prior and Dean started the impala. You glanced pleadingly at your little brother, but Sam stared out the window. Dean gave you a small smile. 

“Let’s start with the coroner.” You suggested. “She seemed oddly eager about this whole situation.” Dean nodded and started down the road. 

You leaned your head back, feeling a rush of exhaustion. You had only gotten maybe two hours of sleep, and even then, the nightmare had kept your mind from resting. Your sudden fatigue didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Hey, are you sure you’re up for this?” Dean asked. You nodded, giving him a sarcastic thumbs up. He rolled his eyes and kept driving, glancing back at you in the rearview mirror. He put in a cassette tape and let the sounds of Metallica fill the car. Enter the Sandman. Huh. Kind of ironic. 

You couldn’t have closed your eyes for more than a few seconds. You were just so tired… 

“Dean, stop the car!” Sam yelled suddenly. Dean slammed on the breaks when he saw his sister’s unconscious face. This wasn’t a peaceful nap. Something was wrong. You started jerking back and forth, your body restrained by your seatbelt. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, flinging the driver’s side door open and getting into the back seat. “Sam! What do we do?” Sam panicked, searching his memory for anything he knew about the demon. Unfortunately, none of the facts brought any comfort. 

“If it’s in her head… there’s nothing we can do.” He watched you thrash with a look of desperation. 

“What do you mean there’s nothing we can do!”

“Dream demons can’t be exercised when they’re in a dream.” 

“We can’t just let it kill her!”

“There might be a way… but it’s risky.” 

“I don’t care what it is, we are not losing anyone else in this family, Sammy.” Dean clutched your hand, the terror on your face shooting pain through his heart. His baby sister was crying out for help and he didn’t know how. 

“We’ve got to find that coroner.” 

-

Sure enough, you were right. When Sam and Dean found the coroner, she was passed out on her desk with a broad smile on her face. The demon must not be able to invade two minds at once. 

“Now what?” Dean asked, carrying your flailing body inside. 

“I think…” Sam hesitated. Would this really work? “I think if we can get inside the demon’s head, we can get inside Y/N’s.” 

“And kick the demon out so we can send it back to hell?”

“Exactly.” 

“How do we get in its head?” Dean asked. Sam shrugged. 

“Well, it works through who it has physical contact with right?” Dean nodded. “Well, then theoretically…” Sam slowly put his hand on the woman’s shoulder and collapsed on the floor. 

“Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. There was no other option now. He set you down besides Sam. “Don’t worry, kid, we’re comin to get you.” Without hesitation, he grabbed the woman’s arm and fell into a deep sleep. 

-

“Sam! Y/N!” Dean yelled into the dark and empty house. Sam appeared at the end of the hall. “Did you find her?” He shook his head. Dean looked around. “Where the hell are we?” 

“In Y/N’s head.” Sam grimaced, surveying their grim surroundings. He recognized it almost immediately. “This is where Andrew died.” 

The Winchester brothers tread carefully through the halls. It wasn’t until they climbed the stairs that they heard their sister’s screaming. They sprinted towards the noise, finding you in the corner of the bedroom, pinned against the wall. The manifestation of a little girl clawed a large mark down your chest. You tried to bite back your scream, but you couldn’t help it. 

Lying on the bed was the torn up body of Andrew. 

“Sam! Dean! Run!” You cried. You couldn’t bear to lose them too. They stood their ground. 

“Y/N, you have to fight it. If we can get this thing out of your head, we can send it back to hell!” Sam shouted. 

“I can’t!” You screamed again as the demon scratched your face. 

“Get away from her!” Dean lunged forward and the demon tossed him like a rag doll. 

“Dean!” Sam started after him, but the demon overpowered him as well. 

“No!” You struggled against the force keeping you back. The demon morphed into Andrew, but instead of his soft blue eyes, they were menacing and yellow. 

“This is what you fear the most, isn’t it?” The demon sneered, using Andrew’s voice against you. Sam and Dean were lifted up to the ceiling. “Losing them to ol’ Yellow-Eyes. You’re afraid you’ve already lost daddy and big and baby brother are soon to follow. You’re afraid you’ll be left all alone.” 

“Don’t listen to him!” Dean shouted. 

“Are you just going to let it happen, Y/N?” The demon laughed. “Look at little Sammy. He’s not ready to die.”

“This is just in my head. This isn’t real.” You muttered, screwing your eyes shut. 

“Wrong-o. Looks like the Winchester boys crashed the party. If they burn in here…” The demon made the motion of an explosion with his hands. He cackled at your horrified expression. You looked up at your brothers, both of them writhing from pain. Just like mom. You took a deep breath and prayed that this would work. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…” 

“You little bitch.” The demon snapped. He moved forward, but was stopped by the devil’s trap that you had conjured. 

“We’re in my head, remember?” You continued the incantation. Dean looked impressed and Sam couldn’t help but smile. You had studied the exorcism together after the demon from the plane. The demon shrieked and Sam and Dean fell.

-

The boys woke up. You didn’t. 

You weren’t thrashing anymore, either. You were totally still. Dean was frozen, staring down at you, trying to hold back his pain. 

“Y/N?” Sam whispered, kneeling over you. “Come on, wake up.” He gently shook your shoulders. “Y/N wake up.” 

“Sam-”

“She thinks I hate her, Dean.” Sam cried, desperately trying to get you to open your eyes. “My own sister. I never said I was sorry. I never… oh god, she thinks I hate her!” Sam buried his head in your shoulder and Dean was forced to watch. He couldn’t move or breathe or talk. It wasn’t until he saw the slightest flutter of movement that he was able to join Sam by your side. 

“Hey kid.” Dean smiled as your eyes slowly opened. Sam snatched you up in an embrace before you could even sit up. 

“I thought you were… I was so…” He stammered, squeezing you tighter. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry too, Sammy.” 

The two of you sat there for a while. When you finally pulled away, you were immediately pulled into Dean’s arms. 

“That was pretty badass in there.” He chuckled. You smirked. 

“Well I couldn’t let Dream Douche hurt my boys, could I?” The three of you laughed. A low, rumbling growl sounded from the awakening woman. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean groaned. You weren’t finished yet. The demon still had to be exorcised from the coroner before it could hurt anyone else. 

The three Winchesters gathered around it and you leaned in as it’s black eyes opened. 

“Trick or treat?” You spat, landing a knock-out punch to its face.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado​

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

[dreams-got-dimmer]

New Girl Pt. 2 (Bolin x reader)

Okay here’s the thing I haven’t seen enough steamy Bolin fanfics yet and while I would rather be reading them, I thought maybe I’ll just write one and help out the others who desperately want to read about their fav thicc earth bender.

Summary: multiple part fic?? + AU kind of

(The reader is 18, Bolin is 18 and mako is 20)

Reader desperately needs a place to live and finds an advertisement for two brothers who need a roommate. Maybe more than just living arrangements may come out of this deal... (reader x Bolin) (slow burn)

Disclaimer: I’m changing the story from first person to second as it would make more sense to the reader. If I ever plan on doing POV for Bolin, which I want to it will be in third person. I know it’s a switch up, but I think the story will flow nicer using second and third opposed to using first

Word count: 2399

Warnings: slight angst?

PART 1 PART 3

“so uh, yeah, this is your room,” Bolin rubbed the back of his neck, “I know it’s not much, but hey it’s something right?” he started to fidget on the balls of his feet.

“So bashful, now are we?” you couldn’t help but notice Bolin’s nervousness now that you two were alone. Mako was only on his break when you had arrived and had to get back to work so he left Bolin to show you where everything was in the loft, especially your room. Red heat started to seep into Bolin’s cheeks at your words. As much as you wouldn’t have minded teasing him more you decided to save him the embarrassment.

“I’m just joking,” a small laugh escaped your lips, “I know how hard it can be to meet someone new, especially when you end up alone together,” started to walk around your new room taking in everything it had to offer, which wasn’t much. But that was the best part about it. It was simple and you could make it your own in no time. The poster wasn’t lying when it said the loft had a view of Air Temple Island. Even being a fire bender, watching the wave push and pull was always calming to you. You could see yourself spending hours just drinking in the sounds of the ocean. You turned back to Bolin and smiled, “You seem pretty outgoing, but I can understand how it can be easier to meet new people when your brother is around,” saying that reminded you of all the times you’ve been on your own meeting new people. Sure, it was going just fine now, but it hasn’t always been this way.

“Y-yeah of course, definitely because my brothers not around, heh,” Bolin went back to rubbing his neck. He didn’t do a great job at assuring you that his brothers’ absence was why he was nervous, but you weren’t going to pry. “Anyway, how do you like the loft. I hope it becomes your home as much as it became mine and Mako’s,” The warmth in Bolin’s cheeks finally started to fade as he smiled at you, “It’s better that I could have ever dreamed of,” you admitted. Your parents house was nothing too extravagant, but it was able to hold you and your family somewhat comfortably. The shelter did it’s best to be welcoming and you couldn’t be more grateful to have a warm place to stay, but it couldn’t beat what you were looking at now. Thinking of the shelter reminded you that there were still items of yours at the shelter. It wasn’t much, but you still didn’t want to leave them behind.

“Do you want to come with me to the shelter so I can pick up the rest of my things?” you changed the subject. Bolin seemed nice, but you weren’t too sure how willing he would be to help you with your things, “I would love to go!” he nearly shouted it, “Then you can tell me more about yourself and I can show you my favorite restaurant,” He broke out into the same smile you saw earlier when Mako agreed that you could move in. It was genuine and precious, and it made your stomach tie in a knot.

Bolin might singlehandedly be the sweetest and goofiest person you had ever met. He insisted on going out to eat first and as you both walked and made it his mission to keep you laughing. The nerves he had before were practically non-existent now. He told you all about pro-bending and even though you’ve been to matches and knew the rules you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because of how enthused he was to talk to you about it. He even promised to bring you to practice and matches. And even though he was an earth bender he wanted to show you moves you could use in a match and maybe he could even get Mako to show you something too. You happily agreed to everything Bolin offered because 1. It did seem really fun and 2. You couldn’t wait to show Bolin what you were actually capable of with your bending. It’s not like he was trying to be rude, but maybe Bolin assumed you didn’t know how to do much since your parents restricted it. The thing is strict parents cause sneaky kids and you were the sneakiest of them all. You had been sneaking out since the young age of eight and you had learned a lot more than anybody even knew. So, maybe it was a good thing that your parents were that way. If they weren’t you may have never had the knowledge of bending that you have now.

Even though you were going to pick up your things the day was starting to feel like a date. Bolin had brought you to Narook’s, which he happily told you had the best noodles in all of Republic City then proceeded to eat three bowls to himself. You were beside yourself that you had never gone here before. Bolin wasn’t joking that these were the best noodles in all of Republic City and you almost wanted to get mad at him because he just introduced you to your newest money pit. It would be so worth it, though. Especially if you got to have days like this with Bolin. He even refused to let you pay no matter how hard you tried to get the waiter to take your money. If it was a date, you wouldn’t have been angry in the slightest. He was charming you by the second and the way his eyes would shift from jade to emerald within seconds did nothing to stop you from being lost in everything that Bolin was.

The sugary sweet feeling you had in your chest soon turned sour. The feeling wasn’t even caused by the two of you facing the shelter it was what Bolin said that made your insides curdle and all the happiness of the day went numb.

“I can’t wait to introduce you to Korra! She’s the avatar and everything about her is amazing,” he looked at you with lovesick eyes and it made you wish that you were Korra, “She’s beautiful and talented and she’s even on the Fire Ferrets with me and Mako,” a blush crept back onto Bolin’s face and you wanted more than anything that it was you who was making him blush. You wanted to slap yourself in the face for thinking this way. You just met him. He wasn’t anything to you. You tried not to think about how he himself helped you have the best day you’ve had in years, maybe in your life. You’ve been with guys, but none of them have ever made you feel this happy, especially within the first hours of meeting and you and Bolin hadn’t even kissed. You weren’t about to let some boy you just met control your emotions like this, even if he was impossibly adorable.

“I’m thinking of asking her out. I’m just so nervous,” Bolin confessed as he began rubbing the back of his neck, which was oddly attractive by the way. No, stop you can’t keep thinking like that. You tried your best to shake away any thoughts of jealously and the minute attraction you had for the earth bender, “you’re a girl, what would be the ideal date for you?” He pleaded as his lip jutted out into a pout. You gulped. If it wasn’t bad enough that you misread this day so far, this day was the best answer you could give him. Scraping together every ounce of courage you had, you decided to be honest, “My ideal date,” you pretended to muse even though you didn’t even have to utter a single thought to know what it would be, “Honestly just do what you did today and I’m positive she’ll love it,” you breathed out as Bolin’s eyes widen. That was enough honesty for the day. You looked away from him quickly trying to ignore his lips parting.

“We should go get my stuff now,” you shrugged, “There’s not much anyway, so it should be easy,” you didn’t wait for his answer as you rushed into the shelter. Bolin trailed in moments after you and you kept your head down not wanting to talk to him yet. Maybe you just ruined whatever friendship you had with Bolin by telling him the truth. Your thoughts came to a halt as you crashed into something, actually someone.

“Spirits I’m sorry,” you sputtered looking up. You eased when you saw it was just Anzu one of the volunteers at the shelter. Not only that, she also had become one of your close friends during this month stay. The two of you were complete opposites and it was hard to understand how the two of you clicked so well. She was everything you weren’t.  She was perfection and grace. Anzu embodied everything that was ethereal. She was golden and her strawberry blonde hair flowed in a way that made it seem like she was underwater. Anzu grabbed your arms to steady the two of you and began to smile.

“Always so clumsy,” Her laugh tinkled in your ears, “and who is this?” curiosity lined her voice as her eyes shifted to look at Bolin.

“shut it Anzu I am not,” you grumbled crossing your arms, “And this is Bolin he’s my new roommate along with his brother Mako,” happiness spread through you again, “Bolin this is Anzu she’s my best friend, but she also volunteers here,” You motioned between the two and Bolin waved enthusiastically. “No way!” Anzu exclaimed, “You found a place to stay?!” She grabbed a hold of you nearly shaking you, “I’m so so so happy for you. I’m going to miss you, though,” She frowned a bit pulling me into a hug, “Please visit all the time, how am I going to stay sane without you?” you pulled away from each other.

It was a bittersweet feeling because Anzu was right. She had made staying at the shelter bearable and not only that, she had gotten you out trouble too many times to count. She’s even responsible for you being able to stay at the shelter even though you burnt part of the living quarters down out of anger and frustration when you first showed up.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to survive, but I’ll make sure to visit as often as I can,” you assured her.

You both hugged again not really wanting the moment to end, “I’ll let you two get your things, It was nice meeting you Bolin, I hope to see more of you soon,” Anzu breathed out as she glided away down the hall.

You started down the hall thinking about how much you were actually going to miss not seeing Anzu every day. “what happened here?” Bolin stood wide eyed as you approached your room and you didn’t even have to look at what it was, “I did that,” you muttered, glancing at the burnt hallway. Your parents had the audacity to show up at the shelter after a week of staying there. They had more to say about what a horrible monster you were. How they wished you were never born. It was a disgrace to them that a bender was born into their family. The staff was kind enough to force them out of the building, but it only did so much to aid your already broken heart. That interaction was the last straw for you and it precedented the substantial breakdown that caused the burning of half of the bedrooms. No would could get close to you no even Anzu. You had no idea what to feel. It was too much the hate, frustration, and brokenness of it all. It caught up to you and the only outlet you could use was destruction. The next day you apologized profusely to everyone at the shelter and promised that once you started making steady money you would help pay to rebuild that section of the quarters.

“You,” he paused, “Did that?” Bolin was in utter disbelief. You were desensitized to the area having to look at it for the past weeks, his words made you look at it with fresh eyes. There was no denying that it was a gruesome sight. Most of the walls were charred through and there were tarps to keep the outside elements from getting in. All the furniture was pretty much disintegrated and looking at it too long just made your stomach sick, “can we just get my things?” you pleaded feeling small, “I don’t really want to talk about it,”.  You pushed your door open and before you could take a look for the last time at the place you had been staying, Bolin pulled you into a hug. He bowed his head into the crook of your neck and let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry for whatever happened,” He drew back and looked at you earnestly, “Me too,” his hug felt like warmth and hot tea on a bad day. He was surprisingly gentle for how muscled he was and even if you didn’t want it to end you plastered a smile on your face, “Let’s get my things so we can get the hell out of here,” You motioned towards you room. It didn’t take long to gather your extra clothes and odds and ends and before you knew it you were spending your first night in the loft. You looked out at the ocean and let the sounds of the tide help you mull over what happened during the day. You were able to close a chapter in your life that you didn’t think was going to end and as for Bolin he was your roommate and hopefully friend and you weren’t going to jeopardize that just because there was some semblance of attraction for him. Besides, he seemed to really like Korra and that’s what mattered, not the inconsequential feelings you might have for Bolin. You were sure you’d wake up in the morning and the tiny crush would dissipate, for you had bigger things to worry about, like finding a job and actually making friends with Bolin and Mako instead of pining over them.

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a/n: wow guys I'm amazed at myself that I have written this much. But if you have made it this far thank you! I wanted to do a slow burn for this fic and it’s actually a lot harder than I thought, but I am trying my best. I’ve never really wrote fiction before so if you guys have any advice on how to improve my writing, please let me know! again thank you so much for reading this far (: I hope to see you again soon 

-S

Taglist:

​ @yellowoctvber @doubtedbus409

[anigodd]

The Deal

Here it is, the crossover I said I would do like 3 weeks ago. Sorry about that. anyway, first and foremost, I’m a Captainsparklez stan, so he is the main character. Also, if you don’t know anything about Mianite, this aint for you, sorry. 

Let’s get started! It’s super long, but enjoy!

Summary:

Jordan would not consider himself a cruel man, but when he saw that children, especially Tubbo, were being forced to fight in a war? Well, if he made a seemingly harmless deal with JSchlatt in order to...persuade him to end the war, then that was his own decision to justify. After all, what was a war without a little bit of psychological torture?

Most of the time, people forget that Jordan, better known as Captainsparklez or just The Captain, was old. I don’t mean in his 40s or 50s, I mean thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of years old. He’s fought for balance for as long as his lady had accepted him as her Champion millennia ago. Most don’t know simply because they don’t ask.

Most of the time, people forget that he is not entirely human. He’s immortal—it come with the job description—and has spent so much time in the End that it was bound to affect him eventually. His Lady, ever the one to always worry about him, changed him ever so slightly so that he was not susceptible to most human weaknesses: he didn’t need to sleep as much, better stamina, strength, etc. He complained that she did not have to do that, to save her power for something more important than him, but she stared him straight in his eyes and said with such conviction and with such sadness in her eyes that he was stunned,

“You are the most important thing to me, Jordan. Please, never forget that.”

He never did.

Most of the time, people forget that Jordan was dangerous. You don’t remain the Champion of the Goddess of Balance without having a few perks, nor do you simply kill a god and not absorb some of their power. In his dreams, he could see snippets of the future, not like his Lady, but just enough to influence his actions in wars or in everyday life to help maintain balance. Jordan could feel a deep ache in his soul when balance was disrupted. He can travel to and fro from the end without the need for a portal—he teleported like an enderman (he wouldn’t stop scaring Tom with this new-found power for days). He knew how to use a bit of magic, some was taught to him by the Ianite in Ruxomar. Just simple spells, such as small barriers or being able to communicate with endermen. He really had to hone his magic at some point. What was most interesting was his control over some of the Darkness’ domain. He never figured that he gained a little bit of something from killing World Historian all those years ago, he just thought he was mentally prepared for the next years to come.

Turns out he was wrong again.

The Darkness, before their final battle, had brought this to his attention. The deity would always poke into his head and whisper to him, but Jordan would push him out of his head when it got too much for him. After a few times, the Darkness said that Jordan had more power over his mind than he thought. The deity’s voice sounded intrigued by this development and soon worked harder to get Jordan on his side to no avail. However, what the Darkness said lingered in the back of his mind until one day, after the war, his Lady brought it up.

They were quietly sitting in her temple in the End when she spoke.

“Captain, I don’t want to pry, but I know that you’ve been thinking about what the Darkness told you and, if you wanted, I could help you control it?” She hesitantly offered. Jordan froze.

The Darkness told him a lot of things. He promised him weapons of infinite power, nights of peaceful rest, a break from the voices in his mind—a break from fighting. He promised him a peaceful life if he joined him. The Captain composed himself but stopped.

‘Control what?’ he thought. Now he was confused. It must have shown on his face because a smile blossomed on Ianite’s face.

“I wanted to teach you how to control your mind. The Darkness noticed you were able to block him from your mind. That does not come from years of experience, Captain. It’s more of a gift...or perhaps a curse. This power is why, when I was being influenced, I was unable to communicate with you,” she explained.

“Unable to talk to me? Why? I never intentionally pushed you away,” Jordan questioned. He would never ignore his Lady, even if she wasn’t really herself.

She chuckled. “I know you wouldn’t, Jordan. Thank you for that. What I mean is that you subconsciously blocked out all influences if the Darkness, including me.”

She watched as his eyes widened, but he nodded slowly in understanding. He waited for her to continue before he asked his questions; she could feel his curiosity.

“I could either help you control and develop this power, or you could leave it as a sort of unconscious barrier for your mind. There are many aspects that come with this gift, not just protection for yourself. If you wish, we could start immediately?” Ianite inquired.

She hoped he accepted. The Captain was like a son to her and it would mean the world to Ianite if she could finally teach him something as a mother would teach her son to ride a bike. She wanted to see him grow into his power and watch with pride as he mastered magic. Yes, she hoped he would accept.

Ianite watched as he thought about it. He stared at her. She could see his burning curiosity and the look of hope on her face. The truth was, the Captain craved knowledge more than power. He wanted to know anything and everything that he could, and this was something he wanted to learn. It may come in handy in the future.

He nodded. “When do you want to start, M’lady?” he asked with a smile.

She grinned. “We can start immediately.”

Oh, she couldn’t wait to see what he would become. No matter what, she would be proud.

—————— Nobody knew the extent of Jordan’s power or what he was trained to do. Rumors spread of the great hero who learned how to harness old magic from the teachings of the Goddess herself. Others say he went mad with power and tormented her with visions of destruction. Some say he does not look human anymore. Some say he guards her temple in the End and is still loyal to her thousands of years later. Others say he got to live his life in peace after training.

Some of those rumors are true. After all, all myths come from a seed of truth. Nowadays, though, The Captain does live in relative peace. He gets to participate in tournaments, such as the newest one called Minecraft Championship, where he really just plays for fun. He never got to make friends or have fun for his years under the gods, but the Universe has calmed down and his Lady wanted to see him have fun and socialize.

Most of them recognized him or had heard of him. He was always so uncomfortable with attention or praise but thankfully—THANKFULLY—their starry-eyed looks stopped after a while. Unless, of course, he said something that they recognized as one of his catchphrases all hell broke loose but...well...it was pretty funny to watch them yell and laugh good-naturedly when he said something like that.

Some asked him a million questions about his life or his adventures, especially this...child? His name was Tubbo and, apparently, Jordan was his role-model. He was flattered and a bit flustered. Most people that came up to him were older than 16 and usually asked about his fighting tactics or the wars he fought in. But this kid asked about none of those. Tubbo was the nicest kid he had ever met and tried to give him the best answers that he could, even if the were a little vague at some points—he didn’t want to scar the boy.

Tubbo didn’t seem to care. He always stared at him with the most excited smile and genuinely interested expression that he nearly cries thinking about it. Only a few people look at him so kindly it hurts. Tubbo is always bursting with questions and the Captain is always happy to answer. It became a thing for Tubbo to follow him around, prompting Jordan to call him ‘duckling’ in his mind.

He has started to become a bit worried about Tubbo and his loud friend, Tommy, though. The two are usually so boisterous and loud that it was hard to miss them. Nowadays, when he sees them, the two teens are more subdued and they look....exhausted. He’s seen that look. He knows they are fighting a war they cannot win.

Jordan knows he has to put an end to the fighting. If not for Tubbo, then for his own peace of mind. He finds Jschlatt on his own private server and strikes a sort of a deal with the man.

His smile is ice and his eyes are as dark as the Void when they shake hands. Purple tendrils and sparks emerge from their handshake, giving Jordan access to Jschlatt’s every move. The magic let Schlatt know that there was no backing out of this deal.

Their souls were intertwined until the deal was done. —————— Nobody knew that Jordan was a deal maker. Not that he did it much in the first place—there wasn’t anything that he wanted from others and he hated exercising his power over others.

This time, however, was an exception.

He knew what Schlatt had done to Tubbo and the others on Dream’s SMP. He knew that they were hurting. He hated seeing families torn apart and children being forced to grow up and fight. They should’ve had a childhood. They shouldn’t have to be forced into a war, and for what? Power? Glory? Honor? No honorable soldier would endorse using children to fight. No honorable leader or nation would do so either.

He noticed the shadows on the walls growing and harmful magic beginning to swarm around him.

Jordan heaved a sigh. He had to calm down before he did anything he would regret. He looked back at Schlatt from where he was hidden in the shadows. The hybrid was sat at his desk in the White House, languidly drinking from a glass as if there was no war going on; as if he isn’t responsible for the suffering going on in his lands.

He gave Schlatt two weeks to fulfill his end of the deal before Jordan fulfilled his end, but it doesn’t seem like Schlatt was even slightly worried about their agreement.

The Captain watched as he filled out paperwork and discarded peace treaties or ideas for that may improve Manburg. The lack of care for his nation made Jordan’s blood boil.

How careless.

How cruel.

How sickening. —————

Most know that Jordan, at his core, is kind-hearted and humble. He would never attack without a reason, but even before then, he would try to negotiate. It’s why he has been the Champion of Balance for so long: it’s in his nature.

That being said, Jordan is not a cruel or sadistic man. But to him, this deal was important to him. It would bring peace and protection to those in Dream’s land. They have been fighting for too long and are beginning to lose themselves. It had to be stopped.

As another few days went by, and soon, with 5 days left for Schlatt to fulfill his end of the deal, Jordan knew he had to give a bit of an....incentive to Schlatt.

He smiled. While he hated using his powers over the mind, now looked like a good time for some practice. The Captain waited until Schlatt was asleep to enter his mind. Since their souls were intertwined because of the deal, his plan was much simpler. His eyes glowed a deep purple.

After all, what was a little bit of psychological torture on one person if it benefitted the masses?

The Captain left the man to sleep. He had a feeling he’s be hearing from Schlatt in the next few days. And maybe, if Schlatt heard clocks ticking a bit louder than normal and seemed to echo in his mind, well, that was for Jordan to know, wasn’t it? ————————

Schlatt woke up with a killer headache and an unsettling feeling. The hairs on the back if his neck stood up and his shoulders tensed. Was he being watched? He looked around his room with a steady gaze. The room was quiet save for the birds outside and his clock. Had it always been that loud?

No matter. He couldn’t see anyone but that didn’t mean he was safe. Maybe he should have Tubbo stay by his side for the day until his paranoia passed?

Something caught his eye. He could have sworn he saw the shadows grow in his room after that thought. He shrugged to himself. He definitely needed more sleep if he was starting to see shadow demons.

Ha.

He took a deep breath and began to get ready for the day. He had paperwork to do and meetings to plan. If Manburg were to be under his rule, there had to be a few new....rules put into place.

‘Yes,’ he smiled. ‘New regulations wouldn’t hurt anybody.’

He walked down the hallways of the White House quicker than he usually does. Why does he feel like someone was watching him? Was Pogtopia planning an attack? The thought made him snort.

‘Right, like they could plan a decent attack,’ he thought.

When he looked outside to where the seats in front of the podium were located, he didn’t see a nice grassy field with a peaceful waterfall. Instead, he saw ashes falling from the sky like snow, a red haze filling the air, and fires burning with. The birds chirping distorted into echoed screams of agony. The podium was blown to bits and Tubbo...oh god....—

He blinked and the scenery reverted to normal.

“Sir?” a small voice asked from behind him.

Schlatt jumped and tried to control his breathing. When did he begin to hyperventilate? Why was he shaking?

He stared into the concerned and slightly wary eyes of Tubbo. Jesus, the kid was quiet.

He let out a breath and put his hand on his chest.

“Christ, Tubbo, you’re gonna give this old man a heart attack one day,” he tried to joke.

Tubbo cracked a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you alright, Schlatt? You were staring out at the lawn like someone died.” Tubbo said.

Schlatt froze. He did see someone dead. But it wasn’t a memory, what was it?

He looked at Tubbo and put his hand on the kid’s shoulder. Geez, he was just a kid, wasn’t he.

“Whatever happens, Tubbo, just know that it’s not your fault,” is all he said before walking into his office and closing the door. Tubbo was so confused, but Schlatt has done weirder and so he let it go. He wanted to see Tommy.

The clock in Schlatt’s office echoed in his mind as he worked. ——————

The one thing that Jordan hated was being mistaken for a kind-hearted fool.

He watched as Schlatt worked for another 3 days while enduring the visions of what may become of Manburg.

He watched as Schlatt ignored the shadows on the walls and the ticking of his clock.

He watched as Schlatt jumped in his seat when the whispers of the End began to echo in his ears.

He watched as Schlatt could not sleep for the rest of the 5 days.

He watched as the man slowly broke down. The visions kept him awake, the clocks were too loud, the whispers were in a language he couldn’t understand and the feeling of being watched drove him to the brink of insanity.

The others began to notice his quickly deteriorating health.

Schlatt had dark bags under his eyes that nearly looked like bruises. He was constantly looking over his shoulder and nearly broke all of the clocks in the White House. While talking to someone, his eyes always darted to the corners of the rooms. Most worryingly, he would just stare at something that looked normal, say an open field, and nearly put himself into a panic attack. The residents may not like him but they hated seeing anyone reduced to shambles. They tried to help him but all they get is incoherent mumbles or snippets of what may be Schlatt’s imagination.

Whatever it was, it had to stop.

The first time Wilbur heard of Schlatt’s health, he laughed. He laughed so hard he cried and couldn’t breath for at least 5 minutes. Tommy and Tubbo joined in, though their laughter was much weaker. The times after hearing about it, though, something changed in Wilbur. He could see how it was scaring Tubbo and at the rare times Niki visited, she expressed her genuine concerns over Schlatt.

“We may not like him too much, Wilbur, but you haven’t seen him. The poor man looks like he’s gonna run himself to his grave. We’re all worried about him,” is what she said to him when he asked why they were so concerned about him.

Wilbur wanted to see how Schlatt was fairing. Techno didn’t seem to care too much but he seemed interested in what happened to Schlatt.

“I’ll go along only because I wanna see what he looks like when he walks,” was Techno’s justification to visiting the White House. Okay then, Techno.

Tommy was coming along as well. He was practically dying from curiosity, but he also wanted to see Tubbo. Wilbur didn’t question his logic either.

However, they didn’t have to sneak into Manburg like they had planned to. They received an invitation to an SMP meeting in the community center in 3 hours. Everyone on the server had to attend, including Dream. This surprised Wilbur as he held the letter in his hands. Why would Dream have to attend if Schlatt was calling this meeting?

“Kinda sus of him, not gonna lie,” Techno said from behind him.

Wilbur hummed and turned around.

“Do you think we should go?”

Techno looked at him, practically expressionless. Wilbur stared back--- he was used to waiting for an answer.

“Tommy will complain for days if we don’t go, so yeah, we’re going,” is what Techno said eventually.

Wilbur sighed and crumpled the letter. He looked back at Techno, who was starting to head to the entrance of their ravine.

“Can you wait for Tommy and I before you go off and commit war crimes?” He joked.

Techno stopped.

“BruuUhhhH.”

Wilbur just laughed and went to fetch the blond gremlin from his room.

He just hoped this meeting didn’t go to shit. ———————— Schlatt felt like shit. He didn’t know what was happening to him or why but he just wanted it to stop.

Every corner he turned there was some depiction of an explosion or a massacre in that area. Quiet rooms were too loud with the whispers and the clocks. He kept the lights on at all times.

What was breaking him down the most was the constant feeling of being watched. Even with multiple people in the room, it was like a predator was watching its prey from afar. Waiting to pounce. He was at his wits end, but finally, hours before he called the SMP meeting, he got answers.

He was trying to do paperwork but was really just staring at the same paragraph for an hour. His mind was muddled and he couldn’t form a coherent thought.

He was so tired but every time he closed his eyes, it was another scene of death and destruction. He hands shook so badly that he had to put his pen down and place his head in his hands.

“You seem to be struggling, Schlatt,” a voice said from behind him. That feeling of being watched increased tenfold, causing Schlatt to tense and look behind him.

The Captain was standing in the corner of the room. The shadows obscured most of his figure but he could see his eyes—what happened to his eyes?—and his unnerving smile.

Schlatt tired to summon some of his dignity.

“Captain! Long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

Jordan’s expression didn’t change, but the room darkened a bit. Schlatt noticed.

“Have you been doing that? It’s been driving me nuts!” he angrily exclaimed.

Jordan cocked his head to the side.

“Have you forgotten about our deal, Schlatt?” Is all he asked. Why was his voice suddenly deeper? It rumbled in his ears and was vaguely threatening. His heart rate picked up and he had a feeling that Jordan was not just some guy he made a deal with.

He steeled his nerves. There is no way that Jordan is anything but human. He looked towards the Captain who was impossibly still with his creepy smile.

“No, I didn’t forget about it. I just....had better things to do,” was his defense. That apparently was the wrong answer.

Jordan was suddenly right in front of him, smile gone and eyes staring straight into him. Schlatt’s instincts immediately screamed ‘danger!’ and ‘run!’ but something was keeping him in place. He felt his heart pounding in his chest but he still couldn't move away. Purple eyes bored into his own. 

Jordan placed a deceptively gentle hand on his cheek.

“I don’t like being mistaken for a fool, Schlatt. We made this deal to benefit both of us, yet you exploit my charity,” he patronized. The power radiating from those words nearly had Schlatt tumbling to his knees but he stood firm.

“I’ll give you 24 hours, but,” his hand suddenly gripped his face tightly and forced Schlatt to look at him. What he saw terrified him.

“If you continue to fail to uphold your end of the deal, then, well,” he released his hold on Schlatt, “I hope you’ll be able to get used to the way your currently living,” he threatened. The Captain straightened and gave him yet another unnerving smile.

Out of nowhere, he summoned an intricate clock and began to wind it. It was a beautiful black with purple and gold accents. The outer design of the clock resembled...scales? At the center, there was an ender eye. The numbers weren’t exactly numbers but looked like writing one would find in an enchantment table. How in the hell did Jordan get a clock like this?

He finished winding the clock and Schlatt thought he was going to place it down on his desk. He was wrong once again. A deep purple aura surrounded the clock and it disappeared with a burst of particles. Unfortunately, he could still hear it ticking next to his ear.

“This should remind you of the limited time that you have,” he began to back away before he stopped and turned around with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I’m not a cruel man, JSchlatt. But I do believe in an eye for an eye. I hope you make the right decision,” he said, and he was gone in a flash of purple.

Schlatt shakily sat down—when had he stood up?—and began to draft a peace treaty for Manburg. The writing was shaky and nearly illegible, but it would have to do. Then, he called a meeting for all of SMP to attend.

He sat for 3 hours listening to the incessant ticking. It was becoming more and more distorted in his mind as the hours ticked by. ——————— Once everyone was seated at a round table in the community house, they all looked towards Schlatt for an explanation.

The atmosphere was tense, mainly from Wilbur and Tommy, while the rest tried to sit as comfortably as they could. Dream was practically lounging in his chair.

“So, Schlatt,” Wilbur practically spat his name, “what did you call this oh so important meeting for?” he asked and crossed his arms.

It was his first time seeing Schlatt since his exile and he felt...just a little bit of pity for him. His clothes were rumpled as if he had slept in them, his eyes were red—he looked about ready to fall asleep but always jerked awake at the last second. His eyes were darting to the corners of the room. Wilbur looked around but found nothing out of the ordinary. He could see the others glancing around the room as well, unnerved by Schlatt’s paranoia.

Schlatt, even though he was incredibly shaky and oh so tired, stood up. He was still the President, damn it. All eyes were on him as he cleared his throat.

“I have called this meeting to.....to....” he was having second thoughts. Did he really want to give up his power over Pogtopia and Manburg? He enjoyed the chaos and having control over everything. He wasn’t ready to give this up yet.

He saw the shadows move and the Captain manifested from the shadows. The ticking was nearly deafening. Jordan’s eyes were deadly, his smile nowhere to be found. He looked non-human without his glasses on.

Schlatt was so focused on his appearance that he missed when the Captain drew his sword—a near black blade that looked wickedly sharp. The handle was intricately carved with ancient spells and magic seals. Schlatt noticed too late that Jordan had heard his thoughts.

The Captain rushed at him with his sword raised and cold eyes boring into his soul. HIs smile was nearly feral as he charged. Schlatt shrieked and stumbled backwards into the wall and raised his hands to defend himself from the blows-

But nothing came.

He shakily looked around and noticed that the room was giving him nervous looks. Quakity and Niki were nearly out of their seats while Dream was sitting straight in his chair. Schlatt shakily let out a breath and began to stand.

“Schlatt...” Tubbo began but Schlatt waved him off.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just my imagination,” he easily lied.

Those in attendance saw right through this lie, but decided that once he begins talking, they may get an explanation.

Schlatt took a breath and tried to calm his racing heart. He was so tired. His whole body shook with adrenaline and exhaustion and, god, he just wanted to sleep but he couldn’t. Not with the state he was in now. The Captain’s words echoed in his mind: ‘I hope you can get used to this.’

Schlatt decided that he couldn’t live like this and made his decision. He sat down and took out the drafts of the peace treaty and set them on the table.

“The fuck’s all this?” Tommy quietly mutters while picking up a paper and scrutinizing it. But of course, Tommy’s version of quiet is still decently loud.

“It’s a peace treaty. If you read through this and sign, Manburg and Pogtopia will cease their fighting and hold another election. This time, however, two partied cannot combine their votes,” Schlatt explained. He saw the room looking at him with mixed reactions.

Some looked relieved that the fighting would be over, others were skeptical, and some looked elated at the chance to live peacefully again. Wilbur, however, was not convinced. He was looking at Schlatt skeptically while reading the treaty silently.

‘He’s looking for a loophole,’ was whispered in his ear. It took all of Schlatt’s willpower not to look to his left in fear of what he may see. He could hear the smile on the Captain’s face.

Finally, Wilbur spoke.

“And why should we believe that you would peacefully give up your power? We know that you love the fighting, the wars, the power,” his voice rose as he continued, “why should we trust anything you say?” he finished with a shout.

Wilbur was breathing heavily and glaring at Schlatt. The atmosphere became almost unbearably tense until Jordan finally decided to step in.

He had been silently watching from the shadows, making sure Schlatt stayed in check but also to make sure that the deal was completed. There was mistrust in the air, and to be honest, he was getting impatient. Jordan really wanted to get the treaty over with and go home, take a nap, and preferably not get up for three days.

“Schlatt’s telling the truth,” he says before he steps out of the shadows. He nearly chuckles at the bewildered looks he gets as he steps into view.

A very eager Tubbo is soon clinging to his waist and looking up at him with such relief that he does not regret even the smallest bit of what he’s done to Schlatt. He noticed the boy looked close to tears and was starting to bury his face into his coat.

Jordan placed a gentle hand on Tubbo’s head and he flinched. Oh, he was about to murder whoever hurt his boy. His Lady’s influence reminded him that no, no matter how much it would have been justified, he could not kill someone in this land. He took a deep breath and looked up.

“Does anyone have any questions or will you sign the contract?” he said more as a statement than a question. Tubbo’s arms tightened around his waist. Jordan should really ask him what’s been going on; he wanted to help him and Tommy in any way he could.

Dream, however, had a question.

“How did you get into my server? You’re not whitelisted and I know for a fact that Tubbo doesn’t have the admin power to invite you” Dream said, though he sounded a tad accusatory.

Did he not see what was going on in his server? Did he not care that people were being traumatized? Did he not care that they were losing hope?

The Captain chuckled. The sound caused everyone to shiver and for Schlatt to shrink in his seat. He noticed the clock had stopped ticking and his heart sunk. Fuck, was he too late?

“Dream,” the Captain took off his glasses and his whole visage changed.

His warm brown eyes were now a deep purple that held a small glow to them. His hair was impossibly dark—it looked like of you were put put your hand on it, it would sink right in like a shadow. The outside around his eyes were veins of crying obsidian, a stark contrast to his skin. His clothes floated almost as if he were in water and the pure power of magic that radiated from him was nearly stifling.

“I don’t need your permission to enter your lands when I feel that ethical and moral laws are being broken. I knew something was wrong when Tubbo stopped talking passionately about anything and everything. I knew something was wrong when those from here flinched and loud noises. And I knew something was wrong when you didn’t seem to care,” he spat.

He gently pulled Tubbo from around his waist and walked next to Schlatt. The air around him rippled like water and the shadows grew.

“Now,” he purred. “Schlatt and I made a bit of a deal. A peace treaty that stopped the fighting on these lands that also prohibited future wars in exchange for books on basic magic,” he explained.

The room listened intently.

“But,” he dramatically sighed and Schlatt tried to make himself as small as possible.

“Schlatt here didn’t feel like adhering to our deal very much, so I gave him a bit of incentive,” he stopped there and looked at the room as if that explained everything.

“What does that have to do with my lands?” Dream asked.

Jordan paused. How could he say this as delicately as possible? He sighed and cleaned his glasses in his coat.

“You have to understand that I’m not a cruel man, but I hate being mistaken for a fool. I told Schlatt this when he had five days remaining to complete his end of the deal. If you remember, he may have started acting a bit...differently?” he began.

Niki gasped.

“You were doing that to him? Making him go nearly insane?!” she exclaimed. While she may not like Schlatt, that was cruel of him.

“Yeah, we were really worried for him. What did you do to him, man?” Quakity asked. He was really not liking this side of the Captain.

“I think it was perfectly reasonable, especially when the lives of children were on the line. Honestly, you all should be ashamed of yourselves. Making children fight—who does that?!” he angrily exclaimed.

“They wanted to fight!” Wilbur defended.

Jordan’s dark eyes rounded on him and while he would never admit it, Wilbur was terrified. There was such resentment and disgust in his expression that he almost regretted the war. Almost.

“Have you ever once asked then what they wanted? You’re living in a hole for my goddesses’ sake! Tommy looks like he hasn’t eaten in days and Tubbo is on the brink of tears! Are you so blinded by greed that you can’t see you’re hurting them?” his voice rose as he pointed out the obvious states of the teens.

Tommy was so conflicted. He wanted to defend himself and Wilbur, but he was intimidated by the Captain. He usually never cared for being weaker than other people, but he felt if he used his usual snark he’d be vaporized or something. He looked to Tubbo. His best friend was struggling to keep his emotions in check ever since the Captain arrived, but he knew Tubbo adored the man to high heaven. If Tubbo trusted the Captain’s judgement, then so would he.

Wilbur hadn’t spoken yet, so he did.

“Wil,” he began quietly.

Wilbur turned towards the blond. He hoped he wouldn’t say anything that would confirm what Jordan said.

“Yes, Tommy?” wilbur sounded near accusatory.

The teen but his lip and looked towards Techno, who sat next to him. The pink haired man gave him a subtle nod to continue.

Tommy let put a deep breath. Techno was always right, wasn’t he.

“I.....I want to go home,” he admitted.

Wilbur was shocked. Go home? Why? They were fighting for their country back and Tommy wanted to go home?

“Why would you want to go home, Tommy? I’m so close to getting L’manburg back! If we could just-“

“I don’t want to fight anymore!” he cried. The room went silent.

“I don’t want to fight, Wil....” he said again in a small voice.

Wilbur didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if he was angry or heartbroken at Tommy’s admission. He didn’t want to fight?

“We can go home if you want, Tommy. Just let me call Phil and we can head over once the meeting is done,” Techno said softly.

Tommy nearly cried in relief. He would get to see Phil again and sleep in a proper bed in a comfy house. He hugged Techno tightly, not caring if it ruined his alpha male reputation.

“Thanks, Techno,” he shakily said.

Tommy looked towards Tubbo.

“Do you want to come along, Big T?” he asked with a small smile.

Tubbo hesitated. He wanted to go with Tommy, he really did, but he just felt...safer with the Captain. Jordan must have sensed his conflict because he immediately changed the conversation.

“So,” he drawled and garnered everyone’s attention, “will you sign or subject Schlatt to some more mind games for the rest of his life?” he asked. It wasn’t a threat, but they knew a promise when they saw one.

“How do we know that you’ll continue to pester Schlatt and not just leave him be?” Quakity asked.

“Please, no, just sign the treaty! He’s legit, he’ll keep going!” Schlatt begged.

He was right, Jordan would have to keep this up if the deal wasn’t finished.

“He’s right. The deal wasn’t just a simple handshake. Our souls are temporarily connected until the deal is completed. Until then, I have power over him,” he revealed.

Quakity’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and immediately signed the treaty. Schlatt nearly sobbed in relief. He knew there was a reason Quakity was in his cabinet.

He passed the treaty to his left and it soon traveled all around the table until it got to Wilbur. He glared at the treaty, then at Schlatt.

“If this is a joke, I’ll kill you myself,” he warned.

Schlatt gave a shaky smile.

“Believe me, I’m really not joking about this.”

Wilbur stared at him a bit longer before signing and passing the paper on. It finally reached Schlatt.

He was about to sign when a pen was in front of his face. He looked at the Captain in confusion.

“This pen will help end the deal. It’s all magicy and stuff, pretty swick,” he explained with a less menacing smile.

Schlatt instantly took the pen and signed his name. The ink glowed red and blue before fading. Schlatt slumped in his seat, unconscious. Some panicked and went to check on him but Jordan stopped them.

“He’s fine, just overtired. He’ll wake up in a day or two with a completely restored mindset,” he soothed.

They nodded but still picked him up and took him to a room with a bed so he could at least rest comfortably.

Jordan clapped his hands together and smile happily.

“Welp, I think that settles everything for today! Unless you have any questions, you guys are good to leave,” he cheerily said.

Some immediately left while others took their time leaving. Niki hugged Tubbo and Tommy before leaving while Techno left to wait outside for Tommy. Wilbur, Tubbo, Tommy, and Jordan were the only ones left in the room.

It seemed like nobody would talk first, so Jordan took a seat next to Tubbo.

“You can go with Tommy, if you want Tubbo. I won’t be offended,” he softly offered.

Tubbo glanced unsurely between Tommy and Jordan.

“Could I...speak with Tommy in private? Please?” he asked.

Jordan nodded and motioned for Wilbur to follow him outside. The brunet hesitated, but with a stern glance he was leaving the room.

Tommy and Tubbo sat in tense silence before they spoke.

“Tommy-“

“Tubbo-“

The tension broke as they laughed with each other. Tommy began before Tubbo could say anything.

“Do you not want to come with me and Phil?” he hesitantly asked. There was an undertone of hurt but Tommy was trying to understand. This was Tubbo, and he trusted Tubbo.

Said best friend looked away as he fidgeted with his fingers and sighed. Tommy felt his chest tighten.

“Come on, just say what you want. I’m a man!” he joked, but it fell a little flat.

Tubbo looked at him.

“It’s nothing against you, Tommy, or-or even Techno or Phil, but, I just....I dunno, I feel....safer? I guess? With the Captain cuz he’s just great and he listens really well and you know how I get sometimes but-“

“Big T you don’t have to defend him,” Tommy cuts him off. It’s not often that Tommy is serious, but he was now.

“I want you to be happy, Tubbo. If you feel safer with the Captain than with us, I guess that’s ok. Just don’t forget about me, yeah? I’ll fucking kill ya, bitch,” he admitted.

Tubbo felt incredibly guilty for leaving his best friend, but he wasn’t staying with the Captain for weeks! Maybe just a few days. He said none of those though and settled for a hug. He buried his face into his friend’s neck and felt Tommy clutch at his shirt.

“Thank you, Tommy, for understanding,” he quietly said.

“No problem, Big T.”

They stayed like that until there was knocking at the door. Jordan popped in with an apologetic look.

“Just wanted to check in. Techno is getting antsy and Wilbur looks ready to demonetize something,” he said to the teens.

Tommy and Tubbo got up from their seats and headed to the door when Jordan stopped them. They looked at the man questioningly but he held no malice on his face. Instead, he was looking at them with some form of understanding.

“Tubbo, whenever you want to visit Tommy, just tell me and I’ll make a portal to Phil’s place. I know you’ll miss him,” he said softly.

Tubbo’s eyes widened and he looked towards Tommy with the biggest smile that the blond couldn’t help but smile back. Tubbo tackled Jordan in a hug.

“Thank you, Captain! Thank you so much!” he exclaimed.

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck and stood a bit awkwardly, “Yeah, thanks.”

Jordan smiled. “Of course.”

There was shouting from outside.

“I think Phil is finally here,” Jordan said.

They peeked outside the room and saw Phil hitting Wilbur with his sandal and the desperate attempts to deflect by Wilbur. Techno was cackling while taking screenshots.

Jordan turned to Tommy.

“I think they’re ready to take you home. Take care, kid,” he said as he nudged Tommy towards the group.

Tommy looked towards Tubbo and they shook hands.

“See you in a few, Big T.”

“As always, Tommy.”

They watched as he ran towards Techno and began to take screenshots as well with a growing smile on his face. His signature loud laugh seemed to brighten the area. Tubbo watched fondly for a bit before Jordan’s hand was on his shoulder. He looked up at Jordan who stared at him with a soft smile.

“Let’s go home, Tubbo. M’lady is eager to meet you,” he said. 

Tubbo immediately lit up.

“Does she like bees?! Could you teach me how to do cool magic stuff too?!” he excitedly asked.

Jordan laughed as he made a portal and stepped through with Tubbo.

-----------

There are many rumors surrounding the legendary Captain, but there are a few things for certain.

Even the most kind-hearted people can be cruel, and they can enjoy their own cruelty.

[babbushka]

Someone Like Him

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

2.2k ; No warnings, just a lot of fluff!

                                                     -------------

If there was one thing true more than anything else about all the reasons you loved him, it was that once your husband had his heart set on something, he was going to accomplish it.

You knew this of course, having been by Flip’s side for so long, but sometimes…well some times it was far more evident than others. Sometimes he displayed such a creative streak of ingenuity, that you wondered just what the extent of that quick-thinking capability was, if there was even a limit to it at all.

The house was completely snowed in. A freak blizzard at the end of March rendering all your plans for the evening useless, namely an early showing at the cinema and lunch from your favorite diner, now all closed from the unexpected weather. Some Fridays, Flip liked to take you out on the kind of dates you shared way back in the early days, the days where he was still too shy to ask to hold your hand.

Now though, now you’ve been together for so long that he takes your hand in his own with ease, palms only a little sweaty. He still takes you on these dates, because he’s a sentimental man, but also because he’s a firm believer that that honeymoon phase never has to end. You agreed.

Get dolled up anyway, Flip had said when the two of you woke up to darkened rooms and a muffled soundscape that morning courtesy of 60 inches of snow, Don’t come downstairs, I’ve got an idea.

That had been hours ago, as noon was now quickly approaching. As the morning had progressed, there were all sorts of sounds of scuffling coming from the downstairs spaces. The kitchen clunked and clanged, furniture dragged against the carpeted floors in the living room, and while you were upstairs debating which string of pearls to wear, you could hear him swearing and cursing up a storm.

You offered the occasional, honey are you alright? To which he replied with a hasty, yeah ketsl don’t come down yet!

But now as noon was on the horizon, the usual time that you and Flip would leave the house for a matinee and milkshake, those noises were coming to an end.

In fact, very soon the only noise was that of a knock on the bedroom door.

“Who is it?” You call pretending to be your mother, like you were a teenager again and Flip was picking you up in his dad’s ’58 oldsmobile.

“Philip Zimmerman ma’am, is (Y/N) home?” Flip asks from the other side of the closed door. You could hear the smile in his voice, could hear how pleased he was that you were playing along.

“She might be.” You respond with a cheeky sort of faux-apprehension, as if you might make things difficult for him.

“Might she be free to spend the day with me? I’ll have her home before dark, honest.” Flip sounds nothing like his younger self, his voice far too deep and resonant, far too confident.

But as you brush a final lock of hair into place and you stand from your vanity, opening the door to reveal your handsome husband makes you nearly emotional, memories of those early dates rushing back to your mind as he stands there with a bouqet of flowers he stole from one of the vases in the dining room.

You grin as he hands it to you, stems still a little wet from the water they had been sitting in, and you take them happily, closing the bedroom door behind you, pressing yourself up against him in the hallway.

“You can keep me as long as you’d like.” You whisper, looking up at him through your lashes as you take a sniff of the beautiful tulips he had presented you.

“I know, but it’s only polite.” He leans in to softly kiss your cheek, a chaste kiss that reminds you very much of how he used to be so worried your family would scold him if he did anything more…salacious while they could potentially see.

“What are you planning, Mr. Zimmerman?” You ask, both a playful continuance of this little game of pretend, but also genuine curiosity at what the hell he’d been up to this whole time.

“I promised my girl a movie and a bite to eat, and that’s what I intend to give her.” He offers you his arm, and you waste no time in linking your through it.

 When he leads you down the stairs, your eyebrows shoot up in an impressed excitement. He really was so creative when he needed to be, wasn’t he? You think to yourself as the living room comes into full view.

He had converted it somehow into a movie theater. Flip had rearranged the couches so that there was a free wall, which he had positioned the loveseat in front of so that the two of you could snuggle up and watch something together. The curtains are all closed, not that it does much as snow covers all the windows, making the room nearly pitch black.

Or at least it would be pitch black, if not for the tea-candles that he had lit in a long aisle, to create something like the strips of lighting in theaters that were used to illuminate the rows of seats.

But the most impressive part to you out of all of this, was the proper film projector that was positioned just behind the loveseat.

“Honey where did you get this?” You ask, setting the flowers back down in the vase Flip had taken them from. You’d never seen this in the house before, and you spent all day every day here! How had he managed to hide it from you?

“One of the guys at the station was getting rid of it yesterday right after work because he said it took up too much space, I thought I’d rescue it from a life at the junkyard – it’s in perfect fuckin’ condition can you believe he wanted to dump it?” Flip shakes his head, as he lit a cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke.

The smoke caught in the beams of light from the projector as Flip turned the machine on, and you grinned when you saw that he had figured out the distance for it to perfectly fill the large wall.  

“Sure beats turning on the TV, huh?” You tease, so fond of your husband, fond of the way he can see the potential in everything.

“Look I’ve even got some reels.” Flip hoists up a big metal cannister, before turning to you and presenting you with, “Does the young lady want…Top Hat? Or…Top Hat?”

“Hmm, two tickets for Top Hat please.” You take your time deliberating this very difficult choice, and when you give him your answer Flip nods and hmms in agreement, like you made the right one.

“Alright, that’ll be one kiss.” He informs you, and you frown with mock disappointment.

“Only one?” You pout.

But Flip nods anyway, and he sucks down one more puff of his cigarette before setting the cannister down and pulling you into an embrace. He blows smoke out of his nose like he’s some great dragon, and you wind your arms around his broad shoulders, plucking the Camel out from between his teeth and pulling him down for a kiss by the light of the projector.

Your mouth parts for his tongue easily, happily, and you sigh against his lips when they smile against you. He tastes like nicotine and love, and you almost don’t realize how starved you were for his kisses with him being busy all morning, until you’ve got him in your arms once again.

He caresses you while you breathe against each other, while your lips take their fill of one another. One of his hands smooths down your body and clings to the small of your back, the other cupping the nape of your neck and holding you close close close. You smile, and he smiles, smiles so wide that it’s hard to keep kissing him after a while, because you’re chuckling against his lips and his nose keeps nudging yours slightly from silent shakes of his own happiness.

“Keep the change.” You whisper when you finally pull away, the both of you breathing heavy, your eyes closed as you press your foreheads together.

“Could you pop some popcorn?” Flip asks in the quiet of the living room, making you crack up just from the sudden change in mood, and soon he’s laughing too, explaining, “I didn’t want to set the fuckin’ kitchen on fire.”

“Again.” You wink at him, handing him back his cigarette which he happily takes another drag from as he follows you into the kitchen.

“Watch it ketsl.” He gives your ass a little pat and you shimmy your hips at the stove, putting on the Jiffy Pop.

 When the silver bag has all but nearly burst and the projector is playing the soft image of Ginger Rogers and Frank Sinatra, you and your husband curl up on the loveseat. Occasionally, you reach into the bag at the same time, your fingers brushing up against one another. You playfully fight each other for the popcorn, which ends in Flip gently tossing kernels of the buttered snack into your mouth, occasionally missing your mouth and hitting your face on purpose just to get you laughing.

You’ve seen this movie probably a hundred times, but it was always one you kept coming back to. The quick wit had you laughing, the songs had you humming, and the music, well.

“Dance with me?” You look up with wide hopeful eyes at your husband, when the orchestra strikes up once again as Fred and Ginger launch into a choreography that you could only dream of following one day.

He indulges you with a shake of his head and sigh, and a, “As long as you don’t step on my toes.”

You scoff and roll your eyes dramatically as he offers you a hand which you gladly take, let yourself be pulled against him like a magnet. You waltz around the living room to the tune of Cheek to Cheek, and Flip even twirls you once or twice, making you perfectly pleasantly dizzy.

“I’m not the one in size-13’s.” You teased with a big fond grin, and that seemed to be the proverbial last straw for Flip because suddenly he was attacking your face with chaste kisses, tickling you with his goatee which you had trimmed just the night before.

“You’re terrible to me, you know that?” He shakes his head sternly as he continues to kiss your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your neck, “Awful. Absolutely horrible. The worst. I adore you.”

He catches your lips in his once more, kisses you slowly, deeply, passionately. He keeps kissing you even as the song has come to an end, cups your cheeks in both his hands – mindful of the cigarette clamped between his fingers – and rubs soothing little motions with his thumbs that follow the curve of your eye-socket.

He is so tender with you, so tender always. He’s a big man – 6’3” and sometimes seemingly just as wide – a strong man, a man who could crush your skull with ease if he wanted to. But he never wanted to, never wanted to be anything other than tender with you, and it made your heart so full that you almost could cry.

“Are you thirsty?” He asks, when the kiss ends.

You nod, because yes you are, all that popcorn had turned you parched.

With the movie still playing in the background, Flip brings you to the dining room, where he then retrieves a milkshake in a tall glass from the kitchen. He places it in front of you and sticks in two straws, just the way you always drink it – one for him and one for you. He even covered the whole top with whipped cream and maraschino cherries, just for you.

You watch the movie from the dining room, resting your head on his shoulder in between sips of the shake, holding hands under the table like someone could come in and reprimand you at any moment.

“Flip?” You ask, interrupting the great gondola heist scene.

“Hm?” Flip responds, turning to look at you with soft eyes.

“Thank you.” You bring his hand up for a kiss, a warm soft press of your lips against the scarred back of his palm.

“Anything for my girl.” He says with so much conviction that you believe him, you really really really do.

“Anything?” You say anyway, a little suggestively, suggestively enough that he knows exactly what you mean.

You and Flip simply look at one another for a moment, before he makes the quick decision to run into the living room and turn the projector off. You hurry after him, and he gives you space to go up the stairs first before he follows, pinching and grabbing at you in that playful loving way that only makes you laugh and yelp and get to your bedroom faster.

The snow outside may have canceled your plans for the day and forced you both to stay inside, but it didn’t matter so much. Not when you were stuck inside with someone so wonderful, so loving, so caring, so creative and funny and smart and sarcastic and handsome like him.

                                                      ---------------

Tagging some Flip loving friends! If you’d like to be added to or taken off the taglist, please let me know! 

@dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee @oberynmartell​ @magikevalynn​ @tinyplanet-explorers​ @chelsjnov​ @romancedeldiablo​ @helloimindelaware​ @elfieboxcat​ @laurenshit​ @autumnlovesadam​ @peterisparker​ @mp938368 @hidingp​ @goodboybensolo​ @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic​ @miasera​ @emily-strange​ @proxyfoxy​ @insanita​ @disaster-rose​ @hazydespair​ @yosoymuyloca​ @1-800-choke-that-snoke​​ @ktellmeastory​​ @anongirl007​​ @zimmerxman​​ @okk–maaan​ @flapjacques​​

[bagelbright-tok]

In Passing

An interaction. A single word uttered. Somehow, these simple actions had innocent civilians killed. The horror on The Joestar Group's faces when they see the dead familiar ones on the floor of DIO's mansion.

[Large blocks of italics are past memories/events. Normal blocks of texts are the present.]

This is NOT a reader insert fiction.

Word Count: 1703

Warning(s): Mentions of death, guilt, mentions of decomposing bodies, nude dead bodies, blood, DIO

__

Bystander __

"Ma'am! You dropped this!" Joseph rushed over to the middle aged lady, waving a wallet around.

She turned around to face him, surprised by his shouting. "Oh? Oh! Oh dear! Thank you, sir!"

She thanked him for returning her wallet, and left.

Joseph never got her name.

· · ·

"Are you sun-tanning in that uniform?" A feminine voice interrupted Kakyoin's peace and silence.

Her shadow blocked the sun, and caused the redhead to open his eyes and look at the lady who was only three years older than him. She wasn't mean. In fact, she had a slight smile on her face.

Kakyoin sat up. "Yeah. What's it to you?"

"Just curious, is all." She shrugged and sat in the chair nearby. "That uniform. It's a gakuran, right? Japanese?"

Kakyoin was surprised to meet someone who could identify his outfit. "Oh.. Yeah, it is.."

Not only are Stands a power. Knowledge is power. "My name's Lillian."

The worst part was getting her name.

· · ·

"..."

"..."

It was the absolute silence between them that had them interested. In a silent, small, library in the hospital, Avdol sat across from another man. The both of them were obviously recovering patients. Able to wear some of their outfit, but still in some sort of gown. Avdol had bandages around his neck. This man had bandages around his arms, some on his face, and a brace on his right leg. Crutches were nearby the man.

Avdol couldn't help but look up at the man in curiosity. How could such a calm and silent man have been in such an accident? Perhaps this man was thinking the same of Avdol. Whenever Avdol looked down, the man looked up from his book. At some point, they made eye contact. The simple gesture of waving made them return to their books.

They hadn't even uttered a word.

· · ·

"Hey, watch where you're going!" Polnareff hollered at the man who had bumped into him.

He was just trying to enjoy the walk when this man had seriously pooped the party.

"Me? Watch where you are going!" The man yelled back.

And just like that, they were at each other's throats. Like two dogs fighting for a piece of meat. Except, they weren't fighting for anything. It wasn't until they actually bumped heads and fell backwards that they realized how ridiculous the situation was. On the ground, they looked at each other with processing eyes.

Then they started laughing. Genuine laughter at how absurd the situation was. "Man, I am so sorry for bumping into you!" The man got up and went to Polnareff to help him out.

"No, no! I was overreacting. No one is at fault here!" Polnareff accepted the man's helping hand and stood up.

"Darian Kline. Nice to meet you."

"Jean-Pierre Polnareff. Nice to meet you too, Darian." They hadn't just met each other. They spent the rest of the day walking and chatting. Having laughs.

He had gotten a friend that day.

· · ·

"Please, sir! Please help!" A lady had come bolting down the nearly empty street towards Jotaro.

The teen was ready for a fight. He didn't know who to trust. However, he quickly realized he wasn't under attack. He summoned his Stand, but the lady paid no mind to it, and even ran through it without batting an eye.

"Hm?" Jotaro grunted curiously.

"God! My ex and his friends are chasing after me. Please, just play my friend or boyfriend! I just need protection!" She pleaded to him, hands together.

"C'mon babe! We're just messing around! You know us! We just wanna have some fun." His tone was sinister and it was obvious his intentions were anything but fun.

The lady looked back at where the voice was coming from. Along with the voice were other tones of laughter. She looked back at Jotaro with desperate eyes. Jotaro looked back down at her and simply nodded. The lady was relieved beyond description. She twirled around Jotaro, now sticking to his backside. Her ex and his friends had come around, jogging a bit. They quickly stopped though at the unexpected sight of Jotaro. The 17 year old that looked 35. His built and tall form was intimidating enough. But his glare and very being wanted to send the gang running.

"Whoa, whoa! Hey big guy! I'm just trying to help my girlfriend." The ex stepped forward, trying to explain his lie to Jotaro. "She's having a mental break." He twirled his finger around his head, indicating that the lady may be crazy.

"Your girlfriend?" Jotaro asked. "Last I checked, she was mine."

The man's uneven smile dropped. He was in deep shit now. The game of the mind. Who had the better lies.

"Oh yeah?" His drunken smirk reappeared. "What's her name?" He asked tauntingly.

Jotaro had to pause for a moment. She never mentioned it. "Laura… Laura… Laura.." The lady- Laura- whispered quietly under her breath. Jotaro could only hear it because of Star Platinum.

With the most confidence a man could give, Jotaro responded. "Laura." He took a step forward. "Now what do you want with her? Hm?"

The men were now scared shitless. "N-nothing! We were just- uh- you know-" The men took off running without finishing their explanation.

The lady chuckled with relief. She moved from Jotaro's back to his front. "Thank you so much! I really owe you one."

"It's no problem.." Jotaro's monotone voice echoed through the night.

"It's a big deal for me. If you ever want, you can go to the bar nearby, "Pane." I work there and you can get a drink on the house!" She happily explained to Jotaro.

An invitation he couldn't deny. Jotaro nodded. "Good grief, lady. Alright. I'll go sometime." He pulled his hat down and didn't bother to watch the lady walk past him.

In the end, he didn't even save her.

· · ·

"Whoa. Weird lookin' dog." A kid spoke, not a metre away from Iggy. "Do you have a home, doggy?"

Iggy growled at the kid and tried to walk away. The kid followed. Iggy barked at the kid, trying to tell him; "Hey! Fuck off!"

The kid didn't understand though. Luckily enough for Iggy, the mother of the kid was nearby and stopped the child from reaching Iggy. "No Ezra! The dog probably has fleas. I don't want you getting sick because of a stray mutt on the street."

Iggy growled under his breath, "Bitch."

Not even they deserved it.

· · ·

The Crusaders entered the mansion. It was dark, barely lit by the candle light in the rooms. A few steps in, and there was a horrifying stench. It smelled of rot and iron. Not even Iggy could handle it. It didn't click until they reached a room completely full of candles. On the floor were several dead bodies. Some had dried blood pooled around them. Some of them lacked blood and looked like raisins. Most of them lacked clothes. The fact they had walked into a room of dead bodies was bad. What made it worse was who the dead bodies were.

The middle aged lady whom Joseph returned her wallet to. They didn't talk for more than a minute. Joseph never got her name. He barely recognized her face. Still, the thought of just having interacted with her being the reason she was dead, was terrifying.

Lillian. The woman who was only three years older than Kakyoin and Jotaro. Her blood was sucked dry and the look of fright was glued to her face. She and Kakyoin talked for several minutes. He had her name. He knew her face. He thought he made a friend. Now she was gone and Kakyoin was dumbfounded. The dread already coursing through his body was obvious.

The man whom Avdol had waved at. They never spoke. They barely looked at each other. They only waved in the library. The anguish already washing over Avdol was immense. This man's naked dead body was in DIO's mansion because of Avdol. This man was removed of his blood. Stripped of his very life for waving at Avdol.

Darian Kline. Polnareff's newly acquired friend. Dead. He was on the floor with dried blood around him. He looked mangled, like he'd been seriously beaten. It was disgusting. The way he died. The reason he was dead in the first place. It was just a silly incident. A small event of happenstance and realization. Polnareff was supposed to talk to this man after defeating DIO. The only reason that wouldn't have happened, is if Polnareff died, not this innocent man.

Laura. A simple bartender who needed help getting away from her ex. Jotaro thought he helped her. Never in his dreams would he have thought that this act would have killed her. If he had known, what would he have done? What could he have done? This lady who was just trying to survive in God's cruel world was now dead in this room. Naked, abused, and used. Her blood was gone, whatever remaining being small drops dried to the ground. Jotaro wanted to vomit. It felt like he'd been hit with a freight train. He wanted this feeling to end. He looked away. But it didn't go away.

Iggy was frustrated. Why go for two insignificant people that barely crossed his path? A kid and their mother. The kid having just been killed and tossed aside. The mother having been drained of her blood. They'd done nothing to deserve DIO's wrath. Done nothing but mistake Iggy for a normal dog. It was infuriating.

The guilt flowing through everyone was radiating. The idea of wanting to cry not sounding half bad. Bystanders. People who interacted in passing. Did nothing but acknowledge the crusaders. Had a small chat. Gave a name. Never gave a name. Became friends. Offered a drink. Waved. None of them were Stand users. None of the Crusaders considered these innocent people as aids in their adventure.

Despite it, DIO saw them as enemies just for interacting with the Joestar group. And for that, they were punished with the curse of death. Forever lasting. Never ending.

---

E N D A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one! It has been ready for weeks now, I just hadn't the time to actually post it. To you who has requested, I am working on it! Thank you for requesting, hopefully I will have it out within the next few weeks! Apologies if this looks wonky, I used the beta mode on Tumblr for this one.

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets III

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (Slow Burn)

A/n: N/a

•••

How were you supposed to explain the real reason you wanted to help Jonathan? How were you supposed to say that, yes, you would be helping anyway, even if you didn’t have such a connection to what was happening. 

You were terrified, because what if whatever got you here, is the reason Will went missing? If something bad happened to him- 

No, you couldn’t think like that. That’s what caused anxiety to spike. Thinking too much. You couldn’t do that, you’d have a panic attack, and have to ask Jonathan to pull over so you could fall out of the car onto the side of the road while struggling to find the correct breathing pattern you’d been taught by your friends, one that your dad helped you with every time they saw that you were close to that point. 

“Where do you want to be dropped off?” Jonathan asked quietly, turning down the music which was already low so you could hear him. 

“Oh um… The motel. On Brawford.” You said equally as quietly as Jonathan had asked. But this was all too close to home. You were supposed to be going on the seventh grade field trip to the bowling alley with your little brother in April, and it was supposed to be exciting, With just enough money to go on a road trip through Hawkins, with your dads, and your little brother. But now you were here, and your dads were left in Hawkins, probably also carrying around missing person posters of you face on them. You wondered what picture they used, how they spoke of you. How broken up your dad had to be. 

Dad had been the one to take off work after they had you, he showed up to every school event, took you back to school shopping, and when you hit puberty, no matter how awkward it had to have been, he took you to get a training bra. It was clear that your dad was the one more attached to you than pa. You knew they both loved you, but you were your dad’s baby. He nearly had a breakdown when they couldn’t find you after school one day, announcing over the P.A system for you to go to the front to get picked up because it was lunch, but you hadn’t heard it. 

He was always anxious that something terrible would happen to you.

“You’re in the motel? I thought you were emancipated? That’s the word around school anyway.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’m just a kid who’s living in a motel cause I have no where else to go, so please, just take me back to my motel room.” 

He listened, driving you to the motel, where in the parking lot you could see a familiar face, waiting by the trunk of his car, holding a thin book in hand. “Harrington knows you’re staying here?” He questioned, pulling into the parking lot. 

“He’s not supposed to.” you breathed, reaching into the back seat, grabbing his shoulder bag. Pulling out a short stack of posters from the minimum of a hundred he had in the bag. “I’ll take these.” You pulled a pen out of the bag, ripping a corner off of one of the posters, and writing the number of the rotary phone you had in the motel room and handing the corner of the paper to Jonathan. “If you need help, call me. I’m serious.” 

With that, you got out of the car, holding the stack of posters, intending on putting them up, and walking a few steps over to the BMW while Jonathan drove out of the parking lot and down the street. 

“Your Majesty?” 

Steve scoffed a bit, a smile on his face as he crossed his arms, holding what you could now tell was a black notebook, an angry red pen attached to the cover. He held it out to you, and you noticed the scribbles of ‘math’ on the front and back. 

“Mrs. Jensen said to stop writing in red pen.” It was in an amused tone while you took the notebook and held it to you, putting the posters on top of the cover. He saw the papers and with curiosity, tilted down the notebook so it was parallel with the ground, letting the papers be within his eyesight. “You’re helping Jonathan? I thought that was about your project?”

You sighed a bit, pulling the notebook back, and shaking your head. Sometimes Steve didn’t understand anything. His lack of true social skills are lacking. He could be empathetic, and sympathetic, he could be kind, but you weren’t blind to the fact that he could be insensitive at times as well. 

“His brother’s missing, Steven.” You used his full first name which made him shift uncomfortably. “No one at school is in his corner. Someone needs to tell him he’s not alone. And Will needs to come home.” 

“He’s a bit weird, don’t you think? I mean, I’ve known him since we were in preschool, he’s odd-”

“Jonathan’s socially awkward, I wish people would actually understand that, also, his brother’s missing. I’d help if you went missing, begrudgingly.” 

Steve shook his head, chuckling. “You know, every once in a while, I think you’re okay, and then you say stuff like that. and it hurts.” He mocked, pointing to his chest. “Right here.” 

It got a genuine laugh out of you. Your Pa did similar things to mock you, and you always found it funny when others tried to do it, because they didn’t know she was better at it. 

“Oh, am I, an interloper in this town, warming up your cold, frostbitten heart, King Steven of the house Harrington?” 

His shoulders dropped a bit as he looked at you, he looked defeated. He hated when you called him any of those, but he looked down right exasperated when you said all of it in one go. 

“Okay, you win.”

You smiled and nodded. “I knew I would. How did you find out I lived here?” You asked quietly, a smile fading as you looked up at him, walking over to be next to him, setting the notebook and posters down on the top of the trunk and hefting yourself up to sit on it.

No one knew you’d been living in the motel ever since you ‘came to town’ you always tried to get out of telling people. Putting down the P.O box address you’d gotten at the post office so not even the school administration would know. 

“Nance said she saw you coming here a few days ago.” He spoke as if it was nothing, just something that was normal for her own personal business being seen and then spread to a guy she barely knew yet still considered a friend. 

Before you could respond he’d moved to the driver’s side and opened the door, pulling a bag out from the passenger seat. The Radio Shack logo on it. “What is that?”

Steve gave a shrug, handing the bag to you when he’d gotten back. You had instantly looked in it, only to find the packaging for a Walkman, and many cases of cassette tapes. 

“Steve-”

“Don’t, you do this every time I try to do something nice for you-”

“Oh yeah? Like what, buying me lunch the time I didn’t have money? I didn’t want you to, but I told I would pay you back, eventually… now I owe you like 50 billion dollars.” You chuckled a bit, the real reason for you even being here slipping from your mind for now.

You knew that Walkmans used to be expensive, and you knew he’d offered, but you thought it was a joke, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. 

“No. I’m not gonna accept your money. Go enjoy your music. Consider it a housewarming gift.” He teased, giving your shoulder a gentle shove while you pulled out a Queen cassette. 

“Okay, but I’m gonna sneak you your money somehow, go have fun at your party asshole.”

•••

You’d been sleeping soundly for the first time in months, having fallen asleep with the headphones of the cassette player on, Blondie playing softly into your ears, no memorable dreams occurring, just such a good time sleeping that the folds of your pillow left soft marks on your face. But something had woken you up in the late night, maybe early morning. 

The lamp beside your bed flickered. The paranoia makes you pull your head up from the pillow, vision blurry from sleep watching as the light disappeared, leaving in mostly darkness. A small sliver of moonlight being allowed in from the window whose drapes you hadn’t pulled closed. 

A mumble about needing to go to the motel closer to the school being uttered as you flopped onto the other side of the bed, hugging the pillow to your head before you saw a flash of red through your closed eyelids. The kind you get when light is shining on the thin layer of skin. 

Suddenly, all sleep was gone from you and you were sitting up, staring at the lamp. You tried to be rational, say it was just because the power outage a few days ago. It had to be aftershocks, right?

 But you were sure aftershocks didn’t happen two times in a row. But when the bathroom light quickly flicked on, the sound of electricity going through the room. You were sure aftershocks didn’t happen three times in a row.

Carefully, as thought you were five, and were going to get caught for getting out of bed, you pushed the blankets off of your body, and slowly slid off the too tall of a bed. You were going to take a step towards the light switch for the overhead but it turned on itself. 

The feeling of being on a never ending drop on a rollercoaster came, settling deep down in the pit of your stomach, while you stared at the overhead, watching as it dimmed and got brighter for a few seconds before it flipped off again. 

A shiver ran up your spine making you shiver and make a low and uncomfortable ‘ah’ noise, taking quick and quiet strides to the switch, turning on the overhead light for good, but that feeling was still there. 

But a loud ring made you jump back, and into the wall, the switch digging into your back for a split second, making you give a low cry of pain, quickly getting away from it, a hand coming to rub the now sensitive spot through the old and stained MCR t-shirt you’d come to 1983 in. 

But that was all it was. A small ring that left you terrified and standing in the middle of the room.

•••

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers​ @songofcosplay @jxnehxpper​

[alison-anonymous]

♡ second chances ♡ lou

Second Chances ♡ Lou Imagine

Requested: nope, but Lou is the Crush of the Week and I couldn’t NOT write something about him when I got some free time ;) 

Warnings: crappiness, I’m sorry if this is bad, I promise there will be more, better plotlines! 

Background Info: this takes place after the whole gauntlet and the fixed portal scenes. You arrived to Perfection not long before the Uglydolls, and Lou had taken an extreme liking to you. He gave you extra special attention in his attempts to court you, infuriating many other dolls, but once he revealed his true intentions, you had to set your feelings aside. After Imperfectionville happened and everyone was working merrily along, an accidental run-in with Lou who is now a local janitor and a seemingly innocent sleepover with the girls, you start to wonder if a second chance is in need.

♡♡♡ 

       If your life had ever been crazier than it was now in Imperfectionville, you’d need a recap on your story. Not to say that you hated Imperfectionville, because you honestly loved it even more than you had loved Perfection. Of course, the management was a bit loose and the ideas ran a bit backwards at times, but it was unique and everyone was happy. Not only that, but your dream had finally come true of getting to become a [insert dream job here]! Your friend group broadened a bit, but you were still close to the same dolls as before, though you didn’t get to see them at times as they were often with their kids.

       But even though Imperfection was amazing, there were still some things you missed from Perfection. For one, the management and the housing arrangements were flawless. And the training was sort of fun with the promise of a kid who would love you unconditionally at the end. But, even though you would never admit it out loud, you missed Lou the most. Back when you were fresh meat to Perfection, Lou had taken an instant liking to you. You were... different than the other dolls. And no, it wasn’t just because you nearly broke his scanner. He had made many countless attempts at winning you over, but when his intentions were finally revealed about the Uglydolls, you pushed your growing feelings for him aside and joined Mandy and the others. But you’ll never forget that moment when they were all trying to decide if they should rip out his stuffing or send him to the recycling and you had finally pleaded to Moxy, “Please don’t hurt him.” 

       The oversized eyes around the area were filled with shock, but none more shocked than Lou’s as he dangled in the robo-dog’s mouth. So, they choose to just put him through the wash. And now, he was a janitor. Or so you were told. After that day, you hadn’t seen Lou at all, and if you were completely honest, you kind of missed him. During the time you spent with him, which was a lot as he was always trying to be around you, he was actually really... sweet. Behind the narcissism and all. 

       But you had a new life now, and a decently stressful one at that. You didn’t have time to wallow in the past! But then one day came around that would change everything...

♡♡♡ 

       You were running late. Again. Or in Imperfection was late considered early? You had no idea. All you knew was that you had forgotten to put on your watch and your bag was flapping in the wind behind you as you sprinted through the town to your job, trying not to miss a single friendly greeting pulled out to you. It was only when you ran into the Spy Girls and Mandy that you had to stop.

      “There you are, N/n! What’s the rush?” Mandy asked, pushing her glasses up on her nose. You panted, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to fix the wind-styling that had been put in place.

       “I’m running late, AGAIN. I swear that Peggy forgot my house this morning,” you sighed. The four girls offered you apologetic smiles.

       “Well, if it’s any consolation, we’re still on for our sleepover tonight, right? Your place this time?” Kitty asked, applying a tube of red lip gloss to her lips. The plans had completely slipped your mind, but you quickly played it off with a swift nod.

       “Yes, of course, wouldn’t miss it! I love you all, but I really have to get going,” you smiled at them, beginning to walk backwards. They nodded in understanding and gave you Good Luck wishes as you resumed your race against time. You were making impeccable progress through the throng when you took a sharp left turn down a less crowded street. It was a bit shadier than it was in the sun, and thanks to that you didn’t notice the bucket of soapy water in front of your legs. Your boot connected with it and hooked over the rung, causing not only you to practically faceplant into the ground with a shriek, but also to cause the bucket to spill all over the ground. Thankfully, the water swished away from you, but that didn’t stop the large clattering sound that came with the accident.

       You winced at the impact and embarrassment of the fall as you propped yourself up onto your elbows, blowing the stray strand of your h/c hair that had fallen into your face. Behind you, you heard the surprised tone of male speak up in the silence. 

       “Well, looks like my job has been done for me.” The male chuckled slightly as you quickly pulled yourself up to your feet, dusting off your skirt and turning around, eyes still trained on the floor.

       “I am so, so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You began to spew out apologies rapid fire until your eyes slowly rested upon a dazzling blue pair. A shocked silence filled the air as the two of you simply stared at one another. 

       “Y/n?” Lou finally breathed. 

       “H-hey, Lou,” you chuckled, not being able to suppress the contagious smile on your lips. He grinned back, and it wasn’t that smirk he used to always wear in Perfection. This one was more genuine. His blue eyes glittered with excitement and slight awe as he took you in. You felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks as his eyes swept over you. 

       “Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you. You look...” he glanced down at the ground for a moment, before looking back up at you in curiosity. “Amazing.” 

       The redness only deepened in your cheeks at his comment. “Thanks,” You smiled, looking him over in return. He still wore a suit, only the tie looked a little uneven and his shoes were tainted, probably from all the mopping he had to have been doing. His eyes looked a bit tired, and his hair looked very unkept compared to how it used to be. But just the sight of him before you and the fact that he was talking to you made your heart pound and your knees go weak. 

       “You look pretty good yourself,” you attempted. But he could practically read your mind as he rolled his handsome blue eyes and cast them towards the main road that were coated in citizens.

       “You don’t need to lie, sweetheart. I know I look like crap, it’s a crap job I have now thanks to them. These people are disgusting,” he scrunched up his nose, causing you to giggle. A small, flirtatious smirk that you knew all too well formed on his lips as he looked back at you. “But I suppose I have you to thank for saving me from the recycling, huh?”

       You dropped your e/c eyes to the ground and scoffed lightly. “Come on, Lou. You know I’d never let them hurt you.” 

       “Oh, I know,” he took a daring step towards you, causing your heart rate to pick up as he watched you with curious eyes. “Besides, they’re probably too busy with their kids now. Hey... why aren’t you with yours?”

       True confusion flashed across his features as you stared at him, trying to figure out how best to tell him the truth. Or you could lie, your mind suggested. But with just one look at his face, and the thousands of feelings that came with it, you knew that wasn’t an option. 

       “I... don’t have one.”

       He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

       “I... I never went through the portal.” You sighed heavily through your nose and looked back down at the ground, feeling the heaviness fall back onto your shoulders. Lou’s eyes widened for a moment, before he asked “why?” in a very soothing tone, sensing your downcast feelings.

       “...I was afraid. No, more like am afraid that whatever kid I get won’t love me... because I’m different. I’m afraid that they’ll throw me away...” Suddenly, you noticed how crazy all of this was. “I’m sorry, Lou, we literally just bumped into each other and here I am emoting all over you. I’m sorry, you’re just insanely easy to talk to and-”

       “Y/n,” Lou interjected, leaning in closer, his expression calm. He gently brushed a loose strand of your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, sending your stomach into somersaults. “I find it hard to believe that someone couldn’t love a doll as perfect as you.”

       Your heart nearly stopped in your stuffing filled chest. God, being this close to him woke up so many feelings.. you couldn’t help but wonder if he still felt the same... Your cheeks tinted red again, causing him to smirk. He was always happy when he was able to make you flustered. 

       “T-Thanks, Lou,” you stuttered. The two of you stared at one another for quite some time before you finally remembered-

       “Holy crap, I am so late, I have to go! Thank you so much, Lou, come find me sometime okay?” You rambled before you even knew what you were saying, scurrying in the direction of your work. Lou chuckled to himself, but nodded his head nevertheless as he watched your figure fade from his view. 

♡♡♡ 

       Later that night, you sat in a circle with Kitty, Tuesday, Lydia, Mandy, Moxy, and Wage (who Moxy had to practically bribe to come) in your living room. You had already gone through the typical sleepover routines, and up next on the list was to spill some gossip while you styled each other’s hair. While Lydia worked on yours, Kitty did Tuesday’s, and Moxy worked on Mandy’s, you all began to trade in some bits of information that was especially juicy, like who UglyDog’s next love target would be and if Ox had a secret lover he never told anyone about. It wasn’t too long that the question rolled around...

       “Hey, N/n, I don’t think we’ve ever really talked about this. Who do you like?” 

       Thousands of images of Lou flashed through your mind, but embarrassment won over. You glanced nervously around the room at all of the expectant eyes, and let out a choked giggle. “U-umm... a boy?”

       “Nuh uh,” Tuesday smirked.

       “We’re gonna need a name,” Moxy giggled from behind Mandy’s head. You heaved a sigh, and began to mess with the hem of your PJs, trying to decide if you should tell the truth or just lie. How would they react to knowing you had a thing for the former leader of Perfection who also attempted to murder two of your best friends?

       “Alright, here,” Mandy sent you a welcoming smile. “I think Nolan is kind of cute. Moxy?” 

       “Lucky Bat,” She shrugged, and continued her work. The girls went around the room until the spotlight was finally on you once more. It seemed as if though even the fan went silent to listen to what you were about to say. 

       “I may have a slight... soft spot for... Lou.” You couldn’t help the dreamy tone that took over your voice at his name, but it almost didn’t matter from the squeals and giggles that filled the room. 

        “OH MY GOD I CALLED IT!” Lydia cried.

        “No way, I did!” Tuesday protested. 

        “You two would be great together,” Mandy winked.

        “Didn’t you two have a thing going on back in Perfection? I’m pretty sure he was like totally in love with you and he probably still is,” Kitty smirked.

        You felt your cheeks turn red from the sudden attention. “Yeah, he was courting me... I actually ran into him today and-” 

        “OH MY GOD IT’S FATE!” Lydia screamed. 

        “You should ask him out!” Moxy cried, resting her arms on top of Mandy’s hair. 

        “...you think?” You asked softly. “What if he doesn’t like me anymore?” 

        “Only one way to find out,” Kitty shrugged. Ask him out, you already knew the answer. And as you sat there listening to the intense chatter about a future marriage around you, you began to think... 

        Everyone deserves a second chance. 

♡ a.a.

[wingsofkpop]

Finding SKZ - 4: HH00

pairing(s): Hybrid!Bang Chan x Reader, Hybrid!SKZ x Reader

genre: Hybrid!AU, Dystopian!AU, heavy Angst, pinch of Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, violence, blood and gore, possible triggering topics

word count: 6,4k

synopsis: After rescuing an abandoned hybrid from his fate of death, he has one other favor to ask of you. Not only do you have to find his eight other hybrid brothers, but you have to keep them safe from the deadly dangers of your city: Miroh

chapter directory

The cold air dissipates as you enter through the doors of your apartment building. You release a sigh at the change of temperature, adjusting the strap of your bag to lay more comfortably on your shoulder. Not really in the mood to strike up a conversation, you quickly dart past the evening security guard talking to one of your neighbors on your floor. Unfortunately, just as you were about to reach the elevator button, your name is called: 

“Oh, (Y/N)!” 

You curse under your breath, muster as best of a smile as you can and turn to face the elderly woman. A bright grin was across her wrinkled face, and for a second, her expression reminded you of a recent horror movie you saw. You can’t remember the name, but it did have some sort of demonic old lady that went around trying to eat her grandkids. 

You hum, trying to distract yourself from the image in your head, “Hi, Ms. Friel. I was just-” 

“-Sweetheart, how many times have I told you to just call me Paula?” Ms. Friel chuckles and shakes her head, “Ms. Friel was my mother. Bless her soul.” 

Awkward. 

“Right, sorry.” You take a quick peek at the clock mounted above the security guard’s desk. With a weak smile, you continue, “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I-” 

“-I just wanted to talk to you for a moment, dear. This won’t take long.” 

You really wish you had it in you to deny her request, but you couldn’t. Curse your mother for raising you to respect the elderly. 

You nod, “Of course. What is it?” 

“Well, I just wanted to ask you if someone else has been staying in your apartment recently.” The older woman tilts her head to the side. Her icy stare pierces straight through you, almost as if she can see the dark secrets you’re keeping to yourself. “I’ve been hearing noises. Even when you’re away.” 

You were afraid of this. Ms. Friel has always been all up in your business ever since the day you moved in. When you were still together, you had given your ex-boyfriend a key so he wouldn’t have to wait outside your apartment whenever your classes ran late. The first time he used it, Ms. Friel called the cops on him, when you specifically told her your boyfriend was allowed in your apartment. She claimed she thought he was a thief and was just looking out for you. You know she was actually looking out for herself though. 

All the more reason not to tell her you’re currently housing three hybrids. With more coming. 

You shrug, “It’s just my friend. His dorm is getting renovated so he’ll be staying with me until it’s done.” 

Ms. Friel hums, “Oh, I see. Does he ever leave the apartment? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him leave.” 

“You’ve probably just missed him the last few times,” You laugh awkwardly, nearly leaping in delight as the elevator doors open with a ding. A few others file out while you push your way in and feverishly press the button for your floor. You throw your neighbor one last smile, “Sorry, I have some work I really need to finish. It was good to see you.” 

Thankfully, the doors close before she can reply and you’re free to sink back against the metal wall with a sigh of relief. You lift a hand to brush back your hair while simultaneously thanking the gods for saving you from that situation. The last thing you need is your neighbor to go snooping around your apartment and find something she’s not supposed to. You should still warn the boys though. 

When the doors swoosh open again, you waste no time in making a mad dash for your apartment. Usually, the days where you have both class and work are bearable. But today just sucked. Your professor was in the worst mood so now you not only have your final next week, but you have to turn in a research project on a topic you barely know anything about. On top of that, two of your coworkers are sick, or “sick”, and your boss needs you to work a double shift both Saturday and Sunday which your workload really cannot afford right now. 

Chan and you were also supposed to go hunting for Felix, who you may have a possible lead on. It’s not for sure though. It really surprising how many hybrids in Miroh are called Lee Felix. 

As soon as you push open your apartment door, the aroma of something cooking has your mouth watering. You never got the chance to eat anything other than a granola bar this morning and a bag of pretzels during your lunch break, so you were pretty hungry. Whatever Chan was making really wasn’t helping the your stomach’s anger. 

After taking off your coat and shoes, you wander into the living room where you find Woojin sat watching some movie on Netflix. He turns at your presence and a warm smile lifts to his lips, “Hi, (Y/N). I’m glad you’re home.” 

At his kind words, the hardships of your day seem to melt away. You return his with a genuine smile of your own and answer, “Thank you, Woojin. Trust me, I am too.” 

“Hard day?” 

“A little. But it’s over now.” You allow your body to sink into the sofa with a sigh and lay your head on Woojin’s lap. The hybrid chuckles, his ears bouncing with his laughter, as he places a gentle hand on the top of your head. Your eyes flutter shut at the soothing touch. Exhaustion finally beginning to take its toll on you and you were truly tempted to surrender to it, but a familiar voice has your eyelids parting again: 

“We missed you, you know.” Chan stands in the kitchen door with a soft smile across his face. Four mugs, likely filled with his special ramen recipe, were balanced on his muscular arms. The smell has your tummy rumbling again which the hybrid caught. He rushes over to where you’re laid down and offers one of the cups, “Here. I can tell you haven’t eaten all day.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, “How do you-?” 

“-Because I know you.” 

An foreign silence arises in the space between you and the wolf hybrid. Shocked, you dumbly take the food and mutter a quick thanks, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight blush spreading across your cheeks. You sit up and begin to delve into the soup, the liquid slipping down your throat and settling in your aching stomach like a dream. Woojin also starts to eat while Chan calls for Seungmin, who emerges from the bedroom with your laptop in his hands along with a bright grin across his face. 

“I think I found Hyunjin.” Your spoon clatters against the mug as you drop your utensil out of surprise. The older hybrids were no better with Chan staring wide-eyed at the youngster and Woojin trying not to choke on his mouthful of noodles. Chan shakes his head, “W-What do you mean?” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes, “What do you think I mean? I found Hyunjin.” 

“Like actually?” You ask, forgetting all about your appetite and setting the ramen aside. “What did you find?” 

The three of you watch as Seungmin settles himself on the chair beside the couch and places the laptop on the coffee table in front of you and Woojin. He fiddles with the mouse pad, giving Chan the time to take the seat next to you, and turns the screen to face your direction. 

The page was pulled up to an Instagram about some sort of hybrid entertainment program. There was only so much you could see, but you could tell this “show” was pretty popular. There were over one thousand followers following whatever this was. Then again, you didn’t like how shady some of the posts seemed. 

Woojin speaks first, “I don’t understand. What is this? Why would these people have Hyunjin?” 

You turn to Seungmin to receive an answer, only to find that his face had grown much more paler. Panic moves in the depths of your gut, and just when you were about to inquire about his silence, Chan beats you to it: 

“I’ve seen this before. It’s a hybrid fighting ring.” Your panic shifts in nausea as you turn to peer at the hybrid with an incredulous look. He meets your gaze and nods toward the laptop, “Look at one of the videos.”

Balanced on the edge between curiosity and confusion, you do as Chan suggests and slide onto the floor to pull up the most recent video posted on the account. Almost immediately, shouts and cheers spills through the speakers of the computer and you almost debated turning down the volume. But your focus is snatched by the situation taking place in the video. 

Horrified, you watch what seems to be a pitbull hybrid lunge for a bloody cat hybrid. He knocks him to the ground with a powerful leap and proceeds to lay punch after punch on his already marred face. The feline collapses to the ground, his face already beginning to swell after the violent attack. Victorious, the pitbull climbs to his feet and flashes the crowd a bloody smile and winning pose. The video tries to play again, but you’re quick to stop it again. Once was enough, maybe too much. 

“Wow.” Woojin’s whisper awakens you from your trance, and you turn to see him with a faraway look on his face. Chan reaches over to place a gentle pat on the older hybrid’s shoulder before leaning over to put a comforting arm around his shoulder. Woojin shakes his head, “After the circus, I didn’t think it could get any worse…”

You try to overlook the stone forming in the back of your throat and instead turn to Seungmin, “So what about Hyunjin?” 

Seungmin gulps, “W-well, he’s considered the “runt” of the ring…” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means they use him for easy wins.” Chan sighs, still in the process of comforting his blank-faced brother. He glances at you with sad eyes and continues, “Basically a person who’s looking to make quick cash from a fight will put their hybrid against him, the weakest fighter, and is destined to win.” 

“But that’s horrible,” You scoff, suddenly disgusted at the realization of why this Instagram is so popular. “This whole thing is horrible.” 

“Humans are horrible.” Seungmin pipes up, but quickly waves a dismissive hand toward you, “All except you, noona, of course.”

Chan sends you a weak smile, “It’s like you said, (Y/N). Miroh is dangerous for hybrids. Always has been.” 

And it always will be. “We should come up with a plan and get Hyunjin out of there as fast as possible, who knows what he’s been through at this point…” You trail off, gazing at the laptop screen with a sullen expression. First Chan, then Seungmin, then Woojin… How much worse could this get? 

Seungmin chuckles, “Way ahead of you, noona.” 

The beagle hybrid steals the device again to feverishly search for something else. After a couple seconds, he turns it back around and points to the screen, “They have a fight scheduled for this Friday at midnight. All we have to do is show up.”

Briefly skimming through the information, you shake your head, “Maybe, but we still need to figure out how we’re going to get Hyunjin out. Then again, our plan last time didn’t really go as planned.” 

Ouch. Through the corner of your eye, you can see the guilt spread across Chan’s place. You felt ashamed for saying it, but even so, you’re not really wrong. This time, you need to be careful and have some sort of order of operations. 

Hyunjin’s life depends on it. 

~~*~~**~~*~~

“How much, again?” 

“$50.” At the taxi driver’s answer, you pull out two twenties and a ten from your wallet and hand them over. Your driver accepts the money, types something onto his credit machine that prints out a receipt and hands it back to you. With a final goodbye, you join the two other hybrids outside the car. 

Chan looks up from your phone, “Everything okay?” 

You nod, “Yeah. All good.” 

“Good.” The hybrid turns back to the device and speaks into it, “Seungmin, that’s your queue. Show us the way.” 

After a lot of arguing, Woojin and Chan found it best that Seungmin remain back in your apartment for this mission. The beagle was less than happy with the decision and even went as far as trying to convince you to change his brothers’ minds, but Chan wouldn’t budge on this one. Though, after what happened last time, you really can’t blame him. Anything could happen. Anything dangerous, that is. 

“Right,” Seungmin’s voice is a bit shaky over the line, meaning that your phone probably wasn’t getting the best signal. “You guys are gonna head straight down this street and make a left into an alleyway just before you pass the barber shop.” 

“Thanks, Min. We’ll keep you on the line as long as we can. (Y/N)’s phone may lose signal.” 

A sigh emerges over the call, “Don’t worry about me. Just find Hyunjin and bring him home.” 

Woojin replies, “We will, no doubt. We’ll be back before you know it.” 

“Sure, hyung. Be careful.” 

And with that, Chan, Woojin and you make your way down the dim, barren street. The place where you’re hoping to find Hyunjin is quite literally, the worst part of Miroh you’ve ever stepped foot in. Rundown buildings on streets with very few lamps. Lewd and inappropriate graffiti plastered on every available surface. Shops with boarded up windows and indestructible, metal doors. Everything screams shady. 

These parts of town are what people usually call “The Forgotten.” Basically, after WWIII, when these parts of the city were destroyed in bomb raids and warfare, the new government never invested any money into fixing them back up. Only unemployed, homeless and other unlucky individuals end up living in these parts. A lot of hybrids make their way here too from what you’ve seen in the news. 

The three of you reach the alleyway in one piece where you spot the door you’re supposed to enter through. Unfortunately, your phone call with Seungmin doesn’t last the trip. With a sigh, Chan offers your device back which you accept and stuff into the pocket of your jeans. He nods and murmurs, “You guys remember the plan?” 

“Yeah.” You hum and before you can bite your tongue, you reply, “Do you?” 

Chan’s eyes glitter within the darkness, boring into your own with some sort of emotion you couldn’t read. It stays like that for a moment, just the two of you staring at each other before he ends the moment with a stiff nod, “Yes. I do.” 

“Great. Let’s do this.” Woojin pushes past the both of you to take up the lead. You and Chan have to sprint to keep up with his quick pace, halting just when you reach the door. After making sure each of you were ready, the bear hybrid reaches forward and pushes open the obstacle. Instantly, your nostrils are hit with the scent of hard liquor and cigarette smoke. Scrunching your nose, you follow Woojin through the doorway, peering behind your shoulder to make sure Chan was on your tail. He was. 

You piece together you guys had entered an abandoned car shop, judging by the vast open space and totaled vehicles. It was pitch black all except for some lights in the center where you could already catch a glimpse of some sort of iron cage. Dozens of people surrounded the structure, sipping from red cups and inhaling from cigars. Looks like the excitement hasn’t started just yet. 

“Come to see the fight?” 

You nearly jump at the new voice and barely stop yourself from colliding into Woojin. You step beside the male and discover the source of the question. It was some middle-aged man, maybe forty, with barely any hair atop his scalp and tobacco stains all across his teeth. His eyes were beady almost like a rat’s, and a shiver crawled down your spine when he rakes them down your body. 

“Yeah. It’s our first time.” Woojin hums, nodding toward the makeshift arena. “Hasn’t started yet?” 

“Nope. Have to give them some time to get the little freaks ready beforehand.” From the corner of your eye, you see the bear visibly tense. “And welcome. Allow me to buy y’all some drinks on the house. I’m thinking tequila for the pretty lady-” 

“-And I’m thinking you can fuck off.” The sudden growl is followed by an arm around your waist. You peer up to see Chan sneering toward the man, his eyes narrowed with disgust, “Look at her like that again and I’ll throw you in the ring myself.” 

The pervert takes the message loud and clear and quite literally makes a mad dash for the closest group. You shake your head, “Chan, that really wasn’t the smartest idea.” 

He drops his limb from your body, his expression once again calm, and shakes his own head, “I wasn’t going to let him look and talk to you like you’re some piece of meat. You can’t smell his perverse intentions like I can.” 

Instead of arguing further, you choose to let the moment go and make your way in the direction of the cage. The two hybrids follow closely behind you, and if it was the right time, you would have made a joke about having your own personal bodyguards. But to be honest, you were very grateful for it. Especially for what Chan did. 

You just try not to think about the butterflies fluttering in your gut. 

“Keep an eye out for the owner. She has to be around here somewhere.” Chan reminds both you and Woojin as you station yourself on the far-end of the ring where fewer people were. You nod and set out to do just that, scanning groups for any sign of a familiar face. You’re unable to find the woman you saw in pictures who is the supposed owner of the fight center, also fighters like Hyunjin. Yet, there’s still no luck when a bell sounds and a person enters the cage. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for joining us today. We are well aware in how eager you are to get started.” The suggestive tone of the announcer's voice has your blood boiling and fists clenching at your sides. These people come here to get enjoyment out of watching hybrids beat the living shit out of each other. How sick has the world actually become? “As always, our night will consist of three rounds. The winner of the first round will go on to the next, and so on. Are you ready to have some fun?” 

A round of cheers erupts throughout the garage and echoes in your ears like a haunted siren. The announcer throws his hands up and shouts, “Amazing! Let’s meet our first pairing of the night: 

“Our newcomer is a doberman pinscher with claws and teeth like knives, weighing over two-hundred and twenty pounds! Welcome, the Destroyer!” You flinch as a burly hybrid darts around the arena to snap his teeth at you and everyone else through the metal chains. The people roar wild at his show, feet stamping and hands applauding in delight. Out of instinct, you move closer to Chan beside you who’s leaning onto the cage with one hand weaved through the chains. His eye catches yours. 

This is not going to go well. 

“And for his opponent, we have everyone’s favorite puny dalmatian hybrid weighing in just under one-hundred and thirty pounds! Everyone give it up for the Runt!” Though the volume isn’t as hefty, some still cheer as Hyunjin makes his way into the ring. Your stomach turns at how small he is compared to the Destroyer, his skinny figure nothing against the doberman’s muscles. His short, spotted ears were drawn backwards indicating his fear. Then again, you could tell how scared he was just by the look on his face. 

Behind you, you hear Chan inhale a heavy gust of air. Without thinking, you reach and take his hand into your own, hoping to calm his obvious tension. His voice is pained when he murmurs, “They cropped his ears.” 

“Guys, over there.” Woojin’s comment awakens the both of you from your reverie, and you’re quick to snatch your hand away from Chan’s. You follow where the bear is pointing, finding the woman you had been looking for earlier just across the ring. You move to head toward her when you’re stopped by Chan. 

He gives you a pointed look before shaking his head, “After the fight, remember?” 

“But Hyunjin-” 

“-It has to be after, (Y/N). We have to watch him fight.” 

He means watch him lose. 

Even so, knowing the intensity of the situation, you relent and return your gaze to the ring. The announcer was rambling about rules and other things you barely cared about. You were more focused on the trembling dalmatian hybrid and how there was no good end to any of this. You could hope all you want, Hyunjin’s not leaving here unscathed. 

“Three… Two…” With each number, the announcer steps back further and further away from the hybrids. Your anxiety grows at the clear line of charge the doberman has toward Hyunjin. One knock and he’s down. 

“One!” At the screech of a bell, the Destroyer takes off toward Hyunjin. Horrified, you watch the dalmatian hybrid barely duck away in time for the other to zoom past. He dashes to the other side of the arena while his stronger opponent gathers his bearings. Hyunjin was safe for maybe a minute before the doberman is off again. Blood lust written all across his face. 

Hyunjin isn’t as lucky this time. He manages to dodge a punch, but the other hybrid is smart and drags his other hand up to scratch at his arm. The gash immediately starts to bleed, blood spills down Hyunjin’s flesh and taints the ground red. Cradling his wounded limb, Hyunjin fails to see his opponent throw another punch and takes a hit right in the nose. 

He falls back onto the ground with a sickening thud and a sharp cry. Your heart aches at his desperate attempt to flee in trying to back away from the approaching hybrid. The doberman only grabs his ankle and yanks him toward him. He picks the dalmatian up by his throat and tosses him against the caged boundary, only to trap him there. Unable to watch, you hide your face in Woojin’s shoulder, and shudder with every crack of skin against skin and bone against bone that reaches your ears. 

You don’t look back until the announcer calls victory for the Destroyer. Tears brim at your eyelids at the sight of Hyunjin’s limp body against the cage, his face swollen and caked with blood. A couple younger boys emerge from the shadows to drag him out of the ring while the announcer announces the next opponent. 

“C’mon, now’s our chance.” You almost forgot about your previous objective until Chan grabs your wrist and starts to drag you through the crowds, Woojin close behind. You reach the woman just in time for the bell to ring and the second round to start. 

Her steel eyes gaze across the three of you with disinterest, lips pursing at the rather violent crack of bones that ensues. With a sigh, she hums, “Can I help you?” 

“How much for the dalmatian hybrid?” In your previous plan, you weren’t supposed to be so blunt, but after seeing Hyunjin in such a manner, you couldn’t help it. The hybrid has had to endure this time and time again for god knows how long. You’d be damned if he stands it any longer. 

The woman rolls her eyes, “He’s not for sale. If you want a dalmatian hybrid, just go to the fucking pet store.” 

“We don’t want any dalmatian hybrid.” Woojin backs you up, crossing his arms over his chest. “We want him.” 

“Well isn’t that too fucking bad, cause it ain’t happening. I suggest you quit wasting my time before I have my guys kick your asses out.” 

Before she can walk away, you stop her with a hand on her arm, “Wait, please. Just hear us out-” 

“-Sweetheart, I paid good money for that bastard only to find out he was a runt. He brings in easy pay, so like I said before, no deal.” Defeated, you allow the owner to escape your grip and recede into the cheering crowds. With her departure, the hopeful piece of your soul crumbles to dust. So much for the plan. 

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. Angling your head, you peer at both hybrids. Woojin’s expression was contorted into disappointment and frustration while Chan was staring at the ruckus going on inside the arena. You didn’t like the intensity of his gaze. Something about it made your skin crawl. 

The bear hybrid scoffs, “Great. What are we supposed to do now?” 

“I don’t know.” You shake your head, “We have to find another way I guess. Maybe come back-”

“-No.” Chan’s sudden voice interrupts your own. Wide-eyed, you turn to the wolf hybrid only to find his eyes still on the cage. It seemed as if the Destroyer won the second round too, although he was a lot more bloody and marred than he was with Hyunjin. Chan sighs, the sound long and heavy, and meets your gaze, “I have a plan, but you’re not going to like it.” 

“What do you mean?” Your eyes narrow, studying the way Chan shrinks beneath your stare. “Why am I not going to like it?” 

“What if we could win Hyunjin somehow? Like as a prize?” 

At first, confusion overtakes your mind at Chan’s strange words. You open your mouth to inquire further, but then your eyes transfer to the ring again. The realization hits you like a firm kick to the chest, and for a moment, you thought your heart had stopped. Feverishly, you shake your head, “Absolutely fucking not. It’s not happening.” 

“(Y/N), please. Just consider-” 

“-Consider what?” Winded and crazed, you throw your hands up and continue, “I am not throwing you in a fucking cage so you can get your ass beat. We find another way-” 

“-And what if there is no other way!?” Chan cries, stepping closer to put his hands on your shoulders. “(Y/N), this might be the only chance we have at ever getting Hyunjin back…” 

You wince as his words travel straight into the depths of your heart. Unable to meet his gaze, you look instead toward the Destroyer who’s hastily licking at a wound on his wrist. Your eyes linger over his sharp claws, bulging muscles and the fangs poking through his lips. When you speak, you will yourself to remain strong, but you can’t help the crack in your voice, “I can’t let you do this… He could kill you, Chan, you could fucking die... “ 

The hybrid cups your cheeks with both hands and forces your eyes to connect. With a weak smile, he chuckles, “I’m not dying on you anytime soon, (Y/N). That would be the worst decision on my part.” 

You can’t reply, 

“Listen to me,” He swipes his thumb over your cheekbone. His whisper is faint, loud enough for only your ears to listen in, “I know I can win this. I can get Hyunjin back. I just need you to trust me.” 

Everything inside of your head was telling you to say no, to laugh in Chan’s face and call him an idiot for ever attempting. But the softer part of yourself was telling you the opposite. Beneath his brown-eyed gaze, you felt helpless, trapped in a war between your head and heart. Memories flash through your mind like sparks of fireworks: You see Woojin’s scarred palm in your rearview mirror. You see blood pooling on the floor like an ocean of waste. You see the stupid leash around Seungmin’s neck. Most importantly, you see Chan sat defenseless in that dark alleyway. 

Before you can change your mind, you nod your head, “You better win.” 

Chan smiles, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. He hums, “I will. For Hyunjin and for you.” 

~~*~~**~~*~~

Surprisingly, Hyunjin’s owner actually agreed to your offer. If Chan wins against the Destroyer, she’ll hand the dalmatian hybrid over with no other questions. You didn’t like the spark of excitement that entered her eyes when you told her Chan was also a wolf hybrid. Or how she asked if Chan has ever been “aggressive” with you before. That didn’t sit well in your stomach. 

“You okay?” You turn your gaze away from the cage at Woojin’s concern. He tilts his head, and if he hadn’t had his beanie on, his ears would be twitching too, “You look like you’re gonna be sick.” 

“If anything goes wrong, then I probably will be.” 

Woojin shakes his head, “(Y/N)-ah, Channie is going to win. There’s no doubt about it.” 

While Woojin’s persistence somewhat eases the nausea stirring inside your stomach, it doesn’t make it falter entirely. It’s not like you didn’t have faith in him, because you certainly did, he’s strong, clever and agile. But you just can’t stand the guilt that if something bad happens, Chan’s life is on your conscience. You took him in that night so you’re responsible for anything bad that happens to him. 

That’s all this feeling was… right? 

“Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we have yet another surprise show for you all tonight.” Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you watch the announcer as he walks around the ring. You try to ignore the sight of the Destroyer, seething with brutality and hunger. “An unexpected challenger has decided to test their luck against the Destroyer. We’ll see who comes out on top tonight.” 

You debated covering your ears to avoid the loud applause, but force your hands to remain clasped into your lap. The announcer waits for the crowd to die down before continuing, “Our next opponent for the night is none other than a wolf hybrid, folks, weighing over one hundred and sixty pounds. Everyone, put your hands together for Bang Chan!” 

Your heart picks up as Chan languidly steps into the ring. He was shirtless, the planes of his muscles apparent in the stage light. The combination of his tanned skin and blonde hair made him seem like a beacon - your beacon - of hope. He surveys the crowd outside the metal cage, stopping when his eyes connect with yours. He sends you one of his soft smiles and a wink. And you can’t help the upturn of your own lips. 

You mouth for him to be careful. He nods, looks at you one last time then turns to his opponent. 

The announcer shouts, “Count with me, folks! Three… two…

“One!” The bell shrieks like a banshee, the sound cutting into your ear drums. With your heart racing, you watch Chan and the Destroyer begin to circle one another. The doberman obviously knew this round wasn’t going to be as easy as his last few. You didn’t know if that knowledge gave you hope or fear. 

All of a sudden, the doberman charges straight at Chan. You hold your breath as your companion dodges his attack and also trips him in the process. The other hybrid goes flying against the chainlink barrier face first, his body colliding with a rough clank. Your relief doesn’t last because he’s on his feet in less than three seconds. 

Chan goes for him this time around, effectively picking him up and throwing him back against the cage. He lands a right and left hook on his face before delivering a couple hits to his stomach. The Destroyer groans in pain, clutching his torso. The wolf backs off and allows his opponent to catch his breath. He takes the time to look in your direction and send you another smile. 

You almost do the same until movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. You gasp and scream, “Chan, behind you!” 

It’s too late, the Destroyer takes the wolf by surprise and collides into his back. Chan attempts to regain control, but the doberman had his arms pinned to his sides, his knee driving blow after blow into his waist. Each strike sends an ache to your own chest. You weren’t the only one though, Woojin was anxiously chewing at his own lips too. 

Chan manages to free himself and shove his opponent away. His stance was a lot shaky, but he deals a right hook with no trouble at all. The doberman stumbles, giving Chan just the right moment to charge himself. 

Forcefully, Chan knocks both the other hybrid and himself to the ground. The two tustle for power over one another, rolling across the floor of the ring. To your disappointment (and sanity), the Destroyer gains the upper-hand, straddles the wolf and delivers one strike to the face after another. Similar to his final takedown of Hyunjin. 

Screaming rings in your ears, and it took you a moment to realize it was your own. You were screaming for Chan - for your hybrid. You had never been so panicked in your life, the night at the circus never compared to this. Chan. His name was all that left your lips: 

“Chan!” 

Your calls somehow give Chan the strength he needs to turn the tables and flip the other hybrid so he was beneath him instead. He knocks out the doberman with not one, or two, but many, many punches. The fast pace in which his arm moved back and forth made you dizzy. You felt like you could faint, but it probably wasn’t for that reason. 

The next few moments move by in a blur. The announcer pronounces Chan the winner of the night and the owner returns with an unsteady Hyunjin leaning on her shoulders. The younger hybrid quite literally launches himself into Woojin’s arms, sobs and cries and thank yous falling from his lips. You barely have time to relish the heartfelt reunion before Chan returns, frantic and wide-eyed. 

“We have to go now.” 

“What do you mean? Hyunjin-”

“The cops are here, (Y/N)!” Your excuse falls short on your tongue at Chan’s response. Your relief from before is stripped away like an adult takes candy from a child, and you almost forgot to breathe. “We have to go. Right now.” 

Chan, with a firm grip on your wrist, leads you through the bustling and panicking crowds and into darkness. Woojin is not far behind with Hyunjin on his back. His pace grows quicker at the booming voices that echo through the garage, indicating that anyone who attempts to escape will be shot. Your heart beat picks up. 

“Shit,” Chan hisses when the four of you reach the back wall of the building. You’d expect they have some sort of backdoor in places like these, but apparently not. Instead there was a single, broken window a couple feet above your heads. “Shit. We’re so fucked.” 

“Not necessarily. Just climb up. Let me go first.” Woojin offers. Chan nods, waits for Woojin to transfer Hyunjin onto your shoulders and lifts his brother up to the escape. Woojin fits through easily, and after a few seconds calls for Chan to send Hyunjin. 

You hand the dalmatian over. Through the corner of your eye, you notice the beam of flashlights flitting throughout the garage and whisper, “We need to hurry up. They’re starting to search the place.” 

Chan doesn’t reply, but heaves Hyunjin up a lot faster than he did with Woojin. He falters though, obviously hurt from his fight earlier. You rush to help him and manage to get the younger hybrid out the window. Even so, the lights are a lot closer. You won’t have enough time for the both of you to fit through. Just one. 

“Here. You go.” 

Chan shakes his head, “Absolutely not. You first.” 

“There’s no time for arguing. I’ll be right behind you.” The lie is bitter when it leaves your lips, but you know you have no other choice. Chan, knowing your time crisis, takes the bait and allows you to help him up to the window. Once you’re sure he’s able to get out of his own from there, you rip your hands away and murmur, “I’m sorry.” 

If Chan called for you, you didn’t know because you were already taking off further into the darkness. You follow the back wall as much as you can, finding yourself among various totaled car and truck. Nonetheless, you could still see the lights slowly closing in. It was only a matter of time before the police find you and you’d be fucked. 

But at least the boys are safe. 

Just one you were about to give up hope, an arm suddenly yanks at your leg and tugs you beneath one of the cars. You try to scream, but a palm stops any noise from leaving your lips. The stranger hums a warning just as dozens of feet passed by where you’re hidden. You hold your breath, convinced they’d be able to hear the pounding of your heart and you’d be caught anyway. But somehow, there is a god. 

The police fall away and all that’s left is you and your unknown savior. Only when they’re sure your captors wouldn’t return does the stranger remove their hand. You silently cough and scoot away from the figure, harshly whispering, “Who the hell are you? Why did you-?” 

“-We’ll talk later. Right now, we have to get out of here.” 

You can tell its a male from his deep voice. Just as he’s about to slide from your hiding spot, you grab his arm and yank him back, “No. Tell me who you are first.” 

The stranger sighs and gives you a pointed look through the darkness, “I think you’ve been looking for me actually: 

“The name’s Minho. Lee Minho.”

[homestuckcontroversyin2020]

My Opinions on The Epilogues

So I expect that this isn’t going to go over too well, whether it be because I get absolutely zero attention on this post, or for the fact that I’m literally typing up what is probably a hate post that’ll spark up some, “Oh fuck you.” comments. Either way, I don’t really care about the possible hate to be garnered or anything. I’m here to state my opinion on this, and opinions can’t kill anyone when you’re as weak at arguing as I myself am. Now, this isn’t a fucking logical article, I’m not taking time with comprehensive research and making sure I fact check every little detail because that would involve reading Homestuck for and eighth time and re-reading the Epilogues so I have the biggest refresher in the world. I’m not doing that, so take my sub-par rambles.

Preface over, let’s get into the meat.

My original thought when I heard that the Epilogues came out was initially an eye roll big enough to be like when Hulk smashed Loki in the ground. An arch of, “What the fuck, Hussie.” In other words? I didn’t want to read them. I spent the first few days in agony, complaining about how Homestuck was probably just becoming a money grab, and hearing from other people about the content that  came out.

It.. wasn’t as bad as I expected when I jumped into it. People made a bigger deal about them than I thought was even insanely possible. Let me get this out of the way. I don’t hate the Epilogues. Do I think they were poorly done? Yes. Do I think that the writing was subpar? Absolutely. Do I think that fourteen year olds in their bedroom typing away at shitty fanfiction or roleplaying smut on MxRP/MSPARP have a better grasp on the characterization of each individual character than the people who took over and wrote the Epilogues? 10000%. Still, I thought they were a clever addition to alternate timelines. I had heard from a source they were meant to be a satirical take on fanfiction, and was a mocking poke at the Homestuck community... until Beyond Canon came out.

So here we are now with an 18 year old who’s spent their time on this planet obsessing over Homestuck since before they could read cuss words without feeling embarrassed telling you about how they’re pissed off with some small things that are of no value.

I’m an Alpha Kid Stan(TM) so everything that happened to my sweet babies has made me want to blow my brains out over the walls. Let’s go down the line.

Jane, sweetheart? Who hurt you? Now, I’ll be honest, I rushed through the Epilogues in my, ‘fuck I don’t want to read this but I feel like I need to in order to satiate my burning curiosity.’ mode. Jane’s whole... situation seems really fucked up to me. The color of her text in the EPs is another thing that pissed me off beyond belief, and I’m not sure why. The consistency between comic and canon was draining on my nerves. Jane, in Homestuck, is a whiny teen, but in no way do I look at her and see racist Hitler. Also, what the fuck was up with the clown thing? Why did she have an obsession with fucking Jake? Sure, she was into him before, but wasn’t part of her character arch getting over the buck toothed bangaroo? I thought so. I also thought that Jane was, you know, just a normal girl living her best life. She sure complained, but who doesn’t?? The Jane we’re given in the Epilogues seems to lack the internal dilemmas that the dear, sweet Crocker we’ve grown fond of does. There’s barely a hit of self hate, she doesn’t blow up, and sure we could possibly count this to her being older, but, what? She didn’t seem to be pissed off about the entire existence of trolls in Homestuck. Sure, her time with them was minimal and she didn’t really get all the shit through, but she fought side by side with Kanaya, even. I just don’t see it at all.

Jake. Oh boy. This is a big one. In either case, Jake’s whole thing really bothers me. He doesn’t seem like Jake. He seems like a watered down version of himself that doesn’t even make fucking sense? He’s an aloof dork, but he’s not horrendously stupid, there’s no reason to make him an alcoholic, and why the fuck is he an attention seeking slut? Yes, yes. We could blame this all on Dirk but really, what were the authors thinking? They had complete control over what happens in this and they turn Jake into something he’s not. He had other drives and passions than living out his life as the sexy action movie woman we all need in our lives. Jake’s smart to his own degree, stubborn, and kind of a flirt! He’s not insanely oblivious, either. For instance, I recall a specific moment where he insinuates that Jane was having a wet dream about him in Homestuck. I’m not going to find the quote, but I know it’s there. Jake spent time working on the robot rabbit for John with Jade and outright refused help from some outside sources. Jake is smart! He’s got an extensive vocabulary! He’s just a nerd, and he’s more than an uwu gay boy for Mr. Triangles.

Roxy, oh no. This is where I expect to get the most heat. Roxy is a beloved character. The light of my life and the best of the kids, in my opinion. (I’m an avid Dirk Stan, but Roxy has won my heart truly and thoroughly.) I don’t like the whole trans/non-binary thing. Not because I’m transphobic or anything, because I’m absolutely not. It’s because it feels like it just doesn’t fit with her as a character?? Roxy grew up in isolation in a place without humans, you really think she’s going to have an outright conceptualized view on gender roles and norms? Basic fucking psychology would tell you otherwise. This is something that her brain would have trained her to do based on a societal view. I may not have paid a huge ass amount of attention in psychology, but gender is a thing that’s completely up in the air and taught to us. Roxy didn’t have that. You could argue and say that her house has something of the sort that’d lead her to feel that way, or perhaps she’s learned this all off the internet, but her clothes scream femme and she had to make them herself, is all I’m saying. Again, whatever, go off, make Roxy trans. It’s not a huge deal, but that isn’t the only problem I have. Roxy as a character seems to have just lost her spark. There’s little outright love and enjoyment and adoration for her friends that there is in Homestuck. She’s not your hype go get them loving girl. Again, maybe you could blame this on the fact that they’re all older, but getting older isn’t going to drastically impede your previous personality and make you an entirely different person. They essentially turned Roxy into a watered down version of Dave, but trans. It’s like they couldn’t make Dave trans so they just made a new Dave. It’s annoying to me, and that’s my biggest problem. I love Roxy. I don’t care for Epilogue Roxy. If they had done it right, if they had used specific things from Homestuck, if Homestuck itself keyed in on this or ANYTHING, fine. But Roxy was old enough to question her identity, most people do around 16, and she could have had the opportunity to start representing this already. I mean, who was stopping her? Then the baby stuff. Huh? What? Why? Doesn’t make sense, pass. Her bffsy, brother, and person that cared about her most off and yeets himself from the top of the nearest belltower and all she can think about is copulating with John??? Alright, fam.

Onto Dirk. Y’know what? I don’t have many huge problems with Dirk. I found his personality in Meat really funny, I found the death in Candy absolutely soul crushing. Dirk is a good character. I don’t think they did his personality well, but I don’t think they did any of the characters well. Maybe John. Maybe. Dirk really just sounded like a child who wasn’t getting what he wanted, and it was amusing to say the least. He sounded horrible from the way people talked about him before I read it, but I really just found his overzealous ego entertaining. I found the fact that they made him still totally desperate for Jake kind of annoying though. Dirk broke of their relationship. Dirk was the one who took a moment to realize it wasn’t healthy for either of them, and getting what you want isn’t good. Taking over the narrative and making your ex nearly jizz himself in public is hilarious and all, but also, what??

Alright. Alphas. Let’s move onto Betas.

I skipped a lot of it, not going to lie. Rather than breaking it down for each character like I did with the Alphas, I’m just going to ramble and see where the wind takes. me.

I don’t ship Davekat. I don’t see it working in a romantic aspect. I see them being bros, and it felt really forced in both sides of the story. The homoerotic tension could maybe be smelled for a mile away, but lets not forget something very important. Dave has shown interest in women. Dave was interested in Terezi, he called Roxy and Jane hot, he totally fucking jizzed his jeans for Jade. The fact that so many characters in the Epilogues were exclaiming that Dave was gay, and Dave himself leaning towards the sentiment, didn’t seem to really match up. Dave’s not just pretending to like chicks either, he’s definitely interested in them to the point of being genuinely flustered and embarrassed (I.E The Hot Mom conversation.) So, I don’t really enjoy that. I think the economy shit is cute, his alternate counterpart seemed to have a good hand for business according to the spiel that was made about him, I liked it.

Rose? Didn’t pay a lot of attention to her. The drug abuse shit really pissed me off. Rose in general really pissed me off in the Epilogues. 

John is a can of worms. His characterization was done well, but I guess I just don’t see the point in the two timeline deals. Also, why did he have sex with Terezi? Why was he so much of a baby when the rest of the people around him apparently seemed to mature? Who knows. I sure as hell don’t.

And... then there’s Jade. Poor, sweet Jade. She’s been done dirty almost as much as Jake has, if not worse. She has a dick for one. Yikes. She’s extremely sexually driven, which isn’t something I can see for canon Jade who just wants to hang out and vibe. She’s also so fucking insistent with the “uwu lets date Dave and Karkat” shit that it drives me up a fucking wall. Jade, you should know better! You dated an alternate version of Dave! You dated the OG motherfucker fresh timeline bitch who lost everyone, and sure he was depressed, but I think if I remember correctly you know about all of this???? Hmmmmm!!!! Big questions. It almost leads one to believe she’d know better than to enter into a relationship like this with Dave since it could be emotionally unfulfilling. :))))

Anyways, this entire thing is a can of fucking worms and I don’t suspect I’m going to use this account often aside from shitposting, so have this one uneducated article and if you made it through it and agree, disagree, or what have you, don’t be an ass in the replies? I get it, I’m opinionated and should probably shut my mouth, but it’s the internet and I don’t really care at this point.